Work Text:
Feng Xin keeps an ear out for rumors. How can he not?
Maybe Xie Lian still doesn’t ever want to see him again. That’s… Feng Xin will endure that, if that is the case. He has for so long already. He would compare it to losing a limb, but such a comparison is too generous to him. He is a limb without its body, a shield lacking its owner to protect.
If Xie Lian wishes to never see him again, Feng Xin will endure. He just needs to make sure that he is well. That he is safe. He will do whatever is necessary to ensure this.
He chases rumors of Xianle. Of men dressed in all white. Of tales of immortals walking among mortals. Su Xiyan is nominally in charge of parsing through everything and delivering reports to Feng Xin, as she is discreet and actually seems to come up with half-decent results. He’d like to give her credit and put them at higher than half-decent, but…
Hundreds of years, and he’s found nothing.
Sometimes he wonders if Xie Lian is even still alive. Feng Xin doesn’t know how it works exactly for fallen gods, if Xie Lian can still be an immortal even now, but he has never asked Jun Wu. He doesn’t want Jun Wu to know that Feng Xin is looking for Xie Lian – what if he forbids him? – and if Jun Wu is going to tell him that Xie Lian is dead, well… Feng Xin would rather keep looking forever.
It’s a good thing that he can remain unseen to mortals, that he can shield himself even from those cultivators that have climbed their way to immortality but not to godhood. (Not that he encounters many of those – most of those claiming immortality are charlatans.) Feng Xin investigates all the promising leads, takes a leap down after clearing a moment of time, and finds the person in question, or the source of the rumor, or whatever it may be. None see him, and he slips back up to the Heavens, trying not to let that hang heavy in his heart.
None see him, he thinks, until the boy in red.
Feng Xin isn’t sure what rumor he first shows up at. Perhaps he’s been there all along and Feng Xin has simply never noticed him, too fixated on Xie Lian, on finding him. But whatever is the case, he finally sees him.
It’s another dead end, of course. Rumors of an immortal cultivator that wears all white, who travels with one in black. The latter had definitely made it seem unlike Xie Lian, but… well, it’s Xie Lian. It’s not at all far-fetched to think that he would have made a friend, that he would have a companion. Who wouldn’t want to follow Xie Lian?
Unfortunately, of course, as always… it isn’t him. A smiling man that reminds him of Xie Lian – who isn’t immortal in any way, so Feng Xin isn’t sure where that part of the rumor came from – and his black-clad, stoic companion. He wishes…
Feng Xin lets his gaze take one more sweep, glancing over the crowd and barely taking them in – when one of them meets his eyes. For a moment, Feng Xin thinks that he’s seeing things. A mortal shouldn’t be able to see him. But he’s not. A boy in all red meets Feng Xin’s gaze with a dark one of his own. Looking… angry, almost. When it’s clear that Feng Xin has noticed him, he smirks slightly, and then turns to leave.
“Wait!” yells Feng Xin, and he moves, pushing through startled mortals who feel something despite not seeing him… but the boy is gone.
At first, Feng Xin doesn’t think the boy in red is after Xie Lian. It makes little sense. Xie Lian is all but forgotten to many (but not everyone, never everyone), and after all those years there is no one who would want revenge. Anyone who wanted such would have long tried to take it out on Mu Qing or Feng Xin – or at least Feng Xin, since Mu Qing made it abundantly clear where his loyalties lay – and there was no one that Xie Lian had wronged personally who would still be around.
No, the natural and normal conclusion was that someone was after Feng Xin – that Crimson Rain was keeping an eye on him, for whatever reason. Feng Xin still doesn’t know why Crimson Rain despises him. The feeling is mutual, of course, but the ghost fucking started it and Feng Xin still has not a clue as to why. Those thirty-three gods, long forgotten? Sure. Feng Xin didn’t know them well, but they were all assholes. Mu Qing? Who the fuck wouldn’t hate Mu Qing.
