#perhaps I was too harsh on gudao

[gae-bolg-alternative-dot-exe]

[rose-tinted-vision]

初见：First meetings

Fandom: Mysterious Lotus Casebook (莲花楼)

Relationship: Li Lianhua | Li Xiangyi/Di Feisheng

[read it on ao3]

“The moon that year was not as bright as today,” Di Feisheng remarks, and Li Lianhua feels a wry smile bloom across his face, despite himself.

How ironic, Li Lianhua thinks, that the person who was said to have destroyed Li Xiangyi and his precious Sigu sect is the only one he had allowed himself to trust.

(Perhaps that was the reason why Fang Duobing had finally dropped his line of questioning back then– he too, believed that Li Xiangyi loathed Di Feisheng– except that that was never the case).

He could never have brought himself to truly hate Di Feisheng, not even when he believed that he had killed Shan Gudao.

11 years ago

Li Xiangyi briefly wonders if he had remembered wrongly and had perhaps drank more than he had thought, because there was another man standing across him on the rooftop of the House of Delights, sword drawn and levelled at him.

A challenge.

Never had anyone else interrupted his sword dance before, in the two years that he had started this monthly tradition of sword-dancing for A-Mian, and it had been a while since anyone dared to challenge him to a duel.

(His opponent was quite easy on the eyes too, hard lines and roughened edges somewhat softened by the moonlight that encased him in its glow. The man doesn't give him any more time to admire him as he charges, his patience wearing thin).

Li Xiangyi grins, sharp and predatory, blood thrumming with excitement as he lunges in answer.

The duel turns out even better than he anticipated, his opponent clearly skilled as he matches his attacks, the harsh clang of steel-on-steel a disjointed harmony, a deadly melody of their hunger for blood. Li Xiangyi lets out a laugh, maniacal and unrestrained, feeling more alive than he has had in months.

To have such a worthy opponent offer himself at his doorstep, he was truly a godsend, Li Xiangyi thinks.

—

Di Feisheng leapt from rooftop to rooftop, scouring the area for a figure clad in white that was said to be dancing under the moonlight, as fluid and graceful as a swan in flight.

“Li Xiangyi,” he declares, finally spotting his target, “I challenge you to a duel.”

The boy was clearly surprised, pausing mid-spin, his sword still pointed towards the sky. He looked so young, nothing at all like the image of Sect Leader Li, rising star of the jianghu that he had built up in his mind.

But then Li Xiangyi grins, a feral, predatory thing that sends thrills of excitement down his spine, and Di Feisheng barely has time to react as Li Xiangyi attacks.

They clash in a flurry of blades, movements weaving their way around one another as they block, parry and attack all at once. It takes all of his concentration just to anticipate Li Xiangyi’s next move and parry it, and his blood practically sings with excitement. It has been too long since anyone made him work up a sweat, and to have finally found his match was an incomparable feeling.

Li Xiangyi barks out a laugh, a clear, bright sound that stuns Di Feisheng into nearly getting a stab to the chest.

He just barely manages to dodge on instinct, shaking himself free from Li Xiangyi’s spell.

Right. Being at the top was lonely, that much he had known. Li Xiangyi must feel the same way too, the thrill of the fight, never wanting it to end. And so they continue, their duel sending off shockwaves that shake the building they had made their battlefield.

(He would send money for reparations later).

They continue even as the crowd gathered starts to thin.

They continue even as night bleeds into day and day to night.

They continue until they have exhausted all their qi, barely able to move but satisfied.

“May I know the name of this brother?”

—

Di Feisheng.

Li Xiangyi would remember that name.

He is sorry to see the other go, the man eventually picking himself up from the rooftop as the first rays of sunlight bleed into the sky, casting its soft golden hues across the horizon.

It had been tempting to invite the other to join his Sigu sect, to ask him to stay, but instinct told him that the man would have turned him down.

This was not someone who would tie himself down to anything, Li Xiangyi thinks. Di Feisheng was made to roam the jianghu in search of the best of duels with his brilliantly forged dao by his side, unfettered by worldly affairs.

