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The weight of his sabre feels comforting in his hand. It moves as he wills, ruthlessly slashing at the spirit in front of him. It’s one of many he’s fought in his lifetime, and it certainly won’t be his last, either. According to Ling Wen, its rank is rather low, which is why Mu Qing finds himself alone in facing it. It should’ve been fine, he didn’t typically need backup for something like this.
So why the fuck is he out of breath?
He grits his teeth and continues his attacks, not letting his guard down for a moment. The ghost is missing its eyes, empty husks left behind where they should have been. Its face is so deformed, it barely resembles a human’s. It shouldn’t have been able to see a thing, yet it’s able to block Mu Qing’s attacks effortlessly. It lets out a loud shriek, making Mu Qing cringe. It takes everything to not drop his sword and cover his ears.
Mu Qing jumps back, an attempt at considering his options. The ghost had been mostly defensive this entire time, clearly not wanting to fight. Mu Qing lowers his sabre slightly, testing the waters.
The ghost, sensing an opportunity, lunges at him suddenly, catching Mu Qing off guard. He raises his sabre to block, but it lands a strong blow, making Mu Qing fall heavily to the side. Mu Qing swears to himself and moves to request backup in the communication array when the ghost makes another move. Its body starts to glow, a blinding light emanating off of its entire figure.
Mu Qing’s eyes widen in surprise, and maybe hints of fear. He raises his hands to block out the light, but they instinctively move to his ears when the ghost lets out another deafening shriek. The light only grows brighter and brighter until its host can’t handle the pressure of it any longer. The ghost implodes with a resounding bang, the lights brightening impossibly further.
Mu Qing shut his eyes far too late, he thinks, as the world around him is plunged in darkness. He tries to open his eyes, but finds that he can’t. The darkness persists, leaving him unable to see a thing. He can feel cold sweat start to build at the back of his neck as he tries to open his eyes again, only to be met by nothingness.
Warily, he reaches up with a hand to his eyelids to find that his eyes are, in fact, opened.
He still can’t see.
-
His trek back to the heavens takes considerably longer when he’s not able to see where he’s going. He trips and stumbles the entire way, swearing as he goes. He’s not proud of it, but he’s absolutely terrified. He has no clue whether this is permanent, nor if his appearance got altered at all. What if someone sees him? The thought alone terrifies him.
He eventually makes it to the Heavenly Capital, though unsure exactly where. He cares less what those down in the mortal realm think of him, but he’d rather die than be caught looking like a stumbling fool in front of other Heavenly Officials. Reluctantly, he reaches out for the one person who’ll actually be of any help in his current situation.
“Ling Wen.” he says with barely restrained frustration lingering in his voice, reaching out to her through her private communication array. “Ling Wen, answer me.” He adds when he doesn’t immediately receive a response.
“General Xuan Zhen?” she says a moment later, sounding distracted. “Must this be discussed now? If it’s about the spirit you just fought, it can wait till later-”
“It cannot .” He bites out. “Come to the gates of the heavenly capital. Now.” he demands.
“General? If something happened, are you sure I should be the one you contact?” she asks, still clearly not paying full attention.
“Ling Wen!” he yells, irritation getting the better of him. “I’m not fucking around, come to the gate, now! ”
Mu Qing hears soft footsteps come his way a few minutes later, and assumes Ling Wen finally made her way over.
“General Xuan Zhen? This had better be important-” she starts.
“My eyes.” He cuts her off, speaking in the direction her voice just came from. “What do they look like?”
Ling Wen makes a questioning noise. “General, you look the same as ever.” she says, and Mu Qing lets out a quiet breath of relief. “General Xuan Zhen, what exactly did you want-”
“Take me to your palace.” he says quietly. Mu Qing’s hearing is good, above average probably compared to mere mortals, but he feels exceedingly uncomfortable not being able to see if there are others listening in on what he’s saying.
“That’s what you called me out here for? To check if you still looked presentable? Is a mirror not good enough for you?” She sounds slightly miffed now as well. “You could have just come to my palace yourself.”
“I couldn’t have.” He bites out quietly, trying to get Ling Wen to quiet down as well.
