xxkitae

[xxkitae]

Kitae leaned against the brick wall, steam from the kitchen rising from the grates and fogging his vision. Kitae was still in his dishwasher uniform, having just gotten off his shift. His eyes were glued to his phone, a half-smoked cigarette dangling forgotten between his lips, the ashes falling and burning a small hole through his cheap tank top.

It was half past seven, and Seonmin was supposed to meet him 15 minutes ago so they could see Hana together.

He had already called Seonmin three times. No answer.

Kitae’s brows furrowed into a deep frown.

Something’s wrong. Kitae was never the type of man to hesitate for anything. The second that thought crossed his mind, he jumped on his motorbike and sped towards Seonmin’s house.

When he arrived at his destination, his intuition was proven right.

The house was deceptively quiet as Kitae climbed the porch steps in long, tense strides. Kitae’s fist had just hit the door when he heard a loud crash, followed by the muffled wails of an infant.

Fuck it, Kitae’s chest squeezed tightly at the familiar cries. He wrenched the doorknob violently, almost tearing it off its hinges before busting through the door with one hard kick.

What he witnessed froze him in his steps.

“Seonmin!” Kitae shouted, loud and sharp. Kitae didn’t wait for an reaction before he strode forward and grabbed Seonmin’s wrist, demobilizing him. It was quick, the way Seonmin’s wrist gave out in his grip--Seonmin wasn’t like him. He was a scholar, not a fighter.

Kitae realized he was gripping too tight, Seonmin’s hand shaking in Kitae’s. Kitae released Seonmin’s wrist with a start--he just wanted to make Seonmin drop the knife--he didn’t want to hurt his friend. If Kitae had a mirror, he would realize his face was just as pale as Seonmin’s.  

The truth was, Kitae had never seen Seonmin like this. That look in his eyes-- it wasn’t a look he would imagine on his best friend in a million years. For a split second, it was as if Seonmin was a complete stranger.

Kitae knew one thing for certain. He had to get Seonmin out of here. Something here had done this to Seonmin--triggered him. Kitae took in his surroundings--it wasn’t hard to make out the succession of events from the mess in the house. Kitae looked at the man on the floor and gritted his teeth. Him again.

“Grab Dohyun. We’re getting out of here.” Kitae spoke in a soft but firm voice, ushering Seonmin to listen to him. “I’ll take care of him.” So you won’t have to, for once in your life.

Once Seonmin and Dohyun were out the door, Kitae turned toward the man on the floor and punched him in the jaw.  

xxx

It was a blessedly quiet night. The waves crashed against the seawall, sprinkling drops of cool seawater onto their heated summer skin. Kitae sauntered out of the small convenience store and pressed a cooler against Seonmin’s cheek.

“Don’t worry, its non alcoholic.” Kitae cracked his own can open, gulping the fizz. “Drink it. Even if you’re not thirsty. It’ll take your mind off things.”

Thankfully, Dohyun had dozed off sometime along their motorcycle ride. Kitae snorted and ruffled Dohyun’s wispy baby hair affectionately. “He always knows when the best time to sleep is, huh.”

Kitae wanted to ask Seonmin so many questions. What happened back there? What happened to you? I want to know. Tell me everything.

Kitae started with, “You okay?”

through thick and thin.

tw; violence

@xxkitae

What makes a killer?

So much negativity came with that word, yet deep down, rooted within the core of human nature, they were all well capable of murder. It didn’t take a special mind, only a troubled one. 

The child’s wails snapped Seonmin out of his shocked state and sensations came rushing in. The first thing he felt was the pain on his left wrist, where scalding hot seafood porridge had spilled when father knocked the bowl over, demanding for additional booze instead of the homecooked meal he was served. Seonmin argued with him, wishing the man would stop making his life difficult. He had homework to do, exams to study for, and between work and academics he had to take care of this household. The porridge was all that he could manage for the night and while it was hardly anything to be impressed by, it would keep them full. 

Father didn’t care - he could not be reasoned with. When Seonmin gasped from the burn, the man did not soften immediately as he would have just six months ago. Instead he pushed his son, determined to get that second bottle. 

Seonmin pushed back this time. He wasn’t young and weak as he once was, and against a pathetic drunk man his strength proved superior. Father fell, knocking over the book shelf on his way down. Karma sent a vase over his head and since then he had not moved. 