But what did Feng Xin do?
Crimson Rain isn’t usually one to be circumspect, though. As much as Feng Xin doesn’t like the fucking Calamity, he’s bright and bold and extremely straightforward. It’s kind of gratifying, and kind of relieving. Feng Xin doesn’t do well with looking underneath the underneath, or whatever Guoshi used to say that he promptly tuned out. So Feng Xin expects some kind of ambush eventually or some kind of challenge or literally anything, and instead he gets… nothing.
His missions are fine. Nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary, not even any weird sabotage that could maybe be Crimson Rain choosing a different avenue. (To be fair… he could definitely do that in addition to the non-sneaky stuff and Feng Xin wouldn’t ever guess… ugh, trying to think like that gives him a headache.) A temple burns down, sure, but that’s just normal Crimson Rain behavior. Sometimes he likes to torch them.
It’s when Feng Xin runs into him again while chasing another rumor that he realizes what’s going on.
He doesn’t manage to catch him. Doesn’t manage to catch the boy who must be Crimson Rain, for who else would be there in all red that could see a disguised god, but he sees him again. It makes his blood run cold. Xie Lian.
Why would Crimson Rain be after him? Why? The best, best possible reason is leverage. That he’s still pissed off about Mu Qing and Feng Xin escaping his challenge and that he realizes they still care about Xie Lian. (Well. Feng Xin does. He’s pretty sure that Mu Qing would step in if this were the case too, though, since he’s not that much of an asshole.)
The worst possible reason is that Crimson Rain is ancient enough to know Bai Wuxiang, and wants to finish the job. He had appeared not long after Bai Wuxiang was defeated. Feng Xin isn’t stupid enough to think they’re the same – the fucking Emperor defeated White No-Face, no way could he have escaped – but another fucking monster being obsessed with Xie Lian would, well…
Who wouldn’t be?
Feng Xin doesn’t look for Xie Lian, next time. His gaze goes straight to searching for red, and he manages to get close enough to grab the boy’s sleeve. Honestly, he’s kind of surprised that the boy even lets him, because surely Crimson Rain is strong enough to just vanish. “What are you playing at!?” he demands, furious but also fearful, tucked underneath that. “Why are you looking for him!?”
Crimson Rain laughs slightly, an unpleasant sound as he glares at Feng Xin. “Why am I? Why are you?”
Feng Xin lets go, scowling, but the ghost goes nowhere. “What the fuck!? I asked you a question first!”
There’s a smile that doesn’t reach Crimson Rain’s eyes. “I won’t answer yours unless you answer mine.”
God fucking damn it. He has no leverage here. Besides, it’s not like it’s a secret. “He’s my fucking Crown Prince, of course I’m searching for him! I want to make sure he’s goddamn alive!”
Crimson Rain’s face practically transforms from a boy’s to a mask of utterly inhuman rage. “Your Crown Prince? You dare to claim His Highness as such when you left him!?”
Feng Xin takes the tiniest step back. His eyes are wide. “I didn’t-” He doesn’t know what to say. He did leave him. And this ghost… cares about that?
“You left him alone, disloyal dog. You abandoned him when he needed him the most, and you dare to think you’re better than that Sweeping General!?” Crimson Rain laughs again, eyes flashing. “You deserve nothing of him.”
And just like that, he’s gone.
Feng Xin stands there for a long, long time. Mortals pass around him like he’s not even there, unaware of his presence and unconsciously shifting around his body like a stream flowing around a stone.
There’s no one he can speak to about this. The idea of bringing this up to Mu Qing makes him want to rip out his own organs instead, so he doesn’t, and he instead just conspicuously avoids the other general. (He’s not GOOD at keeping it to himself.)
Leaving Xie Lian is the biggest regret of his entire life. It will never not haunt him, never not make him wonder what could have been.
But to call him disloyal?
