Chapter Text
Lang Qianqiu thought that his teacher was having a bad day.
Admittedly, he wasn’t quite sure. His Guoshi, Fangxin, the State Preceptor of Yong’an, was a cold and distant man. Lang Qianqiu never really knew what he was thinking about behind that (frankly creepy) mask he always wore. Then again, he never really knew what anyone else was thinking about, either, so…
And anyways, hadn’t the day been going so well? He’d only gotten scolded by Guoshi once! Otherwise, he’d been as pure and obedient as an angel!
(He’d made his servants swear to not tell Guoshi about that incident. He didn’t want to listen to another lecture about the importance of etiquette. His legs had been numb for days after that.)
And the parade had been spectacular! He’d only ever seen it from afar, and up close, it had been even more magnificent. The festival, the crowd, the show… it had all been so exhilarating, so exciting! It reminded him that this was what he wanted to achieve, to preserve. The smiles and joy of his people.
Though, honestly, getting permission to go all at had been a journey in and of itself. He’d had to beg his parents for months. Months! And even then, they’d been hesitant. Really, he’d only been almost assassinated when outside once. Only once! And now they never wanted him to leave the palace ever again! It was ridiculous. It wasn’t like it had gone that badly, he’d met Guoshi, after all. So, really, everything had gone great.
Ultimately, they relented and permitted him to go to see the parade at Lang-er bay, on the condition that Guoshi would be there to supervise him at all times (emphasis on at all times)
Finally! He nearly shouted in excitement. He finally got to leave the palace. And all he had to do was ask Guoshi!
… Which he thought was going to be easy. His teacher had swiftly disabused him of such a notion.
He shivered, remembering all the laps, the endless reading, all the calligraphy practice he had had to do (his hands still hurt) until Guoshi had agreed to escort him. After seeing so many seemingly impossible to complete terms and conditions listed out, he’d almost thought that Guoshi didn’t actually want to accompany him at all and set him those outrageous tasks on purpose!
It was almost like Guoshi was scared of going to Lang-er bay.
Hahaha! What a funny thought, Guoshi wasn’t scared of anything!
Indeed, Lang Qianqiu thought, letting out a wistful sigh. He discretely turned his head to peek at the white-clad man walking elegantly behind him, the very picture of an aloof cultivator, distanced from all worldly desires. Fangxin, revered Guoshi of Yong’an, is scared of nothing.
His teacher had greeted him this morning not in his usual black clothing and silver mask but in a simple white cultivator’s robe, with a silk bandage wrapped around the lower half of his face (and neck? Now that he thought about it, Guoshi has always favored high collars…) and a straw hat hiding his eyes. Oddly, his signature black blade was nowhere in sight.
…He’d been thankful for that. Though he loved swords, that particular one had always… unnerved him.
As Lang Qianqiu had wanted to experience the festival from a “commoner”’s point of view, and for his protection, they had decided to disguise themselves. It was a very novel and eye-opening experience. Dressed in lighter colours and without a mask concealing his face, Guoshi seemed… warmer. Hm. “Warm” was certainly not a word many would associate with the famously cool and distant Yong’an State Preceptor. Not even he, Fangxin’s disciple, would say that his teacher was warm.
Thinking himself unnoticed, he started to stare at Fangxin more closely. Though Guoshi normally kept his true emotions close to heart, today he’d been… unsettled, for lack of a better word. Weirdly nervous, to the point where even Lang Qianqiu had noticed.
He wondered what that was about.
“Your Highness, it is improper to skip down the hallways,” A flat, carefully emotionless voice interrupted his thoughts. (Was it just him or did Guoshi seem even colder than normal…? That never meant anything good…)
The moment they’d arrived back at the Palace, his teacher had immediately put his enchanted mask back on, the warmth he’d glimpsed on the man long gone and the icy exterior back in its place. “And if His Highness desires something, he need only ask. Staring at me shall provide you no answers,” Fangxin continued, evenly.
Ack! He’d been caught! “No, no, Guoshi, it’s nothing! Nothing at all!” He even shook his head vehemently to convey his sincerity.
Fangxin narrowed his eyes. “Oh? Then please look back ahead. It would be a shame if Your Royal Highness were to trip.”
…Was that a threat? No, no, he was overthinking it. Even if Guoshi were in a bad mood, he wouldn’t go as far as to trip him.
…Would he?
Successfully cowed into obedience, Lang Qianqiu, like a good little student, turned his head back into proper position with a hasty nod.
For the next few minutes, they walked on together in silence, Lang Qianqiu’s mind already turning to more interesting topics. Ah, he wondered if he could convince one of the guards to bring him more of that tanghulu. Though Guoshi would probably lecture him when he, inevitably, found out, the tanghulu had been so good! it might just be worth getting scolded for an incense time or two…
So wrapped up in thoughts of sugar and sweets was he, that he almost missed the moment it happened.
One minute, the quiet peace of the Yong’an Palace pervaded the air, and in the next—
—A terrified, desperate scream filled with horror and fear and helplessness—flooded the hallways, echoing off the high ceiling and walls, alongside the sound of a mirror being shattered.