Blood seeped from the spot on father’s forehead where he was hit and Seonmin thought he would feel something. Maybe guilt, perhaps fear, but instead he felt this deep numbness and a strange pull towards the kitchen. 

It’s not enough. Something whispered on his left shoulder. This was years of anger held back, and now too difficult to ignore. 

Seonmin still managed to go to the crying child first and picked him up, forcing himself to smile with unblinking eyes and cooed at his brother to behave. Yes, he had priorities, even in this state of semi-insanity his love for his younger sibling refused to budge. He tucked the kid into bed and sang him a lullaby before leaving the bedroom, locking the door behind him. 

In the living room, father remained on the ground, a heap of fat and misery, too ugly for this world. And to think, Seonmin supposedly took after him…disgusting. 

He raised his left hand and turned it around, examining the angry looking red patch, recalling the sting from the burn and letting it fill his heart with the desire for everything to end. The kitchen knife was sharp, because he kept it that way - such care he always gave to this household and everything within it. From the wooden storage stand, Seonmin retrieved his weapon. His mind was made up, he just hadn’t decided on where to plant his blade. 

[xxkitae]

Kitae was dressed in a loose collared suit, his hair swept back out of his eyes. Not flashy enough to stand out, but Yongwon struck him as a man who valued appearances--or, more accurately, tidiness. It was rare for the Rebel leader to personally scope out a recruit, though this man’s reputation certainly justified this decision. When Jiho brought this man to Kitae’s attention, Kitae was intrigued. It wasn’t everyday that a high ranking officer could desert and live to tell the tale–allegedly. So far, the only other instance Kitae knew of was… himself. And at the time, he could barely be called high-ranking. Never even made it onto the radar, unlike this man.

Kitae observed the man across the table, drinking up every detail. The man was definitely a seasoned warrior–the way he carried himself, taught and alert, ready to slip away at a single hint of foul play. Kitae recognized this stance. He had spent a good portion of his youth in the government too, after all. It was drilled into every single one of them.

Kitae smiled, disarmingly, leaning forward in his chair. Ever since he was a child Kitae had a good eye for people. He read them like a book, but he was never great at socializing. Perhaps it was the chaotic environment in which grew up that pushed him toward a proclivity for violence, but years of circumstance have  forced him to mend the... unproductive habits of his hot blooded youth. When the situation called for it, even a lame man could learn to swim.

“When my deputy told me about you, I knew I had to come down and see for myself. I must say, I am not disappointed. You strike me as a busy man, so I’ll respect your time and get to the point. I want to know more about you.” Kitae’s eyes gleamed with interest. “You’re a local legend around these parts, you know. They talk about the masked vigilante. Almost single-handedly cutting the crime rate by half, striking fear into the hearts of criminals.” Kitae took a sip of his beer.

“What do you fight for, Yongwon? Why do you do what you do? I’ll tell you why we fight. We fight for our freedom. For those whose who can’t fight for themselves. Those whose rights have been unjustly crushed. In that sense, we’re not so different, you and I. Now, since I’ve been honest with you, I request you give me the same courtesy and be honest with me.” He leaned back, and stared Yongwon in the eyes. “What is your power, and why aren’t you using it?”

contemplation.

In his family, emotional attachment was seen as a man’s greatest professional weakness and something they sought to eliminate. Perhaps that was why none of them were particular close, greeting each other with curt nods or tight-lipped smiles - just enough to maintain the acceptable level of amicability in public social setting.

But he was not empty of affection. Love had a way of finding its way into the coldest hearts, and growing wild and abundant like unwanted weeds. 

Is this treason? He asked himself as he slid silently into the chair opposite the rebellion leader’s. Some would say yes, while others would answer no. The world had become a hopelessly confusing swirl of grey, when he was a man who preferred simple black and white. 

Why did he sit down? After all, he did not actually care for a beer as the man offered. 

Staring down into his iced water, Youngwon allowed his thoughts to drift to the past. He didn’t need people, and could count the ones he genuinely cared about on one hand. The Rebellion leader (@xxkitae) carried some resemblance to one of them - someone who died a long time ago and Youngwon only acknowledged was his best friend after attending the funeral. 

When Liran was still alive, Youngwon had not been kind enough, and thus whenever the other visited in his dreams or guilt-induced visions, he did his best to accommodate every request. Perhaps when he agreed to a beer earlier - he was stuck in that mode. 