She pauses for a second. “What do you mean?” She questions, merely sounding confused now.
“I can’t fucking see, Ling Wen.” The silence that follows is loud. Mu Qing can feel himself tense up, as if preparing himself for the judgement that’s sure to follow.
“What-”
“That ghost,” he says, “it did- it did something and now I can’t fucking see.” Deflect the blame, as he’s always done. As if he doesn’t think of himself as a fool for being blinded in the first place.
Ling Wen stays quiet for a moment, “Okay. Let’s go to my palace.” He hears quickly fading footsteps walking away from him.
“Wait! Slowly, I don’t want others to- to notice.” he says.
The footsteps come closer once more. “Okay, stay close. I’ll guide you.”
They walk side by side, Mu Qing staying close enough to Ling Wen to feel her body heat, afraid to lose her guidance. He feels eyes on him the entire way to her palace, and the inability to see if there are people actually watching is near maddening.
Once they arrive at her palace, Ling Wen immediately takes him into her study and sits him down. He hears the rustling of scrolls being opened and closed and moves his gaze in the direction of the sound.
“I thought I sent you to disperse a simple ghost fire.” she mumbles to herself. The rustling of scrolls continues until Ling Wen lets out a small sound of surprise. “I think I found it.”
Footsteps come close to him and suddenly there are hands on his face. Mu Qing flinches back in surprise.
“Sorry, forgot.” she mutters. “I was checking your appearance once more, and since it remains completely unchanged, I believe you actually fought a being of pure spiritual light.”
“I don’t care what I fought.” Mu Qing grits out. “Just tell me whether this is permanent or not.”
Ling Wen drops the scroll in his lap. A scroll he can’t fucking read.
“It’s not permanent.” she says, walking away from him. “Your sight will start returning to you after roughly a month, it will take two for it to restore completely.”
“A month?! ” he chokes.
“Be happy it isn’t permanent.” she says, voice dry. “It’s best you inform other martial gods and your subordinates now, to see if your tasks can be delegated-”
“I will be telling no one of this,” he says curtly, “and neither will you.”
“General Xuan Zhen-” she starts.
“No one.”
Ling Wen sighs, “Suit yourself. I won’t send you on any extra missions for the time being. What you do outside of that is none of my concern."
“Thank you.” he breathes out, grateful for her compliance.
He refuses Ling Wen’s help when he tries to leave. If he wants to convince the entire Heavenly Court that he’s not currently a blind man, he should at least be able to make his way back to his palace himself. He walks slowly, paying careful attention to the changing textures under his boots, making sure he doesn’t stray from the stone path.
He hopes no one notices it if he isn’t walking completely straight.
He’s familiar with the streets of the Heavenly Capital, the build of it similar to the old, now destroyed one. He’s walked this path thousands of times. It’s a slow journey, but he eventually reaches his own palace without making a fool out of himself. He thinks.
He reaches out, fumbling slightly to find the entrance gate. He doesn’t notice nor see the eyes lingering on his back.
He walks up the stairs, familiar with the feeling of it, and closes the doors behind him at last. He lets out a breath, exhausted from the intense focus the journey required.
“General?” A tentative voice calls out from somewhere in the grand entrance hall. Mu Qing inwardly cries at the thought of having to deal with someone in this state.
“General Xuan Zhen,” One of his subordinates says. Mu Qing assumes he bows before speaking again. “how did your hunt go?”
“It was fine,” He truly hopes he’s looking the right direction as he speaks. “there were no complications.”
“That’s great. Shall one of us report to Ling Wen?”
Mu Qing waves him off, “There’s no need, I’ve already done so myself.” His subordinate makes a noise of surprise but doesn’t further comment. “I’ll be retreating to my study and don’t wish to be disturbed.”
“Understood, sir.” The sound of footsteps quickly fade, followed by a door being closed.
Mu Qing drags a hand down his face and sighs. Fortunately, he’s familiar enough with his own palace to walk through it blind, now quite literally. He quickly makes his way to his study and sits down heavily in a chair.
