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A child no older than five stared at Mu Qing, peeking with large, tear-filled eyes from around the boundary wall of a ruined cottage. It took him by surprise; he hadn’t expected anyone to be alive. The charred remains of a village tormented by a demon were not a place for a child – Except Cuocuo. That demon spawn would fit right in. Another glance in the child’s direction squashed his momentary fear that it was Cuocuo. Good. Feng Xin’s tormented offspring was the last thing he wanted to deal with.
The next problem was that Mu Qing had no idea how to speak to children. In theory it couldn’t be that much different from speaking to an adult. Right?
“Hello. Why are you here? Where is–”
The child screamed in distress, startling him. He pressed his hands over his ears.
“It’s OK. There’s no need to cry.” Though Mu Qing spoke to the child, it was for himself as much as her.
It didn’t help. A girl, if the long, messy hair and grubby dress were anything to go by. Though she was dirty, she looked neither malnourished nor neglected. She must be lost. Tears tumbled down her flushed cheeks, snot dripping from her nose and soaking into her clothes. The high-pitched wail grated on Mu Qing’s already-thin patience. She was well enough to scream her lungs out; a good sign, all things considered.
“P-please stop crying. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” Mu Qing dropped a hand to awkwardly pat her shoulder. “Come on now. There’s no need to cry.” She only cried louder.
Mu Qing had initially regretted offering his help. One of his generals had rushed to inform him that wailing had been heard amongst the wreckage of the settlement. For the smallest chance for another survivor, Mu Qing wanted to assist. Technically, this was Feng Xin’s territory, but as he was nowhere to be found, it fell on Mu Qing’s shoulders. Typical Feng Xin, leaving him to do the actual work.
At the end of his tether, Mu Qing grabbed the girl and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Stunned into silence, her cries slowed to sniffles muffled by his shoulder and finally ceased. He sighed in relief and mourned the loss of his robe. He’d sooner burn it than wear it again.
“What the fuck is going on?”
“Watch your language!” Mu Qing snapped over his shoulder.
That voice was the last he wanted to hear. If Mu Qing was a gambling man, he’d bet on Feng Xin mocking him and making the entire situation worse. Though the years had smoothed the sharp edges of their friendship, their peace was tentative.
“I am stealing this child to sacrifice her,” Mu Qing deadpanned. He turned on his heel to face Feng Xin. “Make yourself useful and carry her.”
Feng Xin regarded Mu Qing; the flecks of gold in his eyes sparkled with amusement. He shrugged and offered a bright smile. “Sure. Let’s hurry and get her back to Dianxia for the ritual.”
Mu Qing hadn’t expected Feng Xin to play along with his very obvious, and rather rude, jibe. His mouth tugged into a slight smile that swiftly faded as the high-pitched crying resumed.
“I don’t think she agrees with your idea,” Mu Qing said on a sigh. “Though you may be onto something with Dianxia. Perhaps we should go to the shrine and ask for his advice? I have no doubt that he’s dealt with a lost child before.”
Feng Xin considered the proposal for a minute but shook his head. “Dianxia and Hua Cheng spend most of their time together. Inside of the shrine. With the doors locked and a notice outside to come back another day. Is it a wise idea to barge in?”
The implication was clear. Feng Xin made a good point. The thought of Dianxia tangling himself with Hua Cheng was grim enough without consideration of their sex life. No thank you. Mu Qing shuddered, shaking himself from that trail of thought.
“Absolutely not,” he agreed, placing her on the ground. Her crying quietened down when freed from his grasp.
Feng Xin knelt to speak at her eye level. “Hello. I’m Feng Xin. We didn’t mean to scare you. Are you lost? Where are your parents?”
She nodded. “I’m lost,” she mumbled and her voice trembled.
Mu Qing doubted she’d know where her parents were; especially in such destruction. Not to mention the possibility her family had been killed in the carnage. He hoped it wasn’t the case. He needed to confirm it, either from a list of victims or searching the remains himself; the scent of death lingered even after, presumably, any bodies had been removed. He should summon one of his deputies, task them with looking after her until any remaining family were found but the guilt would eat at him. Mu Qing knew all too well how difficult life without a father, and eventually a mother, was.
“Are you slow? Of course she’s not going to be able to tell you that,” Mu Qing snapped at Feng Xin. He was torn; prayers were piling up at the palace, and they’d already wasted enough time but he wanted to help her.
“You’re the one who doesn’t even know how to talk to a child!” Feng Xin yelled.
Mu Qing growled at the insult. “What the fuck do you mean by that?” She started crying again before Feng Xin could retort. Her screeching wails were like fingernails against slate.
