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Fang Xin thought it over a little longer before sending for Lang Qianqiu to the private hall.
Surprised and quietly awed that his master had made such a request, the young Crown Prince of Yong An presented himself as properly as possible, without veering into extravagance.
Neatly groomed and carrying a clean, understated scent, Lang Qianqiu appeared. “Master. Did you call for me?”
Xie Lian wanted to smile when he saw him.
Since when did this boy become so informal?
“Your Highness, I want to ask you something.”
Lang Qianqiu’s essence filled with anticipation, his star-bright eyes fixed attentively on the beautiful figure before him.
“Do you still want to get married?” the omega asked.
“…”
Seeing the young man’s expression, Xie Lian realized he hadn’t explained himself well and rephrased.
“I remind you,” he said calmly, “that you are a Crown Prince. Before inheriting your father’s throne, you must already have chosen the person with whom you will spend your life and rule at your side. Your time is running out.”
Lang Qianqiu swallowed hard.
Fang Xin continued. “On the other hand, I have always said that you have the potential to ascend. Those destined for it will do so naturally. For you, it is only a matter of time.”
“Therefore, my question is this: do you want to marry, or do you want to ascend? No matter what you choose, I will support you and arrange everything.”
Lang Qianqiu stared at him in shock.
Aside from the words “I will support you,” which his master had spoken the first time they met—when Lang Qianqiu had been a kidnapped child and the man who was then a wandering vagrant had saved him—Lang Qianqiu had never received words so direct and so warm.
First it had been “I will protect you,” then “I will support you.”
Could Lang Qianqiu ever be shameless enough to ask for more?
He didn’t know.
“Guoshi knows much,” he said hesitantly. “What do you think is best?”
Fang Xin turned serious. “Mind the way you address me, and answer properly.”
Like a scolded puppy, Lang Qianqiu shrank back. Though he felt miserable, a small spark of joy bloomed in his chest.
Fang Xin hadn’t reprimanded him the first time he’d used you. Only now, after testing his patience, had he been pushed back.
Still, he had behaved improperly. “I’m sorry, Master.”
“It seems this is a matter that requires time for you to decide,” Fang Xin said. “If that is the case, I apologize and will take my leave.”
Before Fang Xin could take a single step, he was stopped by Lang Qianqiu’s tall figure hastily moving in front of him, blocking his path.
“Wait!” the young man blurted out. “I was joking, Master. I’ve already thought about this long ago. I don’t need more time.”
Xie Lian fell silent. Slowly, he lifted his chin a few centimeters, shifting his gaze from the prince’s shoulders to his face.
Looking at those graceful, youthful features, Xie Lian thought:
Look at you—already this grown, and still acting like a puppy before his first love.
He did not allow the thought to show. With a cold expression, he asked, “Then I expect Your Highness to inform me of your decision.”
“I want to ascend,” Lang Qianqiu declared. “But I want my master to come with me.”
Xie Lian felt utterly confused.
He guarded his expression carefully, his silver mask hiding every trace of it. Lang Qianqiu once again regretted that his master took medicine to suppress his scent.
His master was an omega. A single omega. Why would he do that? Did he truly not care for his own health?
If he came with me…
“I’m afraid I must decline Your Highness’s request,” Xie Lian said evenly. “I have no interest in visiting the heavens.”
Only Guoshi Fang Xin of Yong An would say such a thing!
Lang Qianqiu was shocked—and admiring. “Does Master know the heavens?”
“Do not change the subject. I will not go.”
“Why not?!”
“And why would Your Highness want me there in the first place?”
Lang Qianqiu began, “Master is wise, kind, just, and—”
“And I have told you not to take me for some incorruptible saint,” Fang Xin interrupted. “I have made mistakes. Fix that firmly in your mind.”
“Master…”
Fang Xin flicked his sleeves. “Since you intend to ascend, I will speak to His Majesty about educating a second prince. I advise you to visit Prince An Le less often, and on the day of the banquet, arrive a little late.”
Lang Qianqiu frowned. “An Le? What does Prince An Le have to do with this?”
“I am not saying he is a bad boy,” Fang Xin replied. “Only that he is your most likely betrothed. That is why you should not arrive early at the banquet. Avoid interacting with young noblemen.”
For some reason, Lang Qianqiu felt dazzled. “Does Master truly believe I will ascend soon?”
“It is only a matter of time.”
Days later, Fang Xin shared something else with his disciple.
“If someday in the heavens you find yourself in serious trouble, or feel you need the guidance of an elder, you may always ask General Nan Yang.”
Lang Qianqiu frowned. “Master, why are you telling me this? You speak as if you do not plan to stay with me there.”
“…”
Is his heat approaching?
Xie Lian wondered if Lang Qianqiu’s pre-heat was making him foolish. He set the thought aside and focused. He didn’t smell musk on the young man either.
“It is likely Nan Yang will refuse you at first,” he continued. “But you must be patient with him and tell him this—”
He leaned in and whispered a few words into Lang Qianqiu’s ear.