He’s unsure why he came here, it’s not like he’s able to do any work. He fumbles along the archives for a scroll and rolls it out on a table in front of him. He’s seen blind mortals read with the tips of their fingers before. He slides his fingers across the paper, trying to feel for ink, bumps, anything really. It only takes him a short while to give up. His fingers are far too calloused from centuries of wielding a sabre, fingertips not sensitive enough to feel the slight differences of the textures on the paper.
He rolls the scroll back up and leaves it on his desk. It’s not like he’ll be able to find the exact place it belongs in, anyways.
He’s still wallowing in self pity when he hears the sound of someone connecting to the general voice array. He enters it himself just as someone speaks up. “Um, hello!” Xie Lian’s voice rings out, “Are all Martial Gods able to join up for a meeting tomorrow? There has been a tricky ghost terrorising all borders and I thought it best for us all to meet up and discuss it…”
Mu Qing isn’t listening anymore. The thought of having to attend a meeting tomorrow and act normal while he’s like this seems near impossible. Xie Lian and Feng Xin will both be there, and they know him better than anyone. Surely they’ll notice that something’s up and he won’t be able to lie and hide from them.
“...Mu Qing?” Xie Lian questions suddenly.
Mu Qing coughs, “Yes, Your Highness? I apologise, I wasn’t following, could you repeat that?”
Xie Lian makes a noise of concern, “Are you okay, Mu Qing? That isn’t quite like you… I asked if you would be able to attend tomorrow as well.”
Mu Qing grits his teeth. He so badly wants to say no, but he has no valid excuse. Normally, Mu Qing wouldn’t hesitate to agree, so if he wants this secret to stay a secret he really has no choice.
“Yes, Your Highness, I’ll be there.” he says, voice wavering slightly.
“Great! I’ll see everyone tomorrow then!”
The array falls silent, and Mu Qing leans back in his chair. He has to think of a way to make this work. He’s smart enough, surely-
“Mu Qing?” A voice calls out in their private array.
Mu Qing startles, the sound of Feng Xin’s voice catching him off guard.
“Mu Qing? Is everything alright? You were acting kinda off-”
“I’m fine,” Mu Qing cuts him off. “I don’t have time to entertain your nonsense right now.”
Feng Xin scoffs. “Well, fuck me then, I was just trying to show some concern.”
“And I’m telling you there’s nothing to concern yourself with.” Mu Qing snaps. “So, can you leave me alone?”
Feng Xin leaves the array with a noise of discontent, and Mu Qing slumps down. Great, now he’ll have Feng Xin’s eyes on him tomorrow during the meeting, just great. He retreats back to his sleeping chambers, knocking over several decorations as he goes, swearing loudly each time.
Once he enters his chambers, he simply shrugs off his outer layers, letting them fall to the floor. He opts to sleep in just his inner robes, little energy left to change into proper sleep clothing. He leaves the mess to be dealt with another time. It’s not like he’ll ever entertain guests in his bedroom.
Despite all the stress and fear he’s been feeling ever since being blinded, he falls asleep rather easily.
-
Mu Qing stands in front of the closed doors of his own palace, mentally preparing for the long meeting ahead. He feels stretched thin, already quite done with the day despite it only having just started. Waking up had been a struggle in and of itself. He had tried to open his eyes to complete darkness, and panicked. He had completely forgotten about his temporary blindness, and it had taken him a while to calm back down after he realised.
Now, he stands here, body still jittery with lingering panic. He hates that he’s unable to check his own appearance in a mirror. His pride won’t let him ask one of his subordinates if he looks presentable, but the inability to know whether his bangs are messed up or his armour was put on crookedly is killing him.
He takes a deep breath and steps out, slowly making his way to the streets of the Heavenly Capital. He had the foresight to at least leave earlier than expected so that he’s able to take his time. He tries to make his steps appear confident, so that anyone possibly looking at him won’t notice anything amiss. He pays careful attention to the ground below his boots, making sure he walks as straight as possible.
After a while, he hears faint footsteps in the distance. To his horror, Mu Qing realises he recognises the person who they belong to. He speeds up his steps, but it’s of no use. The figure eventually catches up, falling into step beside Mu Qing.