“I’m sorry. I promise that we’re not angry at you. What’s your name?” Feng Xin grinned and jabbed a thumb at his chest. Then he pointed in the other direction. “That is Mu Qing.” He mouthed something that suspiciously looked like ‘unfortunately’.
Mu Qing bit his tongue, not allowing himself to be drawn into yet another argument. He sighed and massaged his temples. Feng Xin often proved himself a loud-mouthed lout, but he had saved his life on more than one occasion. Something needed to change. He was tired of fighting.
She dragged the ruined cuff of her dress under her snotty nose, her curiosity stronger than her tears. “ I’m Ling!” she squealed.
Well, a name was a start.
“Nice to meet you, Ling. How old are you? You’re so big, soon you’ll be taller than me,” Feng Xin asked, all smiles and cheerful energy.
The corners of Ling’s mouth tugged into a small smile. She stared at Feng Xin and counted her fingers, mumbling each number to herself. She presented four digits to him. “Three!”
She giggled when Feng Xin tapped her hand with his in a gentle high-five.
“Well, now that we know her name and age. What do we do?” Mu Qing asked impatiently, he had an infinite amount of tasks to complete and places to be; the sooner they got Ling home, the better. He really hoped her parents were amongst the living. Assuming Feng Xin hadn’t changed his personal array’s password, it’d be better to speak openly there.
‘Do you think her parents are still alive? The scent of death is still strong here, I assume your deputies moved the bodies for identification and burial when they first arrived,’ Mu Qing asked.
‘Yes. I haven’t seen the casualty list yet though.’
‘I knew there had been an attack, but didn’t realise the scale of it until I came.’
‘Why did you?’ Feng Xin asked.
‘A deputy urged me to come. I sent them onward to investigate the destruction. The village being close to my border was a risk to my people. They were ordered to report to me once they were done. They heard Ling crying and called me sooner.’ Mu Qing shrugged before continuing. ‘For all they knew, it was a trap. Summoning me seemed to be the best choice.’
A small tug at his robes pulled Mu Qing’s attention away from the array. Looking down he found Ling grabbing at the long length of his sleeve. He knelt. “Yes?”
“Can we go home?” Ling asked.
“Yes, we’ll get you home soon.” Mu Qing glanced up at Feng Xin.
Feng Xin no longer paid attention to the conversation. He had two fingers pressed to his temple, clearly preoccupied. His conversation took a while. Mu Qing fought the temptation to eavesdrop. He entertained Ling by pretending to hit her with his sleeve, she giggled and hopped around to avoid it.
“Sorry about that. Good and bad news,” Feng Xin announced.
Mu Qing frowned. “Well? Spit it out.”
“The good news is that her parents are alive and well.” Relief flooded Mu Qing.
“The bad news is that they’re back in the palace. She’s the kid of one of my deputies. Her parents were dispatched, she wandered off. Somehow she slipped past both the childcare and the guards. When her parents came back, she was gone. They’re panicking and desperate to get her home.” Feng Xin scratched his neck, awkwardly ruffling the hair at his nape.
“What the hell, she escaped from your palace? You have useless guards for a child to not only leave your palace unnoticed but travel so far,” Mu Qing snapped. The entire situation was absurd. Ling had been in danger as soon as she’d left the palace walls. Thank the heavens for small miracles. Mu Qing blamed Feng Xin entirely.
The accusations of his entourage’s incompetence drew Feng Xin’s ire. “You’ve got some nerve to accuse us of being incompetent when you don’t even know where your land ends and mine begins!” Feng Xin shouted.
Did he forget Mu Qing was asked to come? They wouldn’t ignore a cry for help, it went against any reasonable martial God’s principles. Differences aside, any one of them would have rendered aid. “You weren’t there. The town was destroyed. Innocent people were killed. What was I supposed to do, ignore it?”
They argued back and forth, getting in each other’s faces, hurling insults as they went. Ling’s high-pitched squeal, and watery eyes soon shut them up. Feng Xin stomped away until he was a spot in the distance.
Mu Qing sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, he was at fault. Just a little.
“We go home?” The small voice pulled Mu Qing away from his thoughts.
“Yes, let’s go see your mama.” Ling’s answering smile melted his heart. With a heavy sigh, Mu Qing entered Feng Xin’s communication array. ‘Alright. I get your point. Can you just come back now? We need to get Ling home.’
‘ We don’t need to do anything. Get her home yourself since you’re so competent.