“Why are we really here?” Youngwon prompted, bidding the other to be straightforward. His voice was colder than usual, because he didn’t want this man to think his agreement to sit down with him meant he was willing to join an organization that he actively fought against once. His feelings were complicated towards the government, yes, but that did not mean he intended to walk in the opposite direction. 

[xxkitae]

Guys in glasses are my weakness🤓

[xxkitae]

Blue Phoenix

Xinfeng was amazed with terror and awe.

What terrible force must the gem wield, to split the earth and paint the skies red? Xinfeng was merely grazed by its presence, yet already he felt its tremendous power.

Suddenly the gem broke, the shards permanently etched into his memories as they scattered across the sky. The ominous red light disappeared with its source, but the mountain continued to shake-- more violently than before, unstable with damage. Trees toppled into the earth--the ground was coming undone.

Suddenly, a faint blue glow emitted from the distance. A figure approached, partially obstructed by an otherworldly fog. Finally she came into view: a goddess-like figure, sword in hand, chanting something of foreign tongue as she plunged her weapon into the earth. Although Xinfeng understood nothing of what she said, it washed over him like a soothing lullaby.

She was beautiful.

The earthquake ceased as the fog cleared. All that remained in the aftermath was a great sword, deeply impaled in the ground with the following inscription--blue phoenix.

For a moment Xinfeng was compelled to touch the magnificent object--to feel its magic against his fingertips. Xinfeng shook himself out of his spell and honed in on his surroundings--people were injured, heavily. Xinfeng attempted to rise, but stumbled upon ascension.

His white robes were soaked with fresh blood. Adrenaline had numbed him to pain--His right calf had been impaled by a heavy splinter.

[xxkitae]

Zhiyangxx:

(...)

        “perhaps i’m mistaken.”  his head tilts in the direction of the tree branch to indicate the pigeon in deep slumber.  

        the group slows to a stop.  a-ling, who has faithfully taken zhiyang’s other side, narrows his eyes before confirming that it is, in fact, the bird they’ve been searching for.

        “how peculiar,”  he muses,  “to call a creature so brilliantly blue, bai.”

        unbeknownst to him, he’s made a fatal error.  it was common knowledge that his twin was colorblind – a detail that even he, himself, would gloss over from time to time.

Of-course, Xinfeng noticed the young Jin’s gloomy gaze; twenty-seven years of living by the skin of his teeth earned him a sharp eye to details. It skimmed the corner of his sight, now burning onto his back. Xinfeng ensured to greet the young disciple with extra sweetness in his smile. 

Xinfeng’s eyes inadvertently widened at Zhiyang’s comment of the bird’s appearance--of its color. “...indeed,” he breathed, a million implications flitting through his mind. “It is quite a beautiful creature.”

The thing was curled up, the disciples astir, trying to contain their cautious excitement at the discovery. What visibility concealed by its small size was made up by its vivid blue shade peeking through the Forrest canopy.

“It is difficult to imagine such a small creature possessing immense power. Out here alone, unguarded and unprotected...” Xinfeng remarked, facing the bird as if enraptured but conscious to keep Zhiyang in the corner of his sight. The Lan head disciples attempted to stir the creature but it heeded none of their efforts, remaining in peaceful slumber. Xinfeng tilted up towards Zhiyang and whispered,

“Do you recall, the information exchanged at the tea-house? ‘Once there was a cultivation family of Bai surname, who became worshiped as local deities for their good deeds... If one were in trouble, one should call out to the Bais and evoke their aid’.” Xinfeng paused. “Do you believe, perhaps, this creature could be connected to the Bais? Perhaps we should attempt to stir it with the mention of their name...” 

Intuition

[xxkitae]

Intuition

The trek was long and the entourage sizeable. Despite the fact that he was near the back of the group, and the other up front, Xinfeng’s eyes repeatedly strayed to a certain man’s back.

Ever since their tea-house encounter, Xinfeng could not shake the tiny, lingering itch from the back of his mind. The look in Zhiyang’s eyes planted a seed of doubt within Xinfeng which refused to be unearthed. Xinfeng always believed himself to be intuitive, and the sense of familiarity triggered alarm bells inside his head, especially considering how well he knew him after the many years they’d spent together--or, more accurately, the many years Xinfeng spent under his servitude. There was little harm in following this intuition with some subtle investigation, Xinfeng eventually decided. Xinfeng gingerly picked up the hems of his robs and advanced, ensuring to bow and smile to the other Jin disciples on his way. Finally, he reached his destination.

