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It started in the tea shack, rumors of a bride-stealing ghost floating along the wind and the scent of steamed buns rising into the Heavens. Removing himself from the array with Ling Wen, Xie Lian scratches his nose to hide a smile and wonders if Mu Qing and Feng Xin knew how bad their disguises were.
He loved them both dearly, of course, for all they probably hated him. However…
Well, there really was no hiding the way warm brown eyes rolled like they did eight hundred years ago, or the sharp lit of a voice that tried not to shout, or the almost vain way long fingers carded through silky hair, or or or-
Xie Lian shook his head with a fond smile, watching Mu Qing and Feng Xin Fu Yao and Nan Feng bicker with increasingly sharp jabs.
“Well, we wouldn't be in this mess,” Nan Feng hisses, balling his hands into fists on the tabletop, “if your General didn't take such issues with having a bell thrown at him.”
Fu Yao scoffs, tossing his hair over his shoulder. He says, “And how does that have anything to do with a ghost stealing away brides? It would do you Nan Yang disciples good to use your brains once in a while.”
“How about you say that to my face, prick!”
“I just did, stupid!”
“Now, now,” Xie Lian says, keeping his voice level but not soft. While normally soft equals gentle, he can still vividly hear Mu Qing snapping at him for speaking at him like he's being pitied -like he is some cornered animal. He shakes those thoughts off and rises to his feet to mirror the other two, waving his hands, “Let's just calm down.”
Simultaneously, Nan Feng and Fu Yao whipped around. Their glares were practically identical, which Xie Lian found funny considering he could hardly recall a moment Feng Xin and Mu Qing ever looked so alike. And then, with a frown and an eye roll, they are two separate people again.
“Whatever,” Fu Yao scoffs, snapping his head to the side and sending his hair flying again. It hits Nan Feng in the face, yet he merely frowns further and crosses his arms.
“We don't need to be calm; we need a plan, Highness,” he retorts with all the fiery rage Xie Lian hasn't heard in centuries. He gives a bittersweet smile and nods.
“Ah, yes, well…” Xie Lian begins to say, only to be promptly interrupted by screams outside the tea house. All three of them are on their feet and out the door in a breath's time.
Xie Lian stumbles his way toward the crowd, attempting to get a view of the chaos. Cursing his height, he finds himself unable to see past the other villagers’ shoulders. Xie Lian finds himself instinctively turning to Nan Feng, words his mouth knows well ready to spill past his lips and ask for a boost. He grimaces before he does, however, and looks away.
We're no longer close, He reminds himself, running a finger along Ruoye. Even if they don't hate me, which they have rightful reason to, it seems silly to ask for a lift after so many years…
Xie Lian is mercifully jerked out of those thoughts by Nan Feng pushing his way through the crowd. Using his elbows and broad shoulders, he makes a clear path toward the center of the settlement. A few steps behind him, looking vaguely disgusted, Fu Yao follows.
Once again, for just a moment, the disguises drop, and Xie Lian watches Feng Xin body his way through the streets of Xianle, snapping at those who linger with a furrowed brow. Mu Qing follows beside Xie Lian at a steady space, snipping at Feng Xin to watch where he's going. Feng Xin whirls around to retort, only to subsequently trip on an uneven stone. Mu Qing barks a laugh, nearly dropping his basket of cherries.
The moment is gone in a blink, but Xie Lian still copies his past actions. He raises a sleeve to cover his smile, though his eyes crinkle with mirth anyway. Xie Lian weaves through the path cut for him, mumbling apologies for his companions, and comes out on the other side of the crowd to see a bunch of men surround a young woman.
Before he can even think about it, his poorly disguised allies a step behind, Xie Lian is on the move.
Xie Lian follows after Nan Feng and Fu Yao as they lead their way up the large hill with apparent ease. Nan Feng trips Fu Yao here, and Fu Yao tugs Nan Feng's hair out of his bun there, but otherwise it is a peaceful trip. Xie Lian hums a tune as they all walk and does not stop despite the twin looks of dissaporoval.
Eventually they find themselves at the threashold of a temple. Though in the dark of the night it is shabby looking from the years past, it still somehow manages to look regal and imposing. They enter without too much fanfare.
Xie Lian glances around the inside as the other two make haste toward the towering statue. It's dark. And cold. And honestly kinda smells.
…Xie Lian wonders how often Feng Xin washed away the sweat that comes with pulling back the string of such a large bow. Almost aligning with his thoughts, Fu Yao makes a similar remark. The sound of someone getting kicked is swift to follow.
