unfinishedsentences

[unfinishedsentences]

[ Went with something nice for the Xianle quatet :) ]

The first time they all eat together is awkward.

Xie Lian had made a habit of inviting Mu Qing and Feng Xin to lunch every week. He says he needs to catch up on everything that happens to them during those eight hundred years.

(Despite the disgusting food, none of them can say no to Xie Lian so they always go.)

But when Hua Cheng comes back, something shifts. The atmosphere is heavier, the silence louder. Everyone can see the tension, even Xie Lian who pretends he doesn't.

Those meetings are always fake smiles and barely concealed barbs. And yet, it eventually gets nostalgic, after all it's hard not to be when you're insulted in Xianle's dialect. They may be the last four still remembering and following some of the old kingdom's customs.

So well, maybe it was bound to happen.

Maybe Feng Xin was meant to be kept by Ling Wen and Mu Qing was meant to go to Pushi Shrine alone. Maybe Xie Lian was meant to struggle with his cooking.

Or maybe it's all a coincidence.

In any case, that happens, and Hua Cheng and Mu Qing end up spending some time together. It starts as criticism, insults but somehow it ends as confessions hidden below snarky comments.

But they both know their way with words.

When Xie Lian joins them, he is surprised to see them both sitting peacefully.

And maybe as Mu Qing is about to leave, maybe they share a glance heavy with new found understatement.

The next week, for untrained eyes, things are the same: they "politely" insult each other as they always have. But some may notice the little details because something has definitely changed.

[unfinishedsentences]

You know that saying about things not being set in stone, how they’re set in dirt roads and when you travel the same road long enough, it becomes hard to take any other path?? Anyway… I just think that’s a beautiful take on soulmates. They weren’t destined. It wasn’t meant to be. Nothing was written in the stars. But they fought for each other, they fought with each other, they continued to choose each other at every turn and refused to let the other go, and at a certain point, no one else would ever do.

[unfinishedsentences]

For the sake of making a quite easy to read post (because it's still just a tumblr thing, i don't expect people to be there for a 5k word text, 2k is already a lot-), I cut off some moments and discussion between Mu Qing and different people. But i think i'd like to either make a second part or rework everything and make a whole fic.

But no matter what, I have yet to decide if there would be a happy ending after the angst.

[About a week ago, I wrote about Feng Xin after Mu Qing's death. Now, let me introduce you to Mu Qing, after Feng Xin's death, who is trying to pick up pieces of himself he never thought he would lose.]

---

When Feng Xin died, the Heavenly Capital could be divided in two categories: those heartbroken by the loss of a fellow colleague, and the one congratulating Xuan Zhen.

For a long while, Mu Qing didn’t know which group he belonged to. 

He couldn’t be part of the first group. Him? Heartbroken over Feng Xin? Hell no. Although he couldn’t say he was genuinely unaffected: his heart sank when Xie Lian’s gaze would turn distant while remembering memories with his old friend. Plus he did feel a sort of loss at the empty space on his right side. Sometimes he would catch himself raising his hand to contact Feng XIn through the Array before remembering it wasn’t possible anymore

But he didn’t feel like he belonged in the second group either. Even if he barely reacted after the initial shock, he just took Nan Yang deputies in and kept living his life. He felt it was pointless to cry for the late General anyway. Yet, he didn’t feel like celebrating the death like so many people thought he would. He still lost a great coworker.

Maybe he belonged in no group, as he always has. He’s been a loner all his life.

No that wasn’t true, he wasn’t a loner when he had Feng Xin’s attention on him.

It was a shame that the only person that came close to knowing him had to leave. But still, he wasn’t heartbroken, or not in the same way the Nan Yang deputies were, exhausted with red puffy eyes. He was just surprised, it wasn’t common for a god to die. He just needed to get used to it. 

That’s what Mu Qing told himself as days passed. 

But weeks turned into months and months into years and soon, some mortals started turning to him for their prayer. He felt the merit and his own powers grew, he saw the changes in the south; people were getting mad at Nan Yang for his inaction and leaving. Mu Qing wanted to scream to them it was pointless anger, that Nan Yang wasn’t mean, he was dead. But he didn’t, it wasn’t his place, instead he kept looking from afar. Maybe he was still not used to it.

As a god with a pretty much eternal life, time seems different, it felt like he barely looked away and mortals were already turning Nan Yang temple into Xuan Zhen ones. Mu Qing should have been ecstatic at the sudden increase in his martial powers, but surprisingly he wasn’t. It all happened too soon, how long has it been, barely 5 years? He sensed the need to destroy this temple but he couldn’t do so without damaging his reputation. Plus, deep down he understood, during the last five years, Xuan Zhen has been the one to answer prayer (or his deputies, if credit had to be given) so it made sense for those mortals to turn to him.

And yet he couldn’t accept it. He couldn’t accept that they would forget Nan yang so easily after eight hundred years of hard work.

But all he could do was watch as new merit and prayers came. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●

It took 50 years.

50 years before General Xuan Zhen commonly became the Martial God of the South.

50 years before every single Nan Yang Temple got replaced.

Or they thought so. There was one last temple. 