His eyes strayed to Jin Zhiyang until their gazes met. My, how differently he looked, clothed in white as opposed to swathed in his usual gold.

“Master Jin,” Xinfeng gave a small bow in courtesy, gaze lowered as a sign of respect and submission--the same greeting he always gave him in the past. “I hope my presence is not too bothersome, if I may be so bold to join you.” Xinfeng smiled. “A spirit guardian, whom takes the form of a blue bird, awakened by its name, or so the rumors say... Do you believe we will find it here?”

@zhiyangxx

[xxkitae]

The Long Climb

The boy was clearly injured, the extent startling so. He appeared overall disheveled, but the worst of it seemed centered in his legs. Every step appeared to take toil--it was clear he could no longer walk unassisted.

Even without his Sect’s signature dark crimson robes, Xinfeng recognized him. He was of the Wei Sect. Wei Xiaoyu, Xinfeng recalled silently. Xinfeng had long memorized every disciple by name--even if they had never met.

How interesting.

Just like everyone else present, Xinfeng had two options. Either turn a blind eye and fade into the back of the group--it was easy enough, given his general meek presence-- or offer the helpful hand that seemed so desperately needed. The pros far outweighed the cons and it took Xinfeng not a split second to finalize his decision.

As Xinfeng approached the injured boy, he felt the stray eyes of some close-by disciples slide onto his back. After all, Xinfeng was not the only one who noticed the struggling youth. Good, Xinfeng thought. Let them observe the situation and speak of it to the others.

“You poor thing.” Xinfeng approached with a soft voice and sad eyes. “Were you hurt in the mountains?” He looked around them and shook his head. “My name is Ru Xinfeng, outer disciple of the Lan Sect. It is still a long, treacherous road ahead, and a difficult trek awaits us. Please, let me help you.” 

@xxweixiaoyu

[xxkitae]

At the world’s edge

The mist swarmed him like thick miasma. Xinfeng remained still, vigilantly assessing his surroundings. With the speed it descended, the fog was definitely unnatural. What would it bring? A monster? A hypnotizing songbird? If he was still with his group he would have called out for help, but there was no point now that they were separated. Xinfeng quickly calculated what he must do to guarantee his safety. The name of the Bai entity was on the tip of his tongue when the voices reached him.

High-pitched and childlike, the cacophony cries conveyed such misery that even the steeliest of hearts would be stirred. Xinfeng tensed. He recognized those cries, even though it had been more than a decade since he last heard them.

“Big brother, big brother! Please don’t leave... I’m hungry... I’m cold... it hurts... I’m scared.”

Xinfeng stayed statue-still, frozen in place as if struck with affliction. Then, laughter bubbled from his throat until it grew into a deranged and uncontrollable guffaw. On and on he went, until his voice sounded almost pained with the strain. When it finally simpered Xinfeng breathed hard, as if out of breath. The cultivator’s impeccable mask had finally cracked.

“Really? Is this the best you could do?” Xinfeng challenged into the cold, lifeless mist. It was not good to taunt the demon--but the demon had pried his mask off and must now pay the price by witnessing his true degeneracy.

Perhaps the evil creature sensed the last shreds of guilt buried deeply within Xinfeng’s heart and sought to use that against him. If he had any semblance of humanity left, it was just exposed to the elements and smothered.

“After all, if I abandoned them back then,” Xinfeng laughed dryly, choking. “What makes you think I wouldn’t abandon them now?” 

[xxkitae]

Sijunxx: (...) “I am just joking! I don’t want to be your brother at all,” he drawled, implication clear. Unfortunately, knowing the prudish Lans, it might just fly over the other’s head. “I am heading to the Baijing mountain, actually. There is someone I need to speak with there - got a message to deliver.”

“Where, son?” It was the granny’s voice. “I don’t think that is a good idea. Did you not hear about what happened?”

Xinfeng smiled modestly, shaking his head in gentle exasperation at Sijun’s reply. Sijun was a clever boy--re-directing Xinfeng’s inquiry with humorous distraction. From the way he evaded Xinfeng’s question, it was clear Sijun did not wish to disclose his residence. Either he did not trust Xinfeng enough, or he was truly staying somewhere taboo. Xinfeng swayed towards the latter, as Sijun seemed already quite taken with him, unlikely to withhold information without a good reason.

Of-course the suggestion behind Sijun’s words registered in Xinfeng’s mind.