He shakes his head and makes to move toward the statue as well in a vain attempt to keep the others from anymore violence. Xie Lian stares up at the statue -guilded and fine as much as the rest of the temple- and frowns. Stone just doesn't capture Feng Xin's eyes right…
Xie Lian looks down to the alter, swiping away a light layer of dust. He says, “For a Nan Yang temple, it is awfully quiet for some reason…”
“Well, yeah-” Nan Feng starts to say, indignant. He is quickly cut off.
“Ha,” Fu Yao snorts breathily. Xie Lian spares him a glance, watching how his face shifts between disgust, amusement, and fondness. “General Dick.”
Nan Feng gives such an affronted gasp at that that he begins to choke. Xie Lian turns back to the statue and lets them figure it out themselves.
Xie Lian approaches the leftover offerings next with a curious eye. Nan Feng snaps, “General Mop.”
He frowns down at the food, debating heavily. He didn't eat at the tea house…
Fu Yao shoots back, “General Deserter.”
Maybe one bite wouldn't hurt…
“General Rice Bag!”
“General Brute!”
“General Pretty Boy!”
Xie Lian takes a steamed bun. Almost immediately, Fu Yao and Nan Feng whip around and shout loud enough to make him fumble the bun, “Don't eat that!”
…Xie Lian puts down the bun. Nan Feng and Fu Yao immediately turn back to each other to begin bickering again, but a sigh from Xie Lian halts them.
“Apologies if I am misremembering, but you two were brought here to help me, yes?” He asks with an innocent blink, tilting his head to the side and letting his hair cascade down his shoulder.
“Yes, Highness,” they both answer grouchily.
Xie Lian tilts his head the other way. “Then who is in charge?”
“...You, Highness.”
With a clap, Xie Lian straightens back up, “Wonderful! I'm glad we've cleared that up!” Nan Feng tilts his head up toward the statue like he's asking himself for strength. Fu Yao drops moodily to the ground. Xie Lian smiles. “In that case, may I have some mana?”
Nan Feng raises an eyebrow. Xie Lian wonders how many of the years Feng Xin spent around Mu Qing to have managed to replicate such pure disgusted judgment into one action. “Use your own,” Nan Feng scoffs.
“I… don't have enough,” Xie Lian easily lies.
The judgment does not fade in the slightest. If anything, it grows tremendously. Even so, Nan Feng holds out a hand to tap against Xie Lian's, transferring the power he needs with a spark of gold. Xie Lian reaches into the array-
And leaves it as the sparks of dawn begin to peak through the temple's windows. He looks around, finding Nan Feng and Fu Yao sprawled out in various positions, snacking on the fruit that had been offered alongside the steamed buns. Xie Lian sighs, drawing their attention.
“I really wanted that steamed bun,” he mutters.
Fu Yao, already on his feet, crosses his arms and leans forward. He asks, “That took you a while. Did you even learn anything useful?”
“Not particularly,” Xie Lian confesses. “We know it is a wrath, at least.”
Nan Feng snorts. “Lovely. Do we have any semblance of a plan yet, or any ideas at all?”
“We could use bait. Not all of the brides get snatched, but it's a better option than our current lack of one,” Fu Yao offers with a shrug.
Xie Lian shakes his head, kneeling on the ground. The other two drop back down as well as he says, “I'd prefer we not sacrifice anyone. Perhaps we could use a doll?”
Nan Feng obviously barely refrains from snorting a second time. “It's a wrath. It'll know if it's a doll.”
“We cannot sacrifice some poor woman for this.”
“Not a woman,” Fu Yao agrees mildly. Xie Lian flickers his eyes over, hopeful for the breif second before he catches Fu Yao's expression. “A man with the right figure, however…”
“Ah…” Nan Feng grins, eyes just as sharp as Fu Yao's. Xie Lian is regretting opening his mouth at all.
“N-now hold on,” Xie Lian stutters, hands flapping wildly. “Shouldn't one of you two be the decoy? I mean, really-”
“Nah,” Nan Feng waves him off, bounding to his feet and bouncing away into the dark. Over his shoulder, he yells, “You have the waist for it.”
Fu Yao nods sagely, suddenly invading Xie Lian's personal space. “And the legs. Your arms are a bit too toned to be passible, but the wedding robes should hide that well enough.”
Nan Feng prances back into the light of the windows with an armful of red before Xie Lian can even begin to form a scentence. Fu Yao drags Xie Lian to his feet anyway and promptly starts to pull at his robes.
“Wa-wait a moment, please!”
“No time, Highness. Wedding prep takes forever, you know.”