Back a few hundred years ago there used to be a town where they worshipped Nan Yang. Those people preferred to live by themselves deep in the first until one day, a beat attacked them. General Nan Yang killed it, of course, but after, the inhabitants chose to leave and settle elsewhere. The temple stayed and at first some people came to maintain its state, but eventually they stopped and the temple was lost to time.

Mu Qing couldn’t really explain why he chose to visit it but he did. He took his Fu Yao appearance in case he met some mortal and travelled to this forest.

Finding the temple proved to be quite the tough task: nature reasserted itself and no path was visible anymore. It was getting really dark and he thought about abandoning it when he saw it, a glimpse of a roof.

The temple looked just as you’d expect after many centuries without any care for it: there used to be a path but it has been long since covered in grass and moss, the walls were dark and rotten and a part of the roof had fallen. It was quite a pitiful sight for a once remarkable god.

He carefully made his way to the doors. He had to force them open, swollen by the humidity, but when they finally gave in, the sight he was met with was no better than the exterior. 

Some light came in from the broken roof and Mu Qing could see some remains of paint and gold on the wall. He could make out the shape of some offerings atop the altar. Behind, a huge greyish cloth was covering the statue of General Nan Yang. Mu Qing went straight for it, floor creaking under his feet.

The altar was even more miserable from afar, spider, broken porcelain and even something that must have been fruits. He even saw some incense sticks but truth be told , they were surely useless now.

His attention went back to the statue. Without a second thought, he grabbed the cloth and yanked it away.

Saying he didn't expect this sight would be an understatement. Feng Xin was never known for caring about how his followers depicted him, Mu Qing used to tease him about it endlessly. But this statue here? It was carved into a stone block and some elements were quite roughly sculpted: his bun was barely shaped, his ribbon lost in his hair and Mu Qing wasn’t really sure where the clothes ended and when the skin started. And yet, the statue was standing confidently, bow in hand, eyes fixed on an invisible point far away. His jaw was strong and sharp and his soulless gaze was carrying the same energy as in Mu Qing’s memories.

It wasn’t perfect but it looked like him just enough to hold the illusion. 

Mu Qing didn’t really mean to start talking, he couldn’t really explain what possessed him. Maybe it was the fact that he was alone in the middle of a forest or just the result of finally seeing the face he longed to find. In any case, at this moment it felt natural to speak.

“Hi Feng Xin.”

Of course he was met with silence, which should have been reassuring considering Feng Xin was dead and could not answer. But it wasn’t comforting. This made something snap in Mu Qing’s chest.

“You didn’t come to our training session for a while. It’s mean of you, do you know how long I've waited?”

His voice was sharp, steady. He was angry. Feng Xin was a coward. Disappearing like that, for what? Because he was too scared to fight and lose against Mu Qing?

“You’re an asshole, you know that?! Do you know how sad Xie Lian was?” The silence was like oil on a flame. Mu Qing wanted to scream. “We promised him to come to his stupid dinner with this stupid Crimson Rain!”

It’s good that the area is quite abandoned, he can be as loud as he wants without fearing a mortal coming in.

“Gods are not supposed to die! You always talk about how I left back in Xianle but truly you’re the one who abandoned me!” His voice broke.

There, that was the heart of the matter. Feng Xin had no right to leave. Or maybe he did, wasn’t he free to move his body however he wanted? But death was a different matter. For a second, Mu Qing considered leaving. He shouldn’t have come anyway. But he doesn’t, instead he tries to honour their time together as best as he can, by doing what they tried to do before Feng Xin’s death: express their emotions.

“I- I apologise.” He turns his gaze away from the figure and settles on the dirt on the ground instead. “Honnestly, you didn’t miss much during that dinner. Xie Lian cooked so.. Yeah and, as usual, Crimson Rain loved the food.”

Maybe he should come back later with something to clean. Not a broom though. He wouldn’t give Feng Xin that honour.

“Back then, I didn’t really know what to do with you and now that you’ve left, I realised I don’t know what to do without you either.”

He sat on the altar back facing the statue, the blind eyes of the god too heavy to face. It was hard to talk, even if deep down he knew Feng Xin couldn’t hear him. The weight that has been inhabiting his chest for years now was slowly making its way in his throat.

“But you know,” he swallowed, he was choosing his words carefully, one missteps and he felt he would break, “maybe it was.. Easier to navigate things with you by my side.”

His eyes fall on his sleeves. Funnily enough he’s always wore red when dressing as Fu Yao as a means to truly disguise himself. His disguise never worked and now the color just reminds him of Feng Xin and their time together.

“Some people in the Heavenly Capital congratulate me for finally doing it. They say I’ve finally beat General Nan Yang. They say it’s what I’ve always wanted.”

This temple was a blessing and a curse: as glad as he is for the statue, it’s probably for the better that the artist is long dead. If the statue was uglier, further from Feng Xin’s true appearance, maybe Mu Qing wouldn't have felt so exposed under the blind gaze.

“ At some point it was what I wanted, but it’s been a while since I last punched you without knowing you could take it.” A broken laugh escaped him. “I guess it’s been a while since I last punched you anyway.”

For a while all that could be heard was the wind outside and Mu Qing’s trembling breath. It took him an incredible amount of strength to will the next words to come out of his mouth.