Virtue, abstinence, inner peace and self-discipline-- Outwardly, Ru Xinfeng exemplified all the traits of a proper Lan. In truth, he was far from it. Xinfeng was an unwanted street urchin first, then a lowly Jin servant. It was only in recent years that he had crawled, deceived, cheated, and clawed his way into the persona of a respectable Lan. Even the look in Sijun’s gaze was not lost on him--Xinfeng had witnessed those same looks ever since he was a dirt-grimed orphan begging for scraps on the garbage-strewn streets.

Still, there was a difference. A key difference. Sijun displayed a straightforward eagerness that indicated his intentions, however impure, were harmless. He was a good boy--which meant he was vulnerable. Easy prey to manipulation. Sijun claimed he hailed from a clan, but Xinfeng could not locate his name under any official directory. Perhaps his clan was too insignificant, or perhaps he was outcast. His homelessness and cryptic family situation indicated he was most likely estranged. Xinfeng wanted to know more, to confirm whether his theory was true.

Xinfeng turned to Sijun after they settled the granny home. “I am heading towards Baijing mountain myself. I suggest you avoid that area, Sijun-gongzi, for much of the the major sect disciples will be present. I would offer to deliver your message, but... something tells me this is a private matter.” Xinfeng smiled knowingly. He paused, letting the silence fall upon them.

“I do enjoy your company, Sijun-gongzi.” Xinfeng confessed softly, unwrapping a ribbon from his hair. “Take this, for safekeeping. Perhaps one day, this ribbon will re-unite us. Someday, we could meet again.”

「+5 karma points.」

[xxkitae]

Aroma of Spring

The cool, crisp air prickled Xinfeng’s skin, saturating his lungs as he breathed. The sun shone warmly despite the chilly Spring chill, producing a quiet, idyllic afternoon on the Gusu Lan grounds. Lectures were concluded for now, and most disciples dedicated the rest of their day to self-cultivation: meditating, practicing their craft, memorizing poetry and philosophy. Perhaps it was unsurprising that even in their free time, the Lan disciples would honor the sect motto of self-discipline and diligence.

The man whom Xinfeng was about to visit exemplified this phenomenon perfectly.

Xinfeng ascended the stairs quietly so as not to disturb the figure inside. Lan Jianren sat within the pavilion, focused on the scrolls before him.

“Shixiong,” Xinfeng greeted the inner disciple; it was a term of respect Xinfeng had never shaken no matter how comfortable they grew in eachother’s company. As Jianren’s eyes befell him, Xinfeng tilted his head down in a modest, gracious bow. A tray of freshly-brewed tea was balanced in his arms. The outer disciple had hurried over so it would not lose its heat.

“Excuse my interruption, I thought you could benefit from a small break.” Xinfeng offered, an unspoken fondness in his gaze. Without waiting for the other man’s reply, Xinfeng padded forward and soundlessly settled the tray onto the table. The tea was poured in a thin trickle, its steam diffusing visibly in the cool air. The aroma saturated the pavilion nicely--As always, Xinfeng ensured to bring Jianren’s favorite. “Share this tea with me?” Xinfeng smiled, settling on the other end. He glanced at the papers on Jianren’s desk, noting its contents. “I hope I’ve not disturbed you.”

@xxjianren

[xxkitae]

Sijunxx:

(...)

“Walk with me, Lan gege?” He smiled invitingly before continuing down the path the granny pointed out. “It’s not fair, you know - I’ve told you my name, and you’ve not returned the courtesy.”

The smile slowly faded from Xinfeng’s lips as Sijun explained his damaged core.

“I am sorry,” Xinfeng replied, with something akin to empathetic sorrow in his voice. Despite Sijun brushing the subject off in a light-hearted manner, the intonation in his voice suggested he was still, in some ways, affected by this traumatic event. And affected, he should. A damaged core, Xinfeng recounted, was not something easily survived, much less repaired. Xinfeng tucked this revelation about Sijun in the far corner of his mind. Of-course, Sijun could be lying, but... this information was in tandem with Xinfeng’s observations of the boy. Suddenly, things that confused Xinfeng about Sijun in the past now made sense. 

Xinfeng’s smile returned as Sijun asked to walk with him. “I am not too well-versed a cultivator myself, but if this young master and grandmother would like my assistance, then I shall do my best.” With that, Xinfeng turned to the old woman on Sijun’s back and, with her permission, took the heavy basket off her hands. Thus they set off, maintaining a slow yet steady pace, Sijun with the pleased old lady on his back, Xinfeng with basket in hand. Every step took them deeper into the quiet of the villages, farther from the noise of town.