Xie Lian grimaces at that, though he does keep quiet for a long enough moment to allow Fu Yao to strip him of his outer robes completely. He and Nan Feng don't falter, reminding Xie Lian of all the times they helped him dress. Perhaps it is because of that that he is so surprised by Nan Feng taking over the placing of the sleeves and belts.
“I'd have thought Fu Yao would want to be in charge of that,” he says with a thoughtful hum. Nan Feng doesn't spare him a glance as he straightens the bottom of the robes. Fu Yao, on the other hand, rolls his eyes.
“Oh, because I'm a Xuan Zhen desciple, right?” He snaps. “The Sweeping General, who's only real purpose is sewing and feeding strays.”
Nan Feng straightens and spins Xie Lian around, gathering long locks of hair in calloused hands. “Isn't that what he deserves? The Crown Prince brought him to Heaven and he repayed that debt by leaving him to rot.”
Xie Lian very carefully does not flinch. Any twitch he does make can be blamed on the hair pulling, thankfully.
“And General Nan Yang is any better? All he knows is to follow orders. He left behind his prince with barely a second thought.”
“You-”
“Please,” Xie Lian says, stepping away. “I am the Crown Prince you speak of, and I will not be a part of your petty fued. Am I understood?”
The eye rolls he recieves are the best he's going to get, he knows very well. Xie Lian sighs.
He claps his hands before him and tries for a blinding grin. He turns to Fu Yao first, “Mu Qing has an attitude problem, to out it lightly. He doesn't care for other people, he'd kill anyone with no question, and getting him to play nice is worse than fighting a Calamity.” Then Xie Lian turns to Nan Feng, “Feng Xin was trained to be all brawn and no brain, and he certainly acts like it. He attracts women like a flame attracts moths, I've seen him walk into several walls, and he slurps his soup.” He shakes his head. “Really, they are both messes. Neither is better than the other, understood?”
Fu Yao looked like an angry street cat ready to swipe, and Xie Lian took a step back. Nan Feng sneered simultaneously, showing off sharp canines like an untrained dog. Luckily for Xie Lian, the doors of the temple fly open before either could follow through on their actions.
In the doorway, daylight framing her like a halo, was the girl who had been harassed in the town. Her face was set in determination, a bundle carefully held in her arms. Xie Lian felt a part of him ease in relief.
The ride up the mountain is bumpy. Xie Lian keeps his hands pressed against the seat to steady himself, grateful when Ruoye wraps around his wrist and steadies him further. He whispers thanks then spares a look out the window.
Nan Feng -sadly without any bridal gear- stares straight ahead. His face twitches occasionally, looking like he's both trying not to crack into laughter and three seconds from murdering the closest thing that breathes.
Xie Lian pulls away and glances out the other window to see Fu Yao. Like his counterpart, he is not donned in red and his face is faintly twitching, though he manages to keep steadier than Nan Feng. A communications array, perhaps? It would be odd, considering they usually choose to yell at each other no matter how far away they stood, but there was a chance they had managed to mature.
Xie Lian huffs a laugh at the thought. Almost as if he can hear Xie Lian and wants to put a stop to that train of thought, Fu Yao calls out, “You dead yet, Highness?”
“No,” Xie Lian heaves a sigh with a shake of his head. “I wonder if the ghost would prefer a full party?”
“Not happening,” Nan Feng snaps. Xie Lian sighs- they'd both look so good in some makeup, too.
A howl shatters the mood like glass. Xie Lian straightens, Ruoye tightening around his wrist, and hears the draw of swords. Another howl follows, and then another and another until the entire forest echoes with them.
“Shit!” Nan Feng snaps. Something squelches a moment later, and Xie Lian can practically see Nan Feng kicking at whatever thing he had just killed to get his sword out.
“What is it?” Xie Lian calls out, moving toward the door. Ruoye trembles, making him frown.
“Stay in there, Your Highness!” Fu Yao shouts. Yet another howl gets cut off with a splatter of blood against hard ground. “Bait has to act like bait, remember!”
“It's no use if you two die,” Xie Lian hisses under his breath. He pauses then, staring down at Ruoye as an answer trickles in. He holds his wrist out and sharply whispers, “Protect them!”
Ruoye obediently darts out the window and strangled gargles join in the sound of fleshy squelches. Shouts and howls continue to echo around, a pair of eyes feel like they're boring into Xie Lian, and now he's without a spiritual weapon.
He closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. Fu Yao and Nan Feng aren't panicking, which means everything is fine. Sure, Mu Qing never did have a strong reaction to death, and Feng Xin could move past it almost as quickly, so there probably wouldn't be much of a notice, but-
“There are too many! We're going to have to lure them away!” Nan Feng chooses then to shout. “Can you handle a wrath?”