And so Li Xiangyi contents himself with watching Di Feisheng’s retreating back, flopping back against the roof tiles once he sees the figure disappear. The rooftop was growing warmer as the sun crawled its way up the sky, and there was only so long he could avoid his sect leader duties for, but for now–

He would lay here a while longer, soaking up the morning sunlight, pretending that he was just another member of the jianghu and not Sect Leader Li.

—

Di Feisheng had planned to train for half a year, at least, before seeking out Li Xiangyi again. It was something that he had explicitly told Wu Yan and the other three, who had offered no opposition.

He had not expected this.

Somewhere along his journey, he had amassed a small following; a group of ragtag travellers who insisted on following him across the jianghu, no matter how hard he had tried to shake them off. They stuck to him incessantly, even though he had warned them that he had no money for their food or lodging, even despite his warnings that he cared for nothing but the top of the jianghu.

Most were either challengers who he defeated along the way or servants whose masters he had killed, people who did not mind a life on the road, some who shared the same hunger for the top.

Either way, there had been a few incidents along the way, illnesses and injuries that had not been treated in time before they took their victim. And despite himself, despite what he had told them, he decided to find a place for them to stay.

It was for convenience’s sake, he tells them bluntly. It would be easier to travel without the bunch of them slowing him down.

(He ignores the knowing glance that Wu Yan sends his way).

With that settled, he continues back on the rest of the untraveled road. He would become the strongest, free himself of the damned mind control bug, and fight Li Xiangyi again.

—

Li Xiangyi continues dancing on the rooftop of the House of Delights every month, trying to ignore the curling anticipation in his gut, stubbornly ignoring its implications.

(And yet, as he lay under the cover of the dark at night, with the moon as his only witness, he would allow himself to admit that perhaps his intentions for putting on a show of sword-dancing had shifted.

Just the tiniest bit.

He was still putting on a show for someone. Dancing as he waited for that commanding presence to appear once more, for him to show up and demand a challenge from him again).

Di Feisheng doesn't show up.

But there were rumours of a new group calling themselves the Jinyuan Alliance, whose members have been making a ruckus across the jianghu, and soon Li Xiangyi is too busy to continue waiting.

—

He does not care about that motley crew, Di Frisheng had claimed. And yet, his feet take him back to the secluded estate he'd left the bunch of them at– why he does so, he does not completely understand. He could have easily ditched them or left them to their own devices. After all, he owed them nothing.

Upon his return, he discovers that Bai Wang, Qingzun, and Zunming had established themselves as the Jinyuan Alliance, and had unanimously elected him as their head.

“I refuse,” he says flatly, thinking that would be the end of it. He would prove that he could reach the top on his own, he would forge his own path, he didn't need a following to scare others into submission.

He would not be like the Di Fortress.

“You misunderstand, Zunshang. The Alliance will never be like those petty sects, pretending to stand with the righteous. Most of us act independently, we will not ask you to mollycoddle us.”

“Yeah, zunshang,” Qingzun drawled, “most of them just need a place to stay, like us.”

He turns to Wu Yan, who shrugs, signalling with a shake of his head to leave him out of it.

Figuring that it was best to leave it be rather than argue with the Three Kings– as they had dubbed themselves, he learnt– Di Feisheng waves a dismissive hand, a silent agreement to their request.

Half a year eventually passes, and then another, as he has his hands full with settling matters that came with being the mengzhu of this Jinyuan Alliance that had been foisted onto him– we won't bother you, what lies.

He does not forget the promise he had made to himself, not once. He would reach the top, and spar with Li Xiangyi again.

But such was the ways of life, he muses, that the next time he does see Li Xiangyi, it is on the rough seas. The man had issued him a challenge letter, and he would be damned if he passed up this opportunity to test his skills against the world’s Number One.

—

“The moon that day was just the same as today’s.” Li Lianhua eventually replies.

No matter whether it was ten years ago, or now, they had both changed with the passing of time, the only constant being the moon that shone just as brightly back then as it illuminated their battles.

They had met all but two times, and yet it had been enough to leave an impression on each other's lives.

It was as A-Fei had said; that he just knew, no matter what anybody said, that deep down that Di Feisheng was important to him.