“...I suppose you are right. It is time I revealed my identity,” Xinfeng chuckled. “My name is Xinfeng. Ru Xinfeng. Sealed heart. Lan is not my surname, as I am but an outer disciple.” Xinfeng fell silent, staring into the distance as if reminiscing something. He shook his head, smiling quaintly. “No matter. At the Lan Sect, everyone is treated fairly. I am thankful for that.”

It was once again Xinfeng’s turn to voice his curiosity towards his unforeseen companion.

“Sijun-gongzi, you mentioned you are still homeless?” A faint trace of concern in his gaze. “Where, may I ask, do you intend to go now?”

「+5 karma points.」

[xxkitae]

Sijunxx:

(...)

See, if first time was a coincidence, then the second time could be called luck - now Sijun only needed a third time before he could declare this man his destiny. “Lan gege!” He called out, running towards the man - not too fast because he didn’t want to jolt the old woman. “Do you remember me? It’s homeless Sijun! We met a while ago in the…Lan sect dungeon.” Actually, perhaps he should have not reminded the other of their first meeting. After all, Sijun didn’t exactly clear his name by the time he left Cloud Recesses.

Shock. That was the first emotion Xinfeng registered upon seeing Sijun’s face.

Xinfeng had been querying the locals when a loud, familiar voice reached him. Despite his mastery of his expressions, Xinfeng could not keep the surprise off his face. Sijun was here, free, and calling out to him happily. Not only that, his hands were clearly full, an elderly woman on his back. Xinfeng assessed the situation quickly. The shock faded from his features just as fast as it came, replaced by something akin to faint surprise and concern.

“Sijun-gongzi,” Xinfeng treaded over, elegant and steadfast. “What a chance encounter for us to meet again. Where have you been all these days? Everyone at Gusu Lan is worried about you... including me.” Or, more accurately, everyone at Gusu Lan was looking to arrest Sijun. There was a big warrant on Sijun’s head--his only saving grace was that he did not hurt any Lan disciples, much less the inner Lan disciple he had kidnapped and left unharmed at a bar (psychologically notwithstanding).

Why did Xinfeng approach a known criminal so comfortably, one may ask? Xinfeng felt no ill intentions from the other man--other sorts of intentions, yes, but that Xinfeng could work with--and even nurture, if controlled well. Plus, there were no witnesses to their current interaction--Xinfeng was a gambling man, and right now, he was more interested in exploring and solving the enigma of Sijun than turning him in.

Xinfeng’s eyes trailed to the elderly woman resting on Sijun’s back. “Grandmother, are you injured?” Xinfeng glanced at Sijun, his gaze softening in approval. “Is this young cultivator helping you home?”

「+5 karma points.」

[xxkitae]

No good deeds

The moonless sky blanketed its occupants in darkness, mirroring the bleak atmosphere of the Lan Sect. What was initially a routine extermination mission for a group of young disciples--a chance for some juniors to sharpen their skills, perhaps--had ended in horrific, unforeseen tragedy.

The first sign that something went wrong came when days passed without word from the mountains.

The rescue effort was swift, but by then it was already too late. Lan Jingyun was unconscious by the time he was carried back; the boy limp in their arms, the white of his robes indistinguishable underneath blood and grime.

Aside from one... no others survived.

Xinfeng dipped a soft cloth in the water basin, wringing its excess liquid before swapping the old cloth off Jingyun’s forehead. It had been long since he’d been brought back, yet the boy still hadn’t regained consciousness. His skin was pale as paper, yet felt feverish to the touch; at times he muttered nonsensically and his face twisted in distress as if battling a never-ending nightmare. Despite his condition, the medics had treated all that they could--eventually, it was declared with a general sense of frustration and helplessness that the best they could do was diligently monitor and report any changes in condition for now.

Xinfeng had been among the first to volunteer to help in Jingyun’s treatment. Despite their different statuses, it was widely known that Xinfeng held a soft spot for the inner disciple. Plus, Xinfeng was known to be competent and help was needed--resources were stretched thin as the recovery effort was an ongoing priority. Since then, Xinfeng spent most of his time by Jingyun’s bedside, every waking moment tending to the boy. At some point, his eyes had grown bloodshot from lack of rest. The other medic had retired to take a nap, a brief, desperate reprieve which Xinfeng had subtly encouraged. ‘Leave it to me, Shixiong,’ Xinfeng sent him off with a reassuring smile, and the other stumbled out of the room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he promised to be back within the hour. Now, the room was eerily silent, and Xinfeng and Jingyun were finally alone.