“If you get any civilians out of the way, yes,” Xie Lian yells back. He hears a noise of confirmation, and then the pattering of footsteps falling away. He waits a few breaths before he summons Ruoye back. “None of us really left the battlefield, hm?”
Ruoye trembles in answer and Xie Lian brings it close. The few remaining howls abruptly cut off, just as the feeling of the eyes grow intense. His breath catches in his throat and he turns back toward the window where a shadow hovers.
Eerily, with a sharp click, the door is opened. Xie Lian gapes at the red robed figure before him who offers a long pale hand. The act of weighing his options is admittedly short. He takes the hand.
He sees Fu Yao and Nan Feng for all of five minutes before they are separated again. Between additional corpses, missing wedding veils, stupid men, and bandaged children, Xie Lian feels like he is being spun in circles by the time Xuan Ji is captured and kneeling.
General Pei Xu hovers with a stern face over the raging Xuan Ji when Fu Yao and Nan Feng finally return with matching looks of annoyance.
“Your brat is gone,” Nan Feng says mildly, sparing a brief glance to Pei Xu. Xie Lian frowns.
“That's a shame. I swear he-”
“Your fathers have been looking for you,” Pei Xu cuts in, crossing his arms and glaring at Nan Feng and Fu Yao. “Heaven can only deal with so many of their spats, and this is arguably one of their worst.”
“That's not our fault,” Fu Yao scoffs, jerking his head and leaving Xie Lian even more confused. Fathers? Feng Xin never mentioned a father and Mu Qing's was dead- “They weren't going to come down themselves, so we had to!”
“Yeah! If anything, this is their fault,” Nan Feng agrees with a shout and rapid nod.
Pei Xu blinks slowly in response, then steps to the side. Fu Yao and Nan Feng pale at the figures who emerge from the still swirling portal. Xie Lian feels his entire being shift to the left.
Feng Xin is as steady and sturdy as he's ever been. Golden eyes seem both impossibly soft and like they're made of steel. His bow rattles against his heavy armor as his bangs sway against his forehead. At his side, Mu Qing glides forward as well, all sharp features and flowing robes. Zhanmadao sways with each step, adding to the illusion of fury. They are martial gods in every aspect.
They are also not-
“What were you thinking?” Feng Xin yells, deep voice rattling through the night. A few trees might even shake. “Not telling anyone where you were going, who you were going with- did you even think to ask Ling Wen what the mission entailed? And what about your duties as-”
“Ugh, just say you were worried and stop mother henning,” Fu Yao mutters with an eye roll. Nan Feng nods along with a wrinkled nose.
He adds on, “You two wanted to go anyways. As the head disciples of the Xuan Zhen and Nan Yang palaces, it's our duty to act where our Generals cannot.”
“And you think it was your place to do this?”
“Uh… Yeah.”
“Well, in that case…” Mu Qing drawls. He uncrosses his arms and begins listing things on his fingers. “You can start taking over correspondence with a few of the others. General Qi Ying to start, as I imagine sparring with him will be plenty easy for you two if you can handle something such as this. And of course you can start taking over more prayers, as well as delegations. Filling out reports for Ling Wen should be a breeze as well-”
While Mu Qing continued to rattle off a list for the further despairing disciples, Feng Xin turned to Xie Lian, who had yet to really move. Feng Xin reached a hand up to his neck, face scrunching like he ate something off. He said, “Your Highness…”
Mu Qing paused then, turning to Feng Xin for only a breath before turning to Xie Lian with a look in his eyes that Xie Lian would almost call pained. He gave a shallow bow -one that would be disrespectful to almost anyone else- and said haltingly, “Xie Lian. We appreciate you… watching over these wayward children.”
“We weren't wayward!” Nan Feng argues.
“And we aren't children anymore!” Fu Yao cries.
They're both silenced by a look from Mu Qing. Feng Xin's expression had not gotten better by the time he said, “If there are any payments you'd like for repercussions…”
Oh, yeah. They definitely hate me, Xie Lian thinks. Followed by:
Wait-
Nan Feng and Fu Yao weren't Feng Xin and Mu Qing.
Nan Feng and Fu Yao are Feng Xin and Mu Qing's children.
Feng Xin and Mu Qing are together.
Feng Xin and Mu Qing-
Tears suddenly sprouting to his eyes, Xie Lian bunches the ends of his sleeves in his fists. He chokes out, voice wavering, “You didn't invite me to your wedding?”
One beat, then two, and then all Hell breaks loose.