Xie Lian had ordered Feng Xin, and he is nothing if not loyal – he had obeyed, even if now he regrets it. Who is Crimson Rain to claim this!?
The conversation definitely makes his view shift, though. While Feng Xin certainly doesn’t trust the Ghost King’s intentions, with a proclamation like that, it doesn’t seem like he’s out for any sort of revenge that includes Xie Lian (it might include Feng Xin, though.) That doesn’t mean he’s looking for a good reason – what if he plans to lock His Highness away, to keep him all to himself, to put his hands on him…!?
No. No way can Feng Xin abide something like that.
If it comes down to an actual fight between him and Crimson Rain… he’ll lose. Feng Xin will try his hardest, of course, but he’ll lose. There’s no shame in admitting it – he once beat thirty-three gods at once. (Even if there’s no shame, he still fucking hates admitting that.) If he were fighting alongside Xie Lian in his prime, he’d have no doubts about winning. But… he has no idea what the state of Xie Lian will be.
He could be starved, weak, beaten and broken and- Feng Xin doesn’t want to think about it.
Okay. Okay. He almost, almost goes to Mu Qing, but… he can’t admit that he’s been fruitlessly looking for His Highness for centuries. Given how pointless it’s been so far, he may not even help at all. It would be one thing if Xie Lian were right here, he thinks, but since he’s just chasing rumors…
“What would you do,” Feng Xin asks, brow furrowed, “If someone dangerous was searching for someone you know… But you’re not strong enough to defeat them.”
Su Xiyan is a gem and doesn’t ask him to explain what the hell he’s talking about. Instead, she considers. “Can you get strong enough?”
Ugh. “No,” Feng Xin grumbles. If it were possible, he would’ve managed it a long time ago.
She nods slightly. “Do you know why they’re searching for this person?” She must know this is about Xie Lian.
He grimaces. While he knows it’s not for revenge or anything like that, it doesn’t clear things up. “Also no.”
“Then it looks like that’s your first step,” she says neatly. “Do you want me to assign anyone to-”
“No, no, I’ll do it myself,” Feng Xin says, waving her off. “Fucking hate investigations, I’m so shit at this…” Su Xiyan says nothing, delicately arching her eyebrow and leaving him be.
That is the obvious answer, the obvious solution, and yet Feng Xin has no idea how to go about it. He has no leverage. There’s no reason for Crimson Rain to even talk to him. What, is he just going to demand that the ghost tell him why he’s looking for Xie Lian, who he really is, and hope for the best?
He tries that. It doesn’t go well.
The first few times, Feng Xin doesn’t manage to even catch him. They’re both chasing increasingly unlikely leads, tracking down every single scrap, every single hint – he doesn’t even see Crimson Rain at a few, and he doesn’t know if that’s because they’re passing by each other like ships in the night, one is late and the other early… or if Crimson Rain is chasing down different rumors, that he has better intel than Feng Xin.
(That possibility is terrifying. That the Ghost King could have already captured His Highness and Feng Xin is cluelessly still chasing whispers.)
It’s a relief when he sees that glare once more, that flash of red that’s a deliberate taunt. The second time he sees that color again, the boy dissolves into butterflies the moment Feng Xin snags his sleeves, slicing up his fingers and zipping by his cheeks to leave light, stinging cuts.
He prepares better the time after, spitting out his question before he touches him. “How do you know him?” Crimson Rain stills, and Feng Xin manages to capture that red in his hand. “To get that angry at me – you must actually know him.”
They both stand in the street, mortals parting unconsciously around them. The performer breaking boulders continues his act behind them, unaware of the ghost and the god who had come to seek him out in the hope that he was another.
Crimson Rain pulls his sleeve from Feng Xin’s fingers and turns, his face set in a terrifying, deathly snarl. “You deserve to know nothing about-”
“I didn’t abandon him!” yells Feng Xin, glaring ferociously – for once, Crimson Rain seems caught off-guard. He has no idea whether this will hurt or help things, but Feng Xin refuses to allow this ghost to go around saying such things. It’s bad enough that he can’t stop such talk in the heavens. “He ordered me to leave!”