“I guess I just- I think I miss you.” Oh. there it was, the weight was done ascending his throat and was now sitting in his jaw, the knot heavy in his cheeks. “And if I miss you it means you’re really gone and you’re not coming back.”

It felt like someone had opened a dam in his chest and suddenly every tear he kept for himself came flooding his face. The weight he used to feel was now everywhere and nowhere, being his eyes, in his stomach but also in the air painfully coming to his lungs. Despite that, he kept talking, sentences interspersed with sobs and wet hiccups.

“I don’t know- it doesn’t make sense, how to rule the south without you. You- Your deputies, instead of glaring at me, they call me general. I know what to do- but also I don't… Everything I see- anything I hear- it reminds me of how I lost you.” His breathing was ragged but he kept going, he needed to get the words out of his chest. “It’s like- I just feel like,.. My chest, it’s just a huge hole that you dig yourself and- and you didn’t even care enough to come and fill it!”

Every thought and feeling he kept locked inside were now coming out freely.

“Your comments were always dumb, but surprisingly they sometimes managed to clear my mind. It’s-” He was cut by his own sobs, too out of breath to keep going.

The moon was high in the sky when the tears finally stopped, and as he came back to his senses, Mu Qing noticed his head was now resting on the statue’s calf. He didn’t move, the solid shape was grounding. Moved by a sudden will, he grabbed an incense stick and used his martial powers to light it. The smell was strong, it reminded him of Feng Xin: overpowering, earthy and comforting.

“I would have ruled the South with you for eight hundred more years, you know? I would have done anything until the world ended as long as I was with you. All I needed was for you to be near me.”

Mu Qing wished there was a way for Feng Xin to hear him. He wished the leg being his head was muscular and warm instead of cold and hard. He wished mortals still came to worship General Nan Yang.

He wished so much, and yet nothing came true, and his confession stayed a secret whispered in an empty room.

[unfinishedsentences]

[About a week ago, I wrote about Feng Xin after Mu Qing's death. Now, let me introduce you to Mu Qing, after Feng Xin's death, who is trying to pick up pieces of himself he never thought he would lose.]

---

When Feng Xin died, the Heavenly Capital could be divided in two categories: those heartbroken by the loss of a fellow colleague, and the one congratulating Xuan Zhen.

For a long while, Mu Qing didn’t know which group he belonged to. 

He couldn’t be part of the first group. Him? Heartbroken over Feng Xin? Hell no. Although he couldn’t say he was genuinely unaffected: his heart sank when Xie Lian’s gaze would turn distant while remembering memories with his old friend. Plus he did feel a sort of loss at the empty space on his right side. Sometimes he would catch himself raising his hand to contact Feng XIn through the Array before remembering it wasn’t possible anymore

But he didn’t feel like he belonged in the second group either. Even if he barely reacted after the initial shock, he just took Nan Yang deputies in and kept living his life. He felt it was pointless to cry for the late General anyway. Yet, he didn’t feel like celebrating the death like so many people thought he would. He still lost a great coworker.

Maybe he belonged in no group, as he always has. He’s been a loner all his life.

No that wasn’t true, he wasn’t a loner when he had Feng Xin’s attention on him.

It was a shame that the only person that came close to knowing him had to leave. But still, he wasn’t heartbroken, or not in the same way the Nan Yang deputies were, exhausted with red puffy eyes. He was just surprised, it wasn’t common for a god to die. He just needed to get used to it. 

That’s what Mu Qing told himself as days passed. 

But weeks turned into months and months into years and soon, some mortals started turning to him for their prayer. He felt the merit and his own powers grew, he saw the changes in the south; people were getting mad at Nan Yang for his inaction and leaving. Mu Qing wanted to scream to them it was pointless anger, that Nan Yang wasn’t mean, he was dead. But he didn’t, it wasn’t his place, instead he kept looking from afar. Maybe he was still not used to it.

As a god with a pretty much eternal life, time seems different, it felt like he barely looked away and mortals were already turning Nan Yang temple into Xuan Zhen ones. Mu Qing should have been ecstatic at the sudden increase in his martial powers, but surprisingly he wasn’t. It all happened too soon, how long has it been, barely 5 years? He sensed the need to destroy this temple but he couldn’t do so without damaging his reputation. Plus, deep down he understood, during the last five years, Xuan Zhen has been the one to answer prayer (or his deputies, if credit had to be given) so it made sense for those mortals to turn to him.

And yet he couldn’t accept it. He couldn’t accept that they would forget Nan yang so easily after eight hundred years of hard work.

But all he could do was watch as new merit and prayers came. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●

It took 50 years.

50 years before General Xuan Zhen commonly became the Martial God of the South.

50 years before every single Nan Yang Temple got replaced.

Or they thought so. There was one last temple. 

Back a few hundred years ago there used to be a town where they worshipped Nan Yang. Those people preferred to live by themselves deep in the first until one day, a beat attacked them. General Nan Yang killed it, of course, but after, the inhabitants chose to leave and settle elsewhere. The temple stayed and at first some people came to maintain its state, but eventually they stopped and the temple was lost to time.

Mu Qing couldn’t really explain why he chose to visit it but he did. He took his Fu Yao appearance in case he met some mortal and travelled to this forest.

Finding the temple proved to be quite the tough task: nature reasserted itself and no path was visible anymore. It was getting really dark and he thought about abandoning it when he saw it, a glimpse of a roof.