“Mu Qing.” Feng Xin says in lieu of a greeting.
Mu Qing doesn’t grace him with a response, merely focusing on where he’s walking.
It’s silent for a few minutes as they walk side by side. Mu Qing is grateful for it, he nearly even forgets Feng Xin is there at all. That is, until he opens his mouth.
“So,” Feng Xin starts. “About yesterday…”
“What about yesterday?” Mu Qing snaps, cutting Feng Xin off. “Nothing happened yesterday and if it did, I don’t want to talk about it. Now shut up.” He desperately tries to move as normally as possible, Feng Xin’s gaze feeling like fire on his skin.
“What is wrong with you?” Feng Xin genuinely questions. “Why are you walking so stiffly? And your ponytail is slightly crooked too… You’d normally never go outside like this.”
Mu Qing’s posture stiffens even more. “I’m walking stiffly?” he says, voice weak.
Feng Xin makes a noise of surprise. “So do you admit it or not? Either way, I doubt anyone but me or His Highness would notice but yeah, your posture’s kind of strange…” Feng Xin says thoughtfully. “Did something happen?” he sounds puzzled.
“No, nothing happened.” Mu Qing bites out, making an effort to right his posture. “And if something did happen, it’d be none of your business.”
“Always so defensive.” Feng Xin grumbles. He seems to drop it at that, and Mu Qing allows himself to relax slightly. They seem close to the Palace of Divine Might, if the distant chattering is anything to go by.
A hand on his shoulder makes him flinch. He tries to play it off, but he can tell that Feng Xin noticed, though he doesn’t comment on it. The hand on his shoulder moves to his hair, messing with his, apparently crooked, ponytail.
“At least look presentable before we enter,” Feng Xin mumbles as he straightens out his hair and outfit for him. His touch is soft, careful, as if afraid he'd scare Mu Qing again. “lest you start worrying His Highness, as well.”
Mu Qing desperately tries to fight down the blush he can feel spreading across his cheeks. He can't deal with this. “Thanks.” he bites out through gritted teeth. He moves to walk away from Feng Xin, but slightly missteps, causing him to nearly fall.
A pair of hands steady him before he can hit the ground, and before Feng Xin can comment on his behaviour, Mu Qing walks off into the crowd.
He’s eternally thankful that they don’t use assigned seating. He’s able to plop himself down in a random vacant chair and simply listen. He doesn’t need his vision for this, it’ll be fine.
He’s not able to see who sits down next to him, looking at him with worried eyes.
Someone claps their hands together, “Alright, let’s not further delay, then.” Xie Lian says.
The meeting itself goes by fairly quickly. Xie Lian asks the Martial Gods several questions and tries to straighten out a few details. Mu Qing nearly allows himself to believe everything’s about to go by without a hitch when Xie Lian addresses him specifically.
“Mu Qing.” Xie Lian calls, and Mu Qing tries to look straight at him, though he’s unsure how successful he is.
“Yes, Your Highness?” Mu Qing asks.
“There’s one last thing I want to straighten out before we can adjourn the meeting.” Xie Lian says. “Feng Xin’s worshippers have started building temples very close to the border, but I’m unable to tell if they’ve overstepped any. Since you’re most familiar with the divide in the South, I’d like your input.”
Mu Qing can feel a cold sweat building at the back of his neck. “Of course, Your Highness.” Mu Qing says stiffly.
It’s quiet for a moment, before Xie Lian hesitantly speaks up again. “So, um, could you by any chance point out if any of these temples are crossing the border into your territory?” he questions, sounding unsure.
Mu Qing starts feeling a bit panicked, his fingers tapping a restless rhythm on the table beneath them. “Um, yes, of course I can.”
He can feel countless pairs of eyes on him and he knows he should, but he’s unable to get up. Of course he can’t point out the border on the map, he can’t even fucking see where the map is.
Someone coughs and he flinches, moving to get up when a hand pushes him back down. He hangs his head as Feng Xin walks up to Xie Lian. “Allow me, it concerns my territory as well,” he says. “I’m equally as knowledgeable on the topic as Mu Qing.”