The young alpha wondered if the pounding of his heart was too loud, if Guoshi could hear it. Despite his nerves, he focused on the phrase—and was deeply surprised.
As his master walked away, beyond missing his presence, Lang Qianqiu asked,“Will those words truly help me?”
“Nan Yang will understand them.”
“And if he asks who said them?”
“Tell him the one who told you was the owner of Hong Jing.”
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Days later, the Golden Banquet took place.
The scarlet blood of Yong An’s entire nobility stained golden cups and plates. Of all the clan members and officials, only the Crown Prince survived.
That same night, Guoshi Fang Xin was declared guilty and pursued by guards—and by his own student.
When the Prince caught up to him, he drove a stake through his chest and sealed him, dying, in a triple-layered coffin.
That was the end of Guoshi Fang Xin.
Lang Qianqiu did not dare think about how easy it had all been.
When he ascended to the heavens, he did not question how easily matters of regents and heirs had been resolved.
“I will arrange everything.”
Lang Qianqiu did not want to think about it.
Upon arriving in the heavens, he did not bother to seek out General Nan Yang. From his master’s words, it was clear the omega and the general were connected, and Lang Qianqiu did not wish to entangle himself in that.
Thinking of his master was too painful.
So even when he encountered serious trouble at times, he asked no one for help.
Years later, when Lang Qianqiu finally felt able to question things about his master, he learned something.
General Nan Yang owned a sword called Hong Jing.
“…”
Lang Qianqiu promptly requested an audience with General Nan Yang.
When the alpha received him, Lang Qianqiu felt like a puppy again—but still asked, “How long have you owned Hong Jing?”
Feng Xin was puzzled. “Hong Jing has been with me for several years.”
“Did you know its previous owner?”
“The sword was lost in the Mortal Realm for centuries and had countless masters,” he shrugged. “I know none of them.”
“You must know one.”
“I don’t.”
“You do,” Lang Qianqiu insisted.
Feng Xin frowned. “Why are you pressing me on this?”
Even Lang Qianqiu didn’t understand. What did it matter now? More than a hundred years had passed!
Still, he said, “Someone once told me that if I ever got into trouble, I should go to you, General Nan Yang.”
Feng Xin was even more confused. Why should he be involved?
“And who is this person? I don’t recall owing any mortal a debt.”
Strangely, Lang Qianqiu felt offended. How could someone like him be forgotten?
“You must,” he said. “He was the owner of Hong Jing. He told me I should say some words to you, and that you would understand. He seemed to know you well.”
A vague premonition crept over Feng Xin. He wondered if he should call Mu Qing.
“What… words did he tell you?”
As Lang Qianqiu opened his mouth, he stopped.
He realized he couldn’t remember.
“I… it’s been a long time,” he said hurriedly. “But! It had something to do with suspenders and hanfu! He—!”
Suddenly flustered, he gestured clumsily, raising his hand to shoulder height.
“He was about this tall—not too thin, not too broad!” he searched his memories desperately.
“Black hair like a crow—no, was it brown? Thin lips, a long neck—yes, like that, Guoshi always wore high collars—his voice was cold and very reserved—”
He could no longer remember the voice, only that it had been icy.
“He had no scent because he took special medicine, but there was something floral about him. His hair was always pinned, and he liked black. He was very serious and quiet.”
Only then did Feng Xin relax. Regret flickered through him at disappointing the young god, but he said,
“I’m sorry. I don’t know anyone like that.”
Lang Qianqiu refused to give up. “You must have known an owner of Hong Jing like that. He told me so.”
Feng Xin looked at him oddly. “The only owner of Hong Jing I’ve ever known is completely different from the person you’re describing.”
Kind, affectionate, talkative, dressed in white—someone who would never hide his face nor restrain the hair he loved so dearly.
Even if the last time Feng Xin had seen him, Xie Lian had changed greatly, he still believed that essence remained.
Entirely different from the person Lang Qianqiu described.
“Besides,” Feng Xin added, “he wasn’t mortal. And he was an omega.”
Lang Qianqiu stared at him. “My master was also an omega…”
Feng Xin knew the story of Guoshi Fang Xin now. Confusion gripped him. “Wasn’t your master an alpha?”
Lang Qianqiu bristled. “Do you have some misunderstanding about my kingdom?! He was an omega! And an excellent swordsman!”
Xie Lian had also been a formidable swordsman.
Feng Xin grew alarmed. “Where is he now?”
Wait—didn’t Guoshi Fang Xin’s story end with him being sealed in a grave?!
The alpha’s voice sharpened. “Take me to him!”
Feng Xin called Mu Qing. A confused and fearful Lang Qianqiu led them to the place where he remembered the tomb.
The generals did not voice their suspicions, but Lang Qianqiu was not stupid. From their behavior, his mind arrived at a single possibility after revisiting history.
Fear filled him.
Was it really possible?
When they arrived, they discovered three things:
The earth had been disturbed.
The wood had been battered and deeply clawed.
And inside the coffin, only a silver mask remained.
At the sight, Mu Qing said simply,
“He escaped.”