The temple looked just as you’d expect after many centuries without any care for it: there used to be a path but it has been long since covered in grass and moss, the walls were dark and rotten and a part of the roof had fallen. It was quite a pitiful sight for a once remarkable god.

He carefully made his way to the doors. He had to force them open, swollen by the humidity, but when they finally gave in, the sight he was met with was no better than the exterior. 

Some light came in from the broken roof and Mu Qing could see some remains of paint and gold on the wall. He could make out the shape of some offerings atop the altar. Behind, a huge greyish cloth was covering the statue of General Nan Yang. Mu Qing went straight for it, floor creaking under his feet.

The altar was even more miserable from afar, spider, broken porcelain and even something that must have been fruits. He even saw some incense sticks but truth be told , they were surely useless now.

His attention went back to the statue. Without a second thought, he grabbed the cloth and yanked it away.

Saying he didn't expect this sight would be an understatement. Feng Xin was never known for caring about how his followers depicted him, Mu Qing used to tease him about it endlessly. But this statue here? It was carved into a stone block and some elements were quite roughly sculpted: his bun was barely shaped, his ribbon lost in his hair and Mu Qing wasn’t really sure where the clothes ended and when the skin started. And yet, the statue was standing confidently, bow in hand, eyes fixed on an invisible point far away. His jaw was strong and sharp and his soulless gaze was carrying the same energy as in Mu Qing’s memories.

It wasn’t perfect but it looked like him just enough to hold the illusion. 

Mu Qing didn’t really mean to start talking, he couldn’t really explain what possessed him. Maybe it was the fact that he was alone in the middle of a forest or just the result of finally seeing the face he longed to find. In any case, at this moment it felt natural to speak.

“Hi Feng Xin.”

Of course he was met with silence, which should have been reassuring considering Feng Xin was dead and could not answer. But it wasn’t comforting. This made something snap in Mu Qing’s chest.

“You didn’t come to our training session for a while. It’s mean of you, do you know how long I've waited?”

His voice was sharp, steady. He was angry. Feng Xin was a coward. Disappearing like that, for what? Because he was too scared to fight and lose against Mu Qing?

“You’re an asshole, you know that?! Do you know how sad Xie Lian was?” The silence was like oil on a flame. Mu Qing wanted to scream. “We promised him to come to his stupid dinner with this stupid Crimson Rain!”

It’s good that the area is quite abandoned, he can be as loud as he wants without fearing a mortal coming in.

“Gods are not supposed to die! You always talk about how I left back in Xianle but truly you’re the one who abandoned me!” His voice broke.

There, that was the heart of the matter. Feng Xin had no right to leave. Or maybe he did, wasn’t he free to move his body however he wanted? But death was a different matter. For a second, Mu Qing considered leaving. He shouldn’t have come anyway. But he doesn’t, instead he tries to honour their time together as best as he can, by doing what they tried to do before Feng Xin’s death: express their emotions.

“I- I apologise.” He turns his gaze away from the figure and settles on the dirt on the ground instead. “Honnestly, you didn’t miss much during that dinner. Xie Lian cooked so.. Yeah and, as usual, Crimson Rain loved the food.”

Maybe he should come back later with something to clean. Not a broom though. He wouldn’t give Feng Xin that honour.

“Back then, I didn’t really know what to do with you and now that you’ve left, I realised I don’t know what to do without you either.”

He sat on the altar back facing the statue, the blind eyes of the god too heavy to face. It was hard to talk, even if deep down he knew Feng Xin couldn’t hear him. The weight that has been inhabiting his chest for years now was slowly making its way in his throat.

“But you know,” he swallowed, he was choosing his words carefully, one missteps and he felt he would break, “maybe it was.. Easier to navigate things with you by my side.”

His eyes fall on his sleeves. Funnily enough he’s always wore red when dressing as Fu Yao as a means to truly disguise himself. His disguise never worked and now the color just reminds him of Feng Xin and their time together.

“Some people in the Heavenly Capital congratulate me for finally doing it. They say I’ve finally beat General Nan Yang. They say it’s what I’ve always wanted.”

This temple was a blessing and a curse: as glad as he is for the statue, it’s probably for the better that the artist is long dead. If the statue was uglier, further from Feng Xin’s true appearance, maybe Mu Qing wouldn't have felt so exposed under the blind gaze.

“ At some point it was what I wanted, but it’s been a while since I last punched you without knowing you could take it.” A broken laugh escaped him. “I guess it’s been a while since I last punched you anyway.”

For a while all that could be heard was the wind outside and Mu Qing’s trembling breath. It took him an incredible amount of strength to will the next words to come out of his mouth.

“I guess I just- I think I miss you.” Oh. there it was, the weight was done ascending his throat and was now sitting in his jaw, the knot heavy in his cheeks. “And if I miss you it means you’re really gone and you’re not coming back.”

It felt like someone had opened a dam in his chest and suddenly every tear he kept for himself came flooding his face. The weight he used to feel was now everywhere and nowhere, being his eyes, in his stomach but also in the air painfully coming to his lungs. Despite that, he kept talking, sentences interspersed with sobs and wet hiccups.