Some emotion that Feng Xin can’t catch in time flickers over Crimson Rain’s face before he’s glaring again. “You should have still stayed!” he snarls, but the heat is weaker now.
“And disobey His Highness?” Feng Xin snaps right back. “I’ve never fucking done that!” Not the kind of orders that counted, anyway. He drags a hand over his face, tears prickling at his eyes that he hates, hates. Not in front of Crimson Rain. “I’ve regretted it, okay? Fuck-” He pulls his hand away, glaring at Crimson Rain, watching his expression. Feng Xin doesn’t know enough about the situation to know if this will strike true, but- “Haven’t you ever listened to his orders and regretted it!?”
It’s only because Feng Xin is watching for it that he sees the guilt on his face as the Ghost King flinches back and then dissolves into butterflies.
Feng Xin is left standing alone, watching those insects fade into nothing. This time, he’s left uninjured.
Who is Xie Lian to Crimson Rain? That’s not the look of a random, obsessed devotee – he must have known Xie Lian. But how? Feng Xin’s always been there, and…
It could be just a random soldier. That’s… unkind. There were many valiant men and women in Xie Lian’s army, who had fought bravely to their dying breath who only exist in memory now. If Crimson Rain had been a soldier, he was not just a soldier. But any soldier who was close to Xie Lian (and there were not many) had also been close to Feng Xin and to Mu Qing, and absolutely none of them fit Hua Cheng’s profile. Feng Xin knew all of them better than Xie Lian – he had been an untouchable god to most. Were there any soldiers that Xie Lian knew that Feng Xin didn’t…?
He thinks for a bit but he has to dismiss it. If there were, he doesn’t know them – which is kind of the point.
Someone from after Feng Xin had left? That was certainly a possibility. It had been recent enough that there were many remnants of Xianle, and while most people resented and hated Xie Lian… there were always some who did not. Crimson Rain could have been one of those, and he found Xie Lian and the King and Queen after Feng Xin left, and helped them.
It’s another possibility that Feng Xin can’t confirm, but it’s the one he hopes for the most. It means there was someone else to care for Xie Lian when he had left, it means that the time Xie Lian’s been completely alone… has been less than he previously thought.
The final possibility is that it’s someone from before Xie Lian became a god.
This is the one that sticks in Feng Xin’s head the most. While he’s been with Xie Lian nearly his entire life… when they were the youngest of children, he hadn’t. Not yet. They had been friends, companions, before Feng Xin became his bodyguard (and swiftly became unneeded in that position, for Xie Lian is Xie Lian), but he hadn’t been with Xie Lian every moment of every day. For one, he hadn’t been a cultivator.
He tries to think of the other disciples, or of anyone else that Xie Lian had mentioned, but… but…
Only one thing comes to mind when he thinks of the mountains.
Their last sighting of mortals before Xie Lian had risen to the heavens to be cast back down. When people were burning and destroying and looting his temples, and a child had fought back. A teenager at most, fighting wretchedly with everything he had to protect the dilapidated temple, how Xie Lian had wanted him to forget and that boy had promised he wouldn’t have. Feng Xin even remembers thinking warmly of the boy at the time.
Such a thing still doesn’t answer any questions, if that’s the case. Why was he so devoted to Xie Lian in life? Why is he so devoted to Xie Lian in death?
Feng Xin isn’t like Mu Qing. He doesn’t want to be constantly second guessing people’s intentions, doesn’t want to assume the worst of literally everyone, doesn’t want to try to decipher people’s words to say what they’re really saying (because he is just… so bad at that. So bad at that). If this weren’t Crimson Rain, and was in fact a completely random ghost, Feng Xin would be inclined to be charitable, he’d like to think!