Xinfeng clenched the cloth tight, his fist trembling from the effort.

Why?

Why has everyone died... in one fortnight? Everyone, gone... just like that?

Everyone... even him?

...

A small, quaint laugh bubbled in Xinfeng’s chest, spilling out his throat and echoing perversely throughout the room. Hearing of Qingfeng’s death, in such a debased and gruesome manner, and watching the one he held the most dear suffering... Xinfeng could not stop the depraved glee from wracking his body. The feeling was cathartic.

Xinfeng’s only true regret was that he could not drive the sword into Qingfeng himself.

Eventually, Xinfeng calmed, the mask sliding back over his face. The man leaned down, beckoning in a soft, soothing voice, like the one he used when Jingyun was small and scared and needed comforting the most.

“Jingyun, listen to my voice... You’re safe now, you’re home. Don’t be scared, I’m here... tell me what happened. How did Qingfeng die? Who... what killed him?”

@jingyunxx

[xxkitae]

xxsulei:

(...)

She laughed. “well, they do want to improve inter sect relations since it is very much in the lan favour to be friendly with everyone,” she stated. She then grinned at the disciples fussing over the bowl of sugar and sweets. “Oh the kids 100% deserve it. Especially since most of the passers from the regulation test are our own precious lan juniors,” she added, feeling quite proud of her boys.  

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare--” Xinfeng weakly protested at Sulei’s offer to help, that the work was too crass for a disciple of such standing, but it was impossible to resist the older disciple’s good-willed insistence.

Xinfeng chortled quietly at Sulei’s observations. “Quite right, many of the present disciples don Gusu Lan colors.” It goes unsaid that most of those who obtained perfect marks were Lan  disciples as well. Xinfeng regarded Sulei with a warm smile. “In my humble opinion, it would be much more appropriate to attribute the student’s success to the teacher. A pupil, no matter how promising, will achieve nothing without a guide to follow, a role-model to strive towards. Without the plank correcting its posture, the sprout--no matter how strong or tall--will grow into slanted and wayward tree.” With this, Xinfeng gave another small courtesy. “Sister Sulei should be proud, for it is not only by the disciples’ own merits that they excelled in this exam, but also by your excellent tutelage.”

Xinfeng gazed at the calm, serene sky outside. “What a pleasant day... It is rare enough that our  disciples can enjoy an afternoon of leisure; the opportunity must be infinitely more so for an inner disciple. With this lecture, many important figures have gathered... I’m sure some children are over-the-moon at the thought of reuniting and spending time with familiar faces, while others perhaps abhor the very idea.” Xinfeng covered his lips modestly with his sleeve, as though stifling his reaction to a particularly striking memory.

In Xinfeng’s experience, idle, peaceful, pleasant conversation between an inner and outer disciple was difficult to attain. Xinfeng couldn’t count the number of times he was overlooked, disregarded, or patronized due to his lowly birthright. It was subtle, of-course, always, awfully subtle at the Gusu Lan Sect compared to other Sects--but, as sure as a wayward glance or a disdainful scoff, as sure as a gaze which stared right past his soul as if he was invisible--it was there. Despite her icy reputation, when it came to things that mattered, Xinfeng noted that Sulei was more tolerant than most. Ru Xinfeng dared to toe the line and asked, “I trust sister Sulei has something important planned for the afternoon, as well?” Or, perhaps, someone important to meet?

Surprise Encounter

[xxkitae]

Surprise Encounter

It was an eventful day. Red bean soup was to be distributed to every disciple whom passed the regulations test, and the recipients were plenty. A few Lan Sect disciples were tasked with the set-up. Xinfeng intercepted one such disciple transporting materials from the kitchens. The man had been grumbling under his breath when Xinfeng pulled him aside and offered to take the load off his hands. The disciple seemed pleased.

Counting his luck, Xinfeng encountered the esteemed inner disciple, Lan Sulei at his destination.