“I don’t know- it doesn’t make sense, how to rule the south without you. You- Your deputies, instead of glaring at me, they call me general. I know what to do- but also I don't… Everything I see- anything I hear- it reminds me of how I lost you.” His breathing was ragged but he kept going, he needed to get the words out of his chest. “It’s like- I just feel like,.. My chest, it’s just a huge hole that you dig yourself and- and you didn’t even care enough to come and fill it!”

Every thought and feeling he kept locked inside were now coming out freely.

“Your comments were always dumb, but surprisingly they sometimes managed to clear my mind. It’s-” He was cut by his own sobs, too out of breath to keep going.

The moon was high in the sky when the tears finally stopped, and as he came back to his senses, Mu Qing noticed his head was now resting on the statue’s calf. He didn’t move, the solid shape was grounding. Moved by a sudden will, he grabbed an incense stick and used his martial powers to light it. The smell was strong, it reminded him of Feng Xin: overpowering, earthy and comforting.

“I would have ruled the South with you for eight hundred more years, you know? I would have done anything until the world ended as long as I was with you. All I needed was for you to be near me.”

Mu Qing wished there was a way for Feng Xin to hear him. He wished the leg being his head was muscular and warm instead of cold and hard. He wished mortals still came to worship General Nan Yang.

He wished so much, and yet nothing came true, and his confession stayed a secret whispered in an empty room.

[unfinishedsentences]

[It takes Feng Xin, Mu Qing, a stupid argument and some event dumber fights.. but they work things out eventually]

The sun was shining on Taicang Mountain as Mu Qing and Feng Xin made their way to the training ground.

It all started yesterday. They broke into yet another petty argument, none of them could really explain what led to it this time, probably a snarky remark from Feng Xin or a pointy comment from Mu Qing. Something quite common for them, but this time they decided to settle that on the training ground.

Today, His highness was spending the afternoon with Guoshi so it was the perfect time for his attendant to both leave.

Which let them, here. At that hour, there was no one training, except for a few people practicing their sword moves alone. They settled down and prepared themselves.

"So," Feng Xin starts, his eyes on his bow as he's stringing it, "how should we do that?"

Mu Qing rolled his eyes while fixing his pony tail. "Why are you asking me? It was your idea to do that, I would have gladly kicked you ass yesterday."

"Sorry for asking your opinion, asshole."

"We both know you have no care for my opinion."

They glare at each other. Now both ready, they're facing each other, weapon in hand. They chose to use their weapon of choice; it may be hard to fight saber against bow, but at last they'd both be at their strongest.

"Alright, we fight. Three matches." Feng Xin started carefully, his hand on his quiver while he checked once again that he has all his arrows: he can't have missing arrows as his reason to lose. "Whoever wins more is the winner. End of the story."

Mu Qing takes his time before answering, eyes on his saber. "What does the winner get?"

"What?"

Mu Qing sighs, "If there's a winner, then there's a price. What is it?" Feng Xin is a bit taken aback, he truly hadn't thought about that. His rival seems impatient to fight. "So?"

"A.. gift?" Mu QIng is unimpressed. "The loser has to give a gift to the winner." He raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced so Feng Xin explains. "Something meaningful, not a congratulatory punch or whatever."

Mu Qing shrugs. "Ok, whatever. Let's do that"

They start shortly after. They are both skilled fighters who know each other inside out. Each attack is met by an equally strong answer, each dodge by another feint. Their fights are quite unusual, every trick and hit allowed as long as it grants them victory.

Eventually Feng Xin managed to stick Mu Qing's saber under his arm and use his adversary's own strength to make him fall to the ground and disarm him.

"Do you surrender?" Feng Xin asked out of breath.

In lieu of answer, Mu Qing kicks his leg to bring him down before standing up. He grabs his weapon and gets into a fighting position.

"Don't look so smug, you haven't won. Rematch."

The second match is shorter. Using a feint, Mu Qing manages to pass being his adversary and, with a blow being his knees, makes him kneel. After that, it's easy for him to disarm Feng Xin.

One point for each, the last match will be decisive.

This time, Mu Qing once again found a way to bring Feng Xin to the ground and disarm him, but this time Feng Xin takes his last defense dagger out. He uses the effect of surprise to turn the fight to his advantage. He brings Mu Qing to the ground while kicking his saber away and tackles him under his weight.

He won.

"That's not fair!" Mu Qing screams once he's back on his feets. "You were supposed to fight using your bow, not some dagger you took out of your ass!"

Feng Xin snorts as he answers. "Don't be a sore loser, we've always been using dirty tricks together, it only bothers you because you lost."

"Sore loser? Dirty tricks? You have to be joking!" He furiously grabs his saber. "That wasn't in the rules of our fights, you cheated!"

"Whatever you say, I still won." Feng Xin smirks. "I'll be waiting for my gift."

After that he walks away to retrieve his arrows scattered around the training ground. While the rare persons still there left, they were now all alone. When he walks back, Mu Qing is still fuming in the same spot, gaze fixed on the ground.

As he passes next to him, he's sure he hears him talking. "You want a meaningful gift asshole?"

The next thing he registered is a hand on his neck, stopping him in his tracks and turning him around before lips crashed on his own.

Mu Qing likes to say Feng Xin is stupid but here it doesn't take him long to take the hint and return the kiss.