When Lang Qianqiu had finally shaken off the shock (and fear, for how could a human possibly make such a wretched and terrifying sound?) He found his normally collected and controlled Guoshi crumpled on the ground, his sword outstretched and pointing towards the remains of what was once a mirror. A few of the broken shards had cut his sword hand and drawn blood, but Fangxin appeared not to notice. In the reflection of the black jade, Lang Qianqiu saw a familiar white-clad and masked man, trembling, eyes wide with horror. At what, Lang Qianqiu did not know.
The next few minutes passed in a blur. Everything had felt more like a distant dream than reality. It had taken him more than a few tries to recall his teacher back to coherency, and by then some of the braver servants had come to assess the situation. Words of tentative concern and offers of medicare care were given, but the State Preceptor had appeared absentminded and gave them no attention, his blood still dripping down from his arm, to his sword, and onto the ground.
In the end though, Fangxin seemed to collect himself and coolly brushed them all off, simply stating that was tired, and required rest, before striding off (He had no earthly idea how someone could walk so fast, and still be so dignified while doing it too!) to his residence, while those left behind looked on in bafflement, some with concern, and many with a hint of fear.
Drops of vibrant red still stained the floor, alongside a thousand broken shards.
Late into the night, within his own chambers, Lang Qianqiu paced around relentlessly. The sight of his teacher, of his idol, so shaken and disturbed still haunted him, denying him sleep. Frustrated, he carded a hand through his unruly hair.
So he really hadn’t been imagining Guoshi’s bad mood, though it had been much worse than he had thought. The usually calm and collected man he was so familiar with was nowhere to be seen, only the husk of a man gazing at his greatest nightmare remained. Lang Qianqiu would be lying to himself if he said that he wasn’t a little shaken by such a display. Even Fangxin, the greatest, most powerful man he knew, could cower in such absolute terror. What could possibly plague such a mighty and brave soul? …He almost didn’t wish to know.
Still, his teacher had seemed to collect himself, reason returning to his frenzied gaze, so he couldn’t have been that distressed. (He tried not to remember the scream. If only it would stop echoing his ears…) He hoped that Guoshi was alright. He should probably go check up on him, but he was… well. Ah. Well, didn’t people need time to themselves after a traumatic event or something? He read that in a book somewhere. Though the same book had also said that an unsettled individual needed the support of loved ones. Which was completely contradictory. This was why he hated reading. Or just books in general. They made no sense! Still, maybe he should give his teacher a little space and time. Just a bit. Y’know. Just to cool off. And not for any other reason. And definitely not because he was scared or anything. Really, pffft. Scared, of the one who taught him to wield a blade, of the person who saved his life? Why would he be scared!?! Besides, he was Lang Qianqiu, crown prince of Yong’an, heir to the throne of Yong’an, disciple of the respected and untouchable Guoshi Fangxin, who could make babies cry with a glance, who could make a full-grown man wish they were dead with his gaze, who could cleave a human in two with one swing of his blade, who could break a metal sword with his bare hands—
—Ok, alright! He might be a little. (Just a little, mind you!!) Bit. Afraid. Of his Guoshi.
BUT!!! in his defense, so was everyone else. So… it was… fine…?
Ugrrrrh…
The beloved Crown Prince of Yong’an stuffed his head into the blankets and let out a muffled scream.
After venting his emotions to his heart’s content, Lang Qianqiu let out a weary sigh, and cupped his face in hands in a very un-princely way that Guoshi would’ve had his head for. But what Guoshi didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
His fear of his teacher aside, he still cared about and admired his Guoshi greatly, more than anyone in the world. Fangxin was who he wanted to be, strong and righteous, unafraid to stand up for what he believed was right. To be someone like that… took a lot of strength, he knew, even if he didn’t truly understand (or so Guoshi had said). People would bend and break in the face of reality. And to still be able to stand tall, to be true to yourself and your ideals even when the world turned against you… was beautiful beyond comparison. So he really did hope that Guoshi was safe and sound of mind. He really wanted to make sure that his teacher was okay.
As for how to do so, on the other hand…
…
……
………
…Lang Qianqiu has never claimed that intellect was one of his virtues.
He contemplated the consequences of just screaming his heart out into the world. Then he thought of the last time he’d been punished for excessive loudness and un-royal-like behavior.
…Perhaps later, when his hand had recovered.
Absently, he rubbed his palms together. They still hurt from all the calligraphy practice (read: torture) he had been assigned before the little trip to Lang’er Bay. Maybe he should put on some of the ointment An Le had gifted him the other day…
The idea struck him like lighting, his head snapping up at the revelation.
That was it! Ahahaha, it had all been so simple all along!
A gift!
He was going to get Guoshi a gift!
What better way to show gratitude and appreciation for someone than giving them a gift? Presents would cheer anyone up! He would know. It had always worked on Lang Qianqiu, after all.
And as for the content of the gift…
Though the eminent Fangxin was known for his heart of ice, rejecting gifts from even the loveliest of ladies, he, Fangxin’s beloved disciple, knew that it wasn’t so. After all, there had been one occasion where he had seen his teacher display overwhelming, unconcealable joy. It had left a great impression on him, seeing his normally detached Guoshi so happy. He remembered it well.
For the first time since he saw Fangxin shatter the mirror, Lang Qianqiu’s eyes sparkled, and a brilliant grin lit up his face, brighter than the sun itself.
In a far off residence, a certain Guoshi shivered.