But Crimson Rain has killed gods before. Not directly, but- still. He would have done the same to Feng Xin if Feng Xin had been stupid or prideful enough to accept his challenge. Knowing now Crimson Rain’s… obsession(?) with Xie Lian… why those gods? They were as old as all the Xianle gods, if not older, but as far as Feng Xin knows they never had any sort of relationship with Xie Lian (and he would know!! He was there!!).
Finally, finally, Feng Xin goes to Mu Qing.
He doesn’t explain the Crimson Rain thing, not really. “Ran into Crimson Rain on a mission,” he says stiffly, which is technically true because Feng Xin can’t lie for shit. “He said something that made me think. Do you know why he challenged us and those thirty-three gods?” Mu Qing stiffens. Mu Qing knows.
The whole story comes out in punches. He slams his fist right into Mu Qing’s face and Mu Qing claws at him right back and they roll and they tussle and Mu Qing yells at him and Feng Xin yells back and it’s kind of like normal for a moment, no weird ghost mysteries hanging over him, and holy shit Feng Xin needed this.
(Does he… need his arguments with Mu Qing? That’s a fucking horrifying thought. He refuses to contemplate it any longer.)
There’s definitely some things that Mu Qing isn’t mentioning, but Feng Xin knows enough and he leaves after the fight, face swollen and bruised, brow furrowed in thought. Okay. So. He doesn’t blame Crimson Rain for that at all, now. And given he thought Feng Xin betrayed Xie Lian as well… that makes sense.
That means Crimson Rain had been there. The ghost fire that Xie Lian freed, the one that stuck around.
It doesn’t answer any questions about Crimson Rain in life – if there are any answers there, because he may not have really met Xie Lian in life – but that’s the only thing that makes sense. A Xianle soldier, freed in death by Xie Lian, who witnesses such humiliation and strikes back and everyone that he thinks wronged Xie Lian.
Feng Xin finds it… admirable.
Is that weird? It’s fucking weird. It’s Crimson Rain. And yeah maybe Feng Xin should still be wary about his intentions and he’s trying to be, but it’s hard to be wary about the only other person who is still actively trying to make sure that Xie Lian is safe and who killed a bunch of bastards that utterly humiliated Xie Lian and pushed him down when he was already at his lowest.
He doesn’t see Crimson Rain at the site of the next rumor, or the one after – this time, he’s not worried. Well, not worried in the same way? He’s not worried about Crimson Rain having more intel or anything, but he’s maybe… well, Crimson Rain had seemed kinda messed up at the end of their last conversation. (What the fuck. What the fuck are his thoughts right now.) Hopefully, the bastard is just watching in some subtle way that Feng Xin isn’t picking up, since normally he’s bright red and provoking and all that.
Sure enough, after a few more times of not seeing him, the ghost shows up once more. Crimson Rain is just there among the crowd. Feng Xin makes eye contact with him, and his expression is neutral. Not aggressive, for once, but not… welcoming, either. Feng Xin leaves him be.
He treats it like he’s approaching a skittish animal – treats him like how Xie Lian had slowly, slowly beckoned Mu Qing into their circle. (Feng Xin tries not to think about the end results of that.) He doesn’t approach Crimson Rain right away, but tries to get a little closer each time. Tries to just naturally step closer, less mortals between them, all that.
Feng Xin is probably not very subtle? He’s not good at that!! But if Crimson Rain knows, he doesn’t do anything about it. In fact, Feng Xin even thinks maybe Crimson Rain is intentionally appearing (is he… literally appearing or does he just reveal himself to Feng Xin or does Feng Xin just notice him at that time?) closer to Feng Xin, less distance between them. Eventually, they’re standing side by side.
They stay that way, quiet, watching the performer who wasn’t Xie Lian pack up for the day and head out, and the crowd of mortals disperse until it’s just the two of them. “...His Highness used to like watching these kinds of performances when he was a kid,” Feng Xin offers up deliberately. It’s a peace offering, an olive branch, a careful overture in Crimson Rain’s direction.