(After that Mu Qing acts like nothing happens. It takes Feng XIn kissing him again three days later for him to finally recognise the event.)

[unfinishedsentences]

[My take on Mu Qing and Feng Xin's friendship; take place after the event of the book ofc]

Most friendships are built on things in common, on the happiness they bring to each other. Most friendship are like that.

Not all. Theirs isn't.

Maybe it could have been the case eight hundred years ago if Mu Qing and Feng Xin had talked. But they haven't, instead they chose to scream and fight. They let self-hatred and guilt drive their own action.

During eight hundred years they learn where to strike to hurt the most, crawling under skins to bring the worst out of each other, yelling and criticizing in hope to ease their own regrets.

They weren't friends but in the end they knew the other so well that it was troubling. Maybe that's why some weren't surprised when they first tried to act civilly together.

Some people in the Heavenly Court believed that their relationship was meant to be, that after knowing someone for so long you had to get along.

Both Mu Qing and Feng Xin strongly disagreed. Nothing between them was meant to be. Everything was due to their own action and inaction. It felt too easy to say they were fated to one day put their differences aside.

In fact, it took them many decades to find their pace together and a few more to truly become friends. There was so much guilt and regrets built between them, so many habits to break, and it took a while to stop purposely hurting each other.

Their friendship wasn't built on things in common, not because they don't have any, but because too much happened in eight hundred years. Things in common mean nothing when your rival knows how to use everything against you in the vilest way and when you can do the same.

No, their friendship was built on forgiveness. Building it required strengths that some may never have: the will to look at someone and confess I hurted you and I hurted you too. I am so sorry and to respond I forgive you.

It wasn't easy, it takes being brave to let someone see you vulnerable, but, after a hundred years, both Mu Qing and Feng Xin would agree that it was worth it.

[unfinishedsentences]

[Post-Canon, Mu Qing dies and Feng Xin has to go through his belonging. Yes today I chose suffering.]

Death isn't pretty, no matter how beautiful the victim is. Feng Xin learned that the hard way the day Mu Qing died.

-

"I'm glad it's you," his breathing was laboured, he had to stop every few words and Feng Xin could see how each gulp of air was more painful than the last. "I'm glad because I can't trust anyone but you to see me like that."

“I had so much, so much,” Feng Xin wanted to tell him to stop talking, he wanted to tell him to keep his strength, to not use it in something as futile as talking. But no words left his mouth, even he could feel his breath hitch. “I had so much to tell you.”

"I wish we had more time."

-

After Mu Qing's death, a lot changed. More prayers, more deputies, more responsibilities, more work... But somehow all of these are minor changes for Feng Xin.

What truly makes him sick to the stomach is the silence. He walks in the Heavenly Capital and no one screams after him, no one trains with him every week, no one stands near him during meetings. One day he even tried to contact him through the Communication Array, needless to say it was fruitless.

As they say, you only know what you have when you lose it.

He's not surprised when Ling Wen asks him to sort through Mu Qing belongings. He didn't had many friends after all, and since he also took in his palace Mu Qing's deputies, it seems only normal for them to do this task.

It doesn't mean it's an easy task.

As Feng Xin's standing in his rival's bedchamber, he has to fight the will to vomit. Nothing has changed but everything's different.

His weapon no longer harbours his spiritual energy, the ink on his desk has dried... Even his bed, despite still smelling like him, a new layer of dust has settled on the blanket.

It's odd being in a space where it feels like Mu Qing could furiously enter the room at any moment while seeing proof he should have arrived days ago.

He feels defeated, he feels angry.

Eventually he tries opening the drawer on his bedside table and finds two things: a letter folded in half and a neatly wrapped package.

It seems to be something private and precious, maybe he should leave it alone, let Mu Qing have his secret even in death. Unfortunately no one is here to stop him so Feng Xin grabs the letter.

The first realisation is that it's not a letter. It's a draft at most, maybe a draft for a speech, covered in crossed-out sentences and ink puddles.

The second one is that it's written for Feng Xin. It seems like Mu Qing was looking for ways to speak his mind to him.

Feng Xin,

We've known each other for 820 years now, we haven't tried to kill each other lately we've been somewhat civil to each other for about 5 and I like you even number so I felt like it would be nice to celebrate it a bit.

Today is your birthday. I know we haven't given presents to each other since we were mortal but I believe it's what friends should do. I want to be your friend Don't worry, I'm not expecting you to give me anything for my birthday, it was just important for me to give it to you. Sorry I was too much of a coward to give it to you last year

I love sparring with you

There's a place I'd like to show you in the Southwest

Happy birthday

Feng Xin would nearly laugh if he didn't feel like crying already. If he's honest, he thought about getting a birthday gift for Mu Qing, but he too had been a coward. He was afraid he would somehow find a way to take it wrongly.

He grabbed the package. Technically it's not his birthday, but technically Mu Qing wasn't supposed to die before giving it to him, so maybe it's only fair to open it today, right?

It's neatly wrapped and quite light and small, it fits easily in Feng Xin's hand. He carefully opened it, trying to not tear the wrapping: it's also a part of Mu Qing, he can't destroy it.