“Disciple-sister Sulei, what a pleasant surprise.” Xinfeng bowed, curtsying as respectfully as he could with both arms full. “Are you here to oversee the operation? Or to ensure everyone behaves?” Xinfeng chuckled at the disciples who were running about, ensuring everything was set up before the main group arrived. “What a surprise they are adding sugar in our reward. The elders must be intending to strengthen inter-sect relations with this event.” If anyone would know, it would be the inner disciple before him. Xinfeng glanced towards the juniors who were currently fussing excitedly over the bowls of sugar. A fond smile overcame his lips.

“Nonetheless, I’m sure the children will appreciate it.”

@xxsulei

[xxkitae]

Zhiyangxx:

(...)

xinfeng looks far better in bright attire, embellished by wealth and wine, than in his current chaste white and insolent blue.

he levels his gaze, says, “white suits you.” then:  a small smile, a silent beckoning.

Jin Zhiyang looked splendid, the golden vermilion crest prominent on his garbs as he descended the hall. How ironic that Xinfeng was chosen to guide this esteemed guest to his quarters. Perhaps this was a happy coincidence; perhaps the Lan elders, mindful of Xinfeng’s history with the Jin in question; sent him to greet the other man on purpose; or, perhaps the Jin successor requested for Xinfeng himself. The first was the most likely; the second was the least; and the last was what Xinfeng had hoped.

“You’re as kind as ever, Jin-gongzi.” Xinfeng replied meekly, his cup filling at the other man’s behest. “I am but a lowly servant, plucked from obscurity by someone of far greater status and generosity. If not for you, I would not come close to the privilege I currently enjoy.”

There was something off about Jin Zhiyang today.

It wasn’t his gait, attitude, or manner of speech. It was something in his gestures, his words. Xinfeng couldn’t quite put his fingers on it.

It was something in his eyes.

A strange... intensity.

Not an unfamiliar one.

Shivers ran down Xinfeng’s back at Zhiyang’s smile, de ja vu hitting him like a storm.

He couldn’t be sure. But at the very least, he must reciprocate this dance.

Xinfeng took the tea pot and walked towards the other man. He leaned down towards him, into him; refilling the cup, focused on his task, as though unaware of how small the distance had closed between them.

“Jin gongzi is too kind. It is true, this white suits me,”

Xinfeng’s sleeve slid down his wrist, exposing a sliver of tender skin.

Just as you liked.

Xinfeng flickered his gaze upwards, meeting Zhiyang’s eyes.

“But not so much as gold.”

— if it repeats

[xxkitae]

Intro

Hippity hop its ya girl lils finally here with my third muse Xinfeng’s intro post!! (I always pump these out too late j;alsdfjlj). I’ll try to make this nice short & concise so y’all can get a good idea of him with one glance :3c Basically imagine if Xiao Xing Chen + Meng Yao had a lovechild, that would be Xinfeng. Ok intro post done thanks for reading guys jkjk

BASIC STATS

-Gentle, kind, caring, well-spoken, disciplined, respectful, patient, nurturing. Has a soft spot for children & is often seen guiding/caring for a flock of baby chicks I mean baby disciples. Dislikes confrontation & strives to solve conflicts peacefully. Is excellent with kids from his experience of raising 5 siblings. Possesses endless patience. ENDLESS PATIENCE. Has record ability to calm a crying baby in 5 seconds. Some kids accidentally call him “shijie” (师姐) aka “older disciple-sister” due to his mild temperament & nurturing tendencies. Basically the embodiment of mother Theresa.

ACTUAL PERSONALITY:

- 🐍 🐍 🐍 🐍 🐍

-Manipulative, duplicitous, opportunistic, power-hungry ladder climber. If you have an important position in the sect, he’ll cater to your every need / bring you tea / flatter you subtly & get on your good graces. Has a huge inferiority complex & believes he must struggle/fight for everything in life.  Extremely calculating & basically has no lows that he isn’t willing to stoop to in order to accomplish his goals.

-started out as a servant @ Jin sect & was sent to Lan sect in his teens on Jin Zhiyang’s recommendation. Xinfeng is pretty shit at fighting/ playing guqin/ anything that requires spiritual energy, as he started cultivating late & is not very talented. Sad reality is that he can put in 5x the effort as everyone else & still won’t catch up. Not only that, he will always be an outer Lan disciple due to his lowly birth status.

-You’ll prob either see him in the study, reading, or outside tending the garden, or feeding the bunnies, or running errands, often with other disciples/ trailing elders, etc. 

-Here is full stats page & history page (still in progress). Hmu if you want a buddy to plot potentially nefarious things with--or, if you’d just like a cute thread with our nice gentle big sister Lan~ :3