Mu Qing stares unseeingly at the table while Feng Xin quietly converses with Xie Lian. He barely listens as Xie Lian closes the meeting off with some parting words. He can hear the sound of chairs scraping across the floors, footsteps leaving towards the exit. He stays seated until he’s sure there’s nobody left. Only then does he dare get up to start on his shameful trek back to his palace.
He doesn’t make it far, however, before he can feel a presence next to him. He pauses in his steps and prepares for another round of questioning.
“...” Feng Xin gives Mu Qing an opportunity to start talking himself, but when he doesn’t, he starts probing. “What was that?” he says bluntly.
“What was what?” Mu Qing snaps. “I don’t have to talk about shit with you.” He tries to leave again before a different voice stops him.
“Mu Qing, are you okay? Feng Xin said you’ve been acting a bit off and I feel inclined to agree with him.” Oh Heavens, Xie Lian is still here as well.
“So you’ve been talking about me behind my back?” Mu Qing sneers in their general direction. “I didn’t take you as the type, Feng Xin.”
“What the fuck?” Feng Xin splutters. “Obviously it’s not like that!”
“I don’t have to talk about shit with you, Feng Xin!” Mu Qing says angrily. “Just leave me alone!” He quickly walks out of the exit, nearly falling off the front porch stairs when he missteps. He can hear Feng Xin talking to Xie Lian behind him before giving chase, but he’s practised enough now to speed walk back to his palace without tripping.
Once he’s inside, he slams the door shut in Feng Xin’s face. He immediately starts banging on the closed door, causing a ruckus that draws the attention of closeby stationed palace officials.
“Um, General Xuan Zhen?” One of them questions
“Just… don’t let him in.” he says, sounding exhausted. “No matter what he tries, keep him out of the palace.”
He doesn’t wait for a response, blindly making his way to his bedroom. Once inside, he slams the door shut and sinks down to the floor.
He listens closely to the sounds outside his chambers. He can vaguely make out Feng Xin screaming at his subordinates, followed by placating words attempting to calm him down. Mu Qing buries his face in his arms and simply waits. Eventually the sounds of Feng Xin’s screams dim, until they fade away completely.
Mu Qing pretends that he isn’t disappointed.
He spends the following few days without leaving his palace grounds at all. Confused and worried palace officials approach him often, though he sends them away every time. His hearing has gotten slightly more sensitive after days of relying on it, and it’s caused him to get headaches frequently.
He’s dealing, is what it boils down to.
He can tell that Feng Xin has been demanding to be let in everyday since he got sent away that first time, with little success.
Mu Qing wills himself to not think about Feng Xin for once, as he stands in the private training grounds of his palace. Training while blinded is perhaps making things harder for himself than they need to be, honing a skill he may not find much practical use for once this is all over. Mu Qing would, however, rather die than slack off, even in these circumstances.
He prods at the training dummy set before him, attempting to aim for its weak points with as little slashes as possible. He knows he’s hit one when his sabre sticks to the dummy where it made contact. He had felt all over the dummy before starting, putting small bits of adhesive on points he had to strike.
He rips off his sabre, mentally patting himself on the back. With little else to do, he’s spent a lot of time training these past few days. He’s happy that he’s at least making hints of progress, albeit rather slowly.
He trains for a bit longer, slowly picking at each point he marked on the dummy until there are none left. Satisfied with his work, he heads inside to retreat back to his chambers. He can feel the beginnings of a headache coming on, and he thinks he’s deserved a nice warm bath and some sleep.
If he had been paying closer attention, he would’ve heard his subordinates quietly converse with Feng Xin at the entrance.
Instead, he finds himself in his washing chambers, attempting to draw a bath by himself. His pride won’t allow him to ask one of his subordinates to do it for him. Doing it alone requires more time, but Mu Qing finds it a small price to pay for keeping the whole charade up.
He doesn’t notice a figure entering the chambers right after him, too focused on carrying one last bucket of water to the tub without spilling any.
“Mu Qing.” A loud voice rings throughout the room, startling Mu Qing and causing him to drop the bucket, spilling water all over the floors. He swears loudly, head whipping around in the direction of the voice.