In his hand is a long yellow band of silk. It takes him a second to understand what it is. It's a ribbon, a hair ribbon. More precisely, it looks like the one that broke during a fight years ago. But it had been mended, a silver thread was piercing both parts together. Mu Qing had also added some silver embroidery to compliment the golden ones already there.

Feng Xin hasn't cried since the day Mu Qing died in his arms. But here, surrounded by his smell and his belongings, Feng Xin felt the first tears fall and soon enough he’s sobbing on the golden and silver ribbon.

He can’t even say he hates Mu Qing.

-

Mu Qing was crying. It was quite a rare sight. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw that.

“I-” Feng Xin carefully removed his hair from his eyes, when he looked at them, he could see fear, pain and something else, something warm and tender.  His voice was barely above a whisper now. “I always thought you looked amazing while shooting arrows, even when-” His next words are cut off as he coughs more blood.

“Hi, don’t talk,” his voice sounded weak and broken and Feng Xin wanted to laugh. In his last moment, that’s what he chose to say. “You’re also amazing with your saber. You always are, no matter what you’re doing.” He carefully brings his hand to his face and lets his thump stroke his cheek in a gesture that he hopes is reassuring. “Now, don’t say anything anymore Mu Qing.”

Obviously, he’s too stubborn to listen, even as his voice grows weaker, he continues talking.

“Even when we were mortals I-” he’s coughing more blood, his face contorted in pain. Yet the next moment their eyes meet, that tender feeling is back. “I always liked you a lot.”

[unfinishedsentences]

Mu Qing: I hate to say ‘I told you so’—

Feng Xin, *interrupting*: No, you don’t. You would marry 'I told you so’ and have a baby with it and buy adjoining burial plots

Xie Lian: ...

[unfinishedsentences]

Habits die hard, especially when they're built on resentment and defensive behaviour.

That's why it's not surprising for Feng Xin and Mu Qing to bicker as much as they do. If you asked them why they fight, they'd both give you a complete and thorough explanation of exactly how much of a moron the other is (with precise exemples to complete the reasoning if you let them talk).

But in truth, most of their points are hundreds of years old. Their bodies have just become accustomed to reacting a certain way when they hear the other. And they never tried to question if there was any other way for them to act.

Habits die hard but habits are comforting, especially after 800 years. Somehow they bring a sense of familiarity and belonging.

So it's not surprising that, even under disguise, they start fighting. Or maybe it is; truly, their cover would have worked better had they stayed civil to each other. But they haven't, how could they have after recognizing each other at first glance (stupid hair, stupid name).

Beside the names, their fight as Fu Yao and Nan Feng weren't different from the ones as their true self, it was mean, aimed to hurt as always. What actually changed was the rest.

When fighting Mu Qing, Feng Xin felt his anger in his hands, in his shoulder, his stomach, his throat or even his nose (but that was just an unconscious memory of the few times it was broken by his rival). But when he heard Fu Yao laugh at Xie Lian antics, it wasn't the same feeling. It was a warmth rooted in his chest and growing in his throat, building up until his fingertips felt like twitching.

And Fu Yao was pretty, Mu Qing would never allow himself to look anything beside perfect after all, but they were really different. While the latter would always act as a snowstorm, cold, dangerous and blinding, Fu Yao did the opposite. He would lean toward Xie Lian when fakely whispering embarrassing stories about General Nan Yang and would take that self-satisfied smile whenever Nan Feng raised to the bait. Which did happen frequently, for obvious unnamed reasons.

It was driving him crazy. So maybe Feng Xin should have seen it coming. But he hasn't.

One day, when he was yet again bickering with Fu Yao, he nearly froze when a traitorous I wouldn't mind kissing that pout off his lips crossed his mind (he punched him hard, embarrassed by his own brain). Even some time later, when he saw Mu Qing sitting near a pond, expression so peaceful as he watched the carps leisurely swimming, a firm part of Feng Xin wanted to sit next to him and rest his head on his shoulder (he ran away to his palace before doing anything stupid).

Sometimes, Feng Xin wonders if they'll ever find a way to accept each other's presence. He wonders if Mu Qing ever thought of them kindly greeting each other in the morning instead of fighting.

Only time would bring him those answers and, to be honest, right now he may have to focus on the Ghost King Xie Lian decided to befriend.

[unfinishedsentences]

After Mu Qing confessed how he always wanted to be friends, things got a little bit awkward. But not bad awkward, just weird awkward.

He can see how they're both trying hard to put up with Mu QIng. Xie Lian would chose his words carefully and state the obvious so he wouldn't be misunderstood while Feng Xin would try to not always be offended by what Mu Qing says (it doesn't always work, after all Mu Qing is really used to having a vicious tongue).

Mu Qing makes an effort too, take this: a few days ago, while they were doing their "weekly friendly tea" (a new habit they started), he calmly asked Feng Xin to stop shaking his leg instead of punching him right away. He even explained nicely how he finds the vibrations and noises annoying!

But there is something even weirder.

Ruoye.

Xie Lian's surprising silk band. It was rather... affectionate toward Mu Qing.

It started right after he sewed it back together. He brought it back to its rightful owner and everything was as normal as you'd expect them.