In reality, Mu Qing didn’t need his help to get Ling back to the palace; he could navigate it with his eyes closed. However, Ling liked Feng Xin and would probably cry without him. Feng Xin needed to come with them, willingly. Mu Qing swallowed his pride. ‘I’m sorry for being rude. Ling really likes you, we should take her back home, both of us.’
Feng Xin muffled a laugh, unsuccessfully. ‘Of course she does, she knows greatness when she sees it.’ He paused. ‘However, apology accepted, truce?’
Mu Qing hummed. ‘Truce. Now hurry back.’
“Up.” Ling said, raising her arms toward Mu Qing. “Up, up, up!” She giggled.
He was torn about carrying Ling home. Ignoring the dirt on her face and her ragged clothes, children were infamous for carrying all manner of germs. Though, he wouldn’t be permanently affected by anything she could carry. It would be an inconvenience at worst. Still, not something he wanted to risk.
“You want me to carry you?” Mu Qing clarified.
“Yes! Up please.” Ling cried happily. He acquiesced and picked her up, placing her on his shoulders. Keeping her steady with one hand whilst she wriggled to get comfy, he noticed Feng Xin drawing closer.
“I’m back,” Feng Xin called cheerfully as he stopped in front of them. “Which way do we go?”
The quickest way back to Feng Xin’s palace was back through the village- oh. “I guess we’ll go around. There’s more to see that way.” Lying came easy to Mu Qing.
“I agree. It’s the only way to see the best animals!” Feng Xin explained, grinning at the smile that crept across Ling’s face.
The detour would double the length of their journey, but Ling had seen enough already. He only hoped she’d forget their misadventure as time went on.
So they walked. Ling settled happily on Mu Qing’s shoulders, legs swinging and arms waving. Feng Xin kept her attention, and eyes, away from the town. He chatted about everything and nothing, she replied in a few words, mostly nonsense but he paid her his full attention.
“What’s that?” she asked, pointing to a small animal in a branch above their heads. It had a twitchy nose and a bushy tail longer than its body.
“Squirrel!” Feng Xin announced. He’d been grinning since they departed.
It turned out Feng Xin was knowledgeable about the wildlife in his territory. He carefully explained each and every animal that Ling pointed out. He was patient with her continuous ‘Why?’ at every snippet of information he gave her. As they circled around the edge of the devastation, Feng Xin distracted her.
Mu Qing liked Feng Xin’s laughter more than his biting remarks. He was loud and bright against the silence. Mu Qing was going to be disappointed when Feng Xin reverted to his usual loud and brash self. Maybe he should adopt a child with Feng Xin to keep the fragile peace. Mu Qing snorted; what a strange thought. The rest of the journey continued much in the same vein.
“You’re good with children,” Mu Qing commented without much thought.
Feng Xin froze. Mu Qing rarely complimented people. Such an out of the blue comment would give him reason to be confused. Mu Qing was naturally skeptical but he couldn’t deny Feng Xin had been nothing but an asset. He’d never admit it aloud but things may not have been going so smoothly without him.
Feng Xin shrugged. “Thank you.” A wry smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “I guess you could say I have practice.”
Mu Qing muffled a snort behind his palm. It wasn’t a lie, Cuo Cuo was a test practice of patience in every encounter. “Well then. Ever considered having more?” There was no logical reason for the question, just the first thought that popped into his head.
The silence stretched on whilst Feng Xin stewed on the question. Deep in thought, he finally answered after a glance toward Ling. “I’m undecided.”
Mu Qing hummed. “You’d be a good father.” If the child isn’t a ghost.
The apples of Feng Xin’s cheeks flushed, he didn’t respond further.
The rest of the trek was uneventful, Ling giggled, Feng Xin explained and Mu Qing watched them thoughtfully. The high walls of the Southeastern palace were now on the horizon and their journey would soon be at an end. An unusual way to spend an afternoon, though it wasn’t horrible.
“Ling. You see that big palace? Your Mama and Papa are waiting there for you,” Feng Xin cooed at her.
“Mama!” she screamed happily. Mu Qing would miss her happy noises; it was better than the usual mix of prayers and complaints.
“Down please.” Mu Qing placed Ling on the floor, rolling his shoulders with a groan of mild discomfort.
“Why didn’t you ask me to carry her?” Feng Xin questioned. His judgemental gaze burned into him.
“I’m not weak,” Mu Qing snapped.
Feng Xin blinked at the outburst. He shrugged. “I know you’re not. You’ve been carrying her for hours, anyone would be in discomfort. Just concerned that you were hurt, nothing more than that. No need to bite my head off.”
Mu Qing had jumped to conclusions and snapped at Feng Xin, he opened his mouth to apologise–
“Mama!”