“Feng Xin?” he splutters. “What the fuck? Who let you in?” He tries to find his way to the entrance, but slips on the water pooled below him. He lets out a yelp of surprise when strong hands catch him around his waist, steadying him before he can hit the floor. Those hands leave him just as quickly, but he can still feel the ghost of their touch tingle on his skin.
“Mu Qing.” When he doesn’t receive a response, Feng Xin reaches out to touch Mu Qing’s shoulder. Mu Qing flinches at the contact and Feng Xin sighs. “Mu Qing, can you look at me?”
Mu Qing bristles at the request. “Is this funny to you, or something?” he snarls. “Did you come here to humiliate me?”
Feng Xin’s grip on Mu Qing tightens and he clicks his tongue. “Always so fucking defensive, your subordinates were just talking to me about your… behaviour these past few days and- can you just look at me?!”
“I can’t!” Mu Qing yells back. “Did you want me to say it out loud for you? Obviously I can’t fucking look at you!”
Feng Xin pauses for a second and Mu Qing loathes that he can’t see his expression. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Before Mu Qing can answer, a voice connects to a private group array and Mu Qing quickly taps in. He can hear Feng Xin do the same. “Mu Qing? Feng Xin? I need both of you to come down to the border between your territories right now. There’s a bit of a… situation.” Xie Lian says.
Mu Qing groans and pushes past Feng Xin, nearly colliding with the wall when he tries to exit his washing chambers.
“Where the fuck are you going?” Feng Xin yells from behind him.
Mu Qing’s boots click against the marble floors as he speedily exits his palace. “Didn’t you hear? The Crown Prince called for us.” he yells back. “Are you going to make him wait, or what?”
He can hear Feng Xin swear under his breath before quickly following him.
Once they make it to the main streets of the Heavenly Capital, Mu Qing slows down. While he’s gained more confidence in his ability to walk these streets blind, he’s still far more hesitant than he would be normally. The footsteps that had gradually been getting further and further away in front of him pause before moving back to Mu Qing.
“What the fuck is up with you.” Feng Xin says, exasperated, before grasping onto Mu Qing and dragging him to the gates of the Capital.
“What the fuck? Let go of me!” Mu Qing struggles against Feng Xin’s hold on him, but his grip only tightens more.
“I don’t know what your fucking deal is, but clearly something’s wrong.” Feng Xin says. “So until you tell me what it is, I’ll just need to drag your ass along.”
Mu Qing wants to protest further, but he can’t deny that having a guide, even one as crude as Feng Xin, is kind of nice after stumbling in the dark for so long. He bites his tongue and lets Feng Xin drag him to the gates. They descend together, Feng Xin’s grip on Mu Qing never slackening.
Xie Lian awaits them near the border. He raises his eyebrow slightly at the close proximity of the two, but doesn’t further question it. He beckons them both over and immediately starts walking.
“Thank you for responding so quickly. This appears to be quite the emergency.” Xie Lian starts. “An incredibly strong spiritual being was found near the border. Ling Wen couldn’t identify what it is, but it seems to be near the same place she sent you not too long ago, Mu Qing.”
Mu Qing can feel a cold sweat building at the back of his neck. He hadn't expected to be fighting today. While he has practised blind combat for the past few days, he’s unsure whether he’s fit for fighting something potentially dangerous.
Feng Xin can feel him trembling minutely, yet Mu Qing is unable to see the strange look Feng Xin sends him.
Xie Lian doesn’t notice the turmoil Mu Qing is going through behind him, and keeps his brisk walking pace. “We must stay vigilant. We don’t know what we might run into, if even Ling Wen wasn’t able to give us any pointers…” he trails off.
He can feel the other stop walking, and he stops with them a beat later. Feng Xin’s breathing is slightly ragged beside him, his grip on Mu Qing’s arm tight. When no one decides to speak up first, Mu Qing takes the initiative.
“What the fuck is going on?” he asks. Feng Xin startles slightly beside him, hand dropping his hold on Mu Qing's arm.