He turns towards Feng Xin slightly, probably trying to not seem interested but even to someone like Feng Xin, it’s written in every line of his body. “Oh?”
Feng Xin nods, his face softening, a smile curling at his lips as he remembers. “Before I was his bodyguard, we were friends as children. More than once he snuck us out of the palace and onto the streets to see what was going on. He could never really be contained, and wanted to see all of the different people in his kingdom, everything that was going on. He charmed every person we ever talked to.”
“Of course he did,” says Crimson Rain, a tiny smile curving slightly at his mouth for a fleeting moment. “As if he could not. The people didn’t deserve him, anyway.”
“They didn’t,” Feng Xin agrees, without hesitation. He had seen Xie Lian throw everything towards saving his people, carve out every part of himself, how it wasn’t his fault in the slightest… and they had all turned on him. Crimson Rain stills a little, as if he did not expect Feng Xin to agree, and they don’t speak more after that.
It becomes a routine.
If Feng Xin chases something first, he waits until Crimson Rain shows. Crimson Rain waits for him. There doesn’t seem to be anything Crimson Rain can give him in regards to Xie Lian, information or stories that Feng Xin doesn’t already know, so it’s just Feng Xin who offers up memories, who offers up any scraps and bits and pieces he can remember from centuries ago. He’s never been a good storyteller, but he tries his hardest. Xie Lian deserves that, to be remembered and to be talked about, no matter what his ultimate fate is. (No. No. They will find him and he will be fine and then he can be embarrassed that Feng Xin shared stories of him from when he was young. That’s what Feng Xin wants so badly that he can taste it.)
One day, none come to mind. Not in a panic-inducing way, not that he’s scraped the bottoms of memory, that he has nothing more to give, but just that he doesn’t have anything that occurs to him. Instead, he looks at Crimson Rain and asks, “You were the ghost fire that His Highness freed, weren’t you?”
Crimson Rain doesn’t say anything for a long moment. He looks ahead at the one they wanted to be Xie Lian, at the cultivator surrounded by children, and he nods slowly. “I was. But it wasn’t the first time we met.” His eyes slide to Feng Xin. “We’ve met before, as well.”
Feng Xin searches his memory. He had had many ideas about who Crimson Rain was before, but someone that Feng Xin also met… He grimaces. “I don’t have any idea.”
Crimson Rain smirks. “That’s not a surprise.”
Woah, what the fuck, is he being teased? By Crimson Rain Sought Flower? What the hell is his life. Feng Xin scowls, like he’s expected to, and shoves Crimson Rain’s shoulder lightly, which he’s definitely not expected to. “Shut up,” he says.
The ghost king just looks amused and Feng Xin tries not to think about the way he was warm underneath his hand.
In the moment, he manages. Once he gets back to the heavens, though, he has a bit of a crisis. Feng Xin has only ever loved two people in his life. Well, he loved his parents, but that’s- different. Jian Lan is long dead and buried. He had loved her truly, but it had not been the soul-gripping kind of love that he mourns after every day. Xie Lian… Xie Lian had been that kind of love.
He’s okay to love Xie Lian and not have Xie Lian love him the same way in return. Feng Xin thinks that everyone who is close to Xie Lian has felt that way – Mu Qing definitely did. He’s Xie Lian. The Flower Crowned Martial God, Taizi Dianxia. He thinks Crimson Rain is the same. How could anyone close to him not feel that way? How could you think of another? Being by Xie Lian’s side has always been enough for him, and there’s no sadness in that. Jian Lan had been a time he will remember warmly, but does not pine over. Xie Lian he does not pine over either, but simply wants to be with, to see, to know that he is alright, for Feng Xin is a shield with nothing to protect, a weapon with no one to use him.