But about a week later, as Feng Xin and Mu Qing went back to Puqi Shrine (Xie Lian had begged them "Please come and visit, i'll prepare a nice meal!", and they both ran out of excuses), it changed. As soon as the door opened, Mu Qing felt a force grip his waist. He's pretty sure the less dignified sound ever escaped his mouth at that moment and he's glad his new friend never brought it up. For a second, he truly thought a monster had attacked him, it was so quick he didn't even have time to react.

Upon reaching his side, Xie Lian has profusely apologised and told Ruoye how impolite it was to treat guests that way. Thankfully, Mu Qing was more surprised than hurt.

But ever since that day, it never stopped.

Whether they were in the Mortal Realm or the Heavenly Capital, if Xie Lian and Mu Qing were in the same room, you can be sure Ruoye was flying around him. Nuzzling his hair, slipping between his ankles, nestled in his neck, once he even found it under his outer robe! Even when they were just walking around, Ruoye would try to attract his attention.

Mu Qing explained how Ruoye had no need to thank him this much but it changed nothing.

In the end, weeks passed and Mu Qing grew quite used to it. Expecting the new touches when he spotted Xie Lian nearby and petting kindly on its head (does it even have a head? When asked, Xie Lian just shrugged and gave one of his awkward smiles) when it was disturbing Mu Qing's work too much.

Without realising it, he even grew used to more new touches. It got easier to not freeze when Xie Lian hugged him goodbye. He even started reciprocating (much to Hua Cheng's irritation, but Mu Qing always has a crude gesture to show him in Xie Lian's back). And the same thing happened with Feng Xin, he no longer backs away when his friend (!!!) nudges him to show him something funny.

So yeah, Mu Qing enjoys his three friends' company (that includes Ruoye, not the Ghost King, thank you very much).

[unfinishedsentences]

After Xie Lian's first banishment, after Mu Qing tried to help them and was pushed away, he was lost.

His mother has died, the last person he cared about in the Mortal Realm made sure he understood he wasn't welcome. He doesn't know what to do.

He walks through the Heavenly Capital, does his work consciously, ignores the giggles when he passes by. He keeps a cool demeanor but the truth is that, deep down, it hurts. It hurts and sometimes he wishes no one took him as a deputy. He wishes he stayed in the mortal realm. But who is he kidding, it wouldn't have changes anything.

He just wishes he hadn't grown so used to Xie Lian and Feng Xin's presence, so he wouldn't long to find the recognition they had for him in anyone's eyes. He just wants to be able to live like he did before he met them but he can't. He got a taste of heaven, of course mortal ways seem dull. Loneliness is easier to accept when you don't know what camaraderie is.

No one would get him to confess this but he did cry a few times, where nobody could have seen or hear it.

He doesn't know what to do so he lives. He lives so someone can remember the Crown Prince of Xianle and his bodyguard. He lives, it's hard but he gets used to it. He eventually grows accustomed to the mean comments and manage to tone them so they're just a buzzing in the back of his mind. It's not the grand life his mother hoped for him but that's what he has, he knows to be grateful for it.

Eventually, one day, he ascends. Mu Qing considers it a nice change, maybe people won't see him as a servant anymore, and if they doesn't, he'll find a way.

Soon after, someone new ascends as well, Xuan Zhen doesn't care. Mu Qing would have done the same if that person hadn't come to grab his robes and, in lieu of presentation, punched him in the face.

Mu Qing isn't desperate enough to say he was longing to be punched like that again, but the fact that he recognized Feng Xin right away says a lot.

He fights back because what else should he do?

After that, they always find a way to fight. They hurt each other constantly with words and weapons alike. Mu Qing hates him, and wishes Nan Yang never ascended in the first place.

But when he sees Feng Xin from afar, talking with his deputy, he's glad for the familiar face.

And, yes, he will hit that familiar face later today, but he will do so under a sun that hasn't been this bright in a long time.

[unfinishedsentences]

The thing is simple, in the Royal Pavilion, everyone wants Mu Qing gone. He knows it like he knows his mother's name.

He knows everyone's waiting for him to make a mistake that would get him expelled. But he also knows he won't give them this honour.

So he works diligently, ignores the odd looks and comments and bites his tongue to not make any snide retort.

He does a great job at that, even after he starts working for His Highness and has to tolerate Feng Xin's behaviour.

Until one afternoon he doesn't.

Mu Qing isn't sure why this exact remark made him snap but it did and now, surely he screwed everything. Surely Feng Xin's gonna find a way to get him expelled, he has a story about how disrespectful Mu Qing is.

Except he doesn't, and that evening he goes to help Xie Lian as always. Feng Xin makes comments but that's nothing out of the ordinary. No sign that Mu Qing's going to be dismiss.

He waits a couple of days and nothing changes. Everyone still looks at him and observes his every move, people still make tactless comments as if he couldn't hear.

Maybe Feng Xin had truly said nothing.

So the next time Feng Xin makes a snarky comment, Mu Qing retorts. After that, they get into many fights whether with words, fists or weapons. And despite all of that, Mu Qing is never dismissed.

It makes Mu Qing realise how great it feels to give someone a piece of your opinion. He thinks he could get addicted to the feeling of screaming his anger to Feng Xin's face.

For the first time in his life, there's someone around who he doesn't have to hide his opinion from, around who he can be mean, angry, loud, bitter, aggressive and honest. Mostly honest.

It feels great.