A couple rushed through the ornate entrance archway toward them. The woman had her arms outstretched as she ran; Ling’s mother. The rush of relief that flooded Mu Qing was overwhelming. He’d known she was safe but their reunion left him melancholic; he’d never have the same with his mother.
“Ling! Where have you been, why did you follow us? We said we’d be home soon!” She caught up to them and scooped Ling into her arms, not caring about the dirt transferring to her robes. She pressed Ling to her chest, crying into her hair. Ling had no opportunity to respond, folding herself into her mother’s hug.
The man watched their reunion with wet eyes though he didn’t openly cry. When he caught Feng Xin’s gaze, he darted forward and gave his General a quick bow. “Sir! I am so sorry for the trouble that my daughter caused you…we told her we’d be back soon. I guess she decided to find us sooner.” He sounded panicked.
Feng Xin shook his head, a grin brightening up his usually serious face. “What have I told you about calling me ‘Sir’, Chen Zhi? General is fine. And besides, Ling caused no trouble.” Mu Qing would disagree with that though he didn’t voice his opinion.
“If you say so…” Chen Zhi wasn’t convinced. “I think it’ll be a while before she lets Ling go. I’m sure you have better things to do with your time. Thank you again, General.” Zhi gave another bow and joined in the hug with his wife and child.
Ling peeked at them, around the tangle of her parent’s arms. “Thank you. Bye-bye!”
Feng Xin snorted, turning to Mu Qing. “Well. That was,” he paused, “...interesting.”
Mu Qing hummed. It had been something, a waste of time yet a brief reprieve from the work that awaited him back at the palace. He couldn’t put it off any longer. It was time to get back. Mu Qing turned and walked away.
“Want some company?” Feng Xin asked. “I think they’ll be here a while. A debrief is probably a good idea and we should discuss some new protocols to stop that from happening again.”
Mu Qing wasn’t particularly in the mood for company; they’d spent hours together trying to entertain Ling. Some small part of him, however, could admit that he might miss their lively chatter. Back at the palace, most of the conversation was stilted discussion with his deputies that had to maintain a level of respect. It was controlled pleasantries, not casual conversation.
He looked back at Feng Xin and shrugged. “If you want.” Feng Xin dashed to catch up and fell into step beside him.
They walked in comfortable silence. He’d been expecting Feng Xin to prattle on about needing some new rules about them needing to ensure that no children escaped their palace’s watch. To be frank, it was only the Southeast’s palace that had such a weakness, his own was secure enough. He wasn’t about to raise the point though
Before Mu Qing realised it, they were close to his palace. He blinked up at the familiar stone walls and his guards standing to attention. He turned his attention back to Feng Xin. “And here we are.”
“That walk always feels shorter than the last time,” Feng Xin stated, looking back at him. “I was really worried for Ling at the start. The thought of such a small child being orphaned really is horrible. Not that I would have let her suffer. I would have adopted her as my own.”
Mu Qing froze. “...You’d have adopted her, just like that?”
It was the last thing Mu Qing expected from Feng Xin. Not that he had a cruel bone in his body, he knew that Feng Xin would want Ling to be safe and happy. But not to adopt her personally.
Feng Xin gazed at Mu Qing like he’d said something outrageous. “Well of course. She deserves nothing but the best.”
Mu Qing tried not to smile, a corner of his mouth tugged up. “Only you would adopt someone else’s child. Always trying to be the hero, huh?” His comment wasn’t intended to be rude, only factual.
Feng Xin guffawed. “Fair enough, I can’t deny that.”
It’d taken hundreds of years and too many misunderstandings. Feng Xin was headstrong, loud and very uncouth but his heart was in the right place. That was enough for Mu Qing to understand.
“You’re growing soft.” Mu Qing teased, stepping forward to take his leave.
“What?” Feng Xin yelled. Mu Qing turned to stare at him. Feng Xin grinned and flexed his arm, showing bulging muscles. “I’m as hard as ever.”
Mu Qing rolled his eyes, though he smiled. “Goodbye, Feng Xin.”
As he turned to leave, Feng Xin grabbed his hand, his grip was solid and firm. A shiver chased the length of Mu Qing’s spine, his gaze dropped to where their skin made contact. Raising his questioning gaze to Feng Xin’s face, surprised by the softness of his eyes.
“We have Prayers to deal with tonight. But tomorrow, come over for tea?”
Mu Qing gazed down to where his traitorous fingers curled around Feng Xin’s. He inwardly cursed the audacity of his pale complexion to redden in the heat of a blush at the tips of his ears. “Fine.”