(Mu Qing… it doesn’t matter how it could have been with Mu Qing, once upon a time. There’s too much ugliness between them now, too much for Feng Xin to climb over, if he even wants to. He doesn’t know if he does. Mu Qing is there, though, consistent and there, and Feng Xin thinks having a person’s presence is what matters most to him.)
Feng Xin isn’t good at lying to others, and he’s not very good at lying to himself, either. He can feel the burgeoning warmth towards Crimson Rain in his chest, can feel the way he relaxes around the other. A common goal. A common understanding. A common care and love for someone they’re both chasing after with every fiber of their beings. There’s a lot he doesn’t know about Crimson Rain, but he wants to know. He does.
“Hua Cheng,” he calls him, the next time they meet, and Crimson Rain’s eyes flicker with something, but he does not correct him. He shifts his stance a little bit (perhaps closer to Feng Xin, or is he simply overthinking?).
“Yes?” Hua Cheng asks, lifting a brow at him.
Feng Xin gives him his array password. It’s a long, long moment before he hears the ghost’s voice in his mind. That was foolish of you.
Sometimes, Hua Cheng feels just like Mu Qing. Can nobody trust? Do they have to overthink everything? What the fuck, honestly. Maybe it was. You’ve called me stupid plenty of times already.
Hua Cheng smirks. You’re supposed to learn from that and be smarter. I should have known it was impossible for you.
Feng Xin scowls and pushes him again – warm. This time, his hands linger. Hua Cheng’s smirk pauses on his face and then fades into something unreadable. His eyes flicker from Feng Xin’s hands to Feng Xin’s face, and then he deliberately steps away from the touch. It’s like a punch to the gut, but Feng Xin gets it. Dianxia. Hua Cheng says nothing, and Feng Xin feels compelled to fill that silence. I get it. Me, too.
That seems to surprise Hua Cheng. “You?” he asks out loud.
“Who couldn’t?” Feng Xin says with a shrug. “He’s Xie Lian.”
Hua Cheng hums slightly as his eyes slide away, in agreement. Mutual understanding. Until Xie Lian is found, they are in limbo. Everything is in limbo. (Life cannot be in limbo forever, can it?) They are simply two disciples, two followers, trailing after every trace of his existence, chasing every rumor until perhaps, one day, they can find him. Actually- “When we find him,” Feng Xin says, because there is no ‘if’, there cannot be an ‘if’, “Will you take him to Ghost City?” He’s never been there, of course, but obviously he knows of it.
A quick sneer, familiar and comforting in that familiar, slips onto Hua Cheng’s face. “What, you would bring him to the heavens?”
Feng Xin scoffs. “As if I could! I’m not stupid!” Hua Cheng’s gaze says otherwise, and Feng Xin bristles, but he makes himself calm down. Forces himself too. He doesn’t want to fight with Hua Cheng so quickly after…that, and if Hua Cheng is doing this on purpose (probably), he’s not giving in.
Hua Cheng at least looks amused, now. “I will only bring His Highness there if he wishes to,” says Hua Cheng. “Or if he’s… injured.”
Neither of them want to think about that. Neither of them. The hope is that they will find His Highness surrounded by those drawn into his orbit as they were, who care for him just as much. (Yes, Feng Xin will be jealous if that’s the case, as will Hua Cheng, but they would both prefer that to the alternative.)
“I’ve never been before,” says Feng Xin.
Hua Cheng arches a sardonic eyebrow at him. “I know.”
Feng Xin scowls. “That’s your fucking cue to invite me,” he says. “If Xie Lian might stay there, I need to see it for myself.”
“Please. Your judgement is sorely lacking.” But Hua Cheng considers, and he steps over to a door, Feng Xin a few steps behind. He rolls a set of dice that he pulls from nowhere – Feng Xin doesn’t see the results.
Hua Cheng offers his hand. A peace offering. An olive branch, like Feng Xin’s stories. Feng Xin takes it, and gives the warmth a squeeze, before they step through the door together.