Mu Qing tries to not let it bother him.
“Can’t you fucking see that… thing in front of us?!” Feng Xin yells, voice frantic.
Mu Qing wants to yell back, tell him that no, he can’t fucking see see shit. He bites his tongue, reaching for his sabre.
“Your Highness, where the fuck is Crimson Rain?” Feng Xin barks towards Xie Lian, “He’s usually glued to your hip, yet now he decides to bail?”
Xie Lian groans, the noise sounding strained. Mu Qing wishes he were able to see what was going on, where the others were and what they were fighting but he fears it’s too late to spill his secret now. The hands holding his sabre tremble slightly.
“He got injured yesterday while fighting a being similar to this one.” Xie Lian grits out. “I forbid him from joining me, he needs to rest and this fight wouldn’t have been safe for him. Whether he’ll listen…”
Mu Qing feels slightly lost, unsure what to do. Attacking blindly is far too risky, the chance of hitting either Feng Xin or Xie Lian significant, but simply standing around is making him feel useless.
“Mu Qing!” It's Xie Lian, startling Mu Qing out of his stupor. “Come back me up, Feng Xin can stay behind as a long range support.”
Mu Qing hesitates for a moment, gingerly taking a few steps forward. He can hear Feng Xin nock an arrow behind him. “Move!” he barks to Mu Qing.
Mu Qing takes in a shaky breath, he can’t hesitate lest he lets the other two notice something’s up. He runs up to where he can hear Xie Lian fighting and starts swinging blindly, merely hitting air. Tightening his hold on his sabre, he steps closer and tries again. He can hear Xie Lian make a questioning noise and Feng Xin swearing behind him.
“Mu Qing, what the fuck are you doing?!” He shouts.
Mu Qing is unable to answer as he lets out a shout when he suddenly starts feeling weightless. The creature dangles him in the air by the collar of his robes before flinging him away like a piece of trash. He crashes into a tree not far away, hitting the ground with a loud thump. It happens so fast, neither Feng Xin nor Xie Lian could’ve stopped it. He groans, arms struggling under him as he tries to stand up. The touch of whatever threw him was hot enough to burn, and he can feel several patches of skin starting to blister. The creature hadn’t made a single noise, the only thing Mu Qing had been able to focus on was the sound of Xie Lian’s sword clashing against… something solid.
Mu Qing collapses again, arms giving out from under him. Whatever they’re fighting packs a fucking punch.
He can hear Xie Lian and Feng Xin shouting in the distance, but he can’t make out the words they’re saying. He can feel the air around him steadily growing warmer, almost stiflingly so. Mu Qing tenses when he hears a very familiar shriek close to him. It’s the same exact sound that creature of spiritual light he fought a few days ago had made.
Mu Qing desperately tries to scramble up but he’s only able to stand on two shaky legs before something burning hot is cleaved through his stomach, nailing him to the tree right behind him. He coughs up a mouthful of blood, hands instinctively grasping at whatever’s pierced through him.
He hisses as his fingers make contact with the scalding hilt of what he believes is a sword. The wound in his stomach is unable to heal, every movement he makes tearing it right back open. He tries to grasp at the hilt of the sword again, but the longer he holds on, the more lightheaded he feels. He’s on the verge of passing out when he hears footsteps close in on him.
“Mu Qing!” It’s Feng Xin, who flinches and hisses when he tries to grab the sword as well. “What the fuck, Mu Qing?! What’s going on with you? You looked like a fucking idiot out there!” He yells at a barely aware Mu Qing. “Once you got close enough to it, it instantly went for you. It completely ignored His Highness...”
“Fought…” He coughs up more blood. “Fought it before.”
“Why didn’t you say so before?!” Mu Qing can vaguely hear Xie Lian fighting in the distance. He lets his head drop, body going slightly limp.
“Can’t see.” he says, somewhat hoarsely.
“You can’t…” Feng Xin’s interrupted by a warning yell from Xie Lian.
“Watch out!”
The creature grasps at the hilt of the sword and crudely yanks it out of Mu Qing’s body. Before he’s able to finish letting out a sigh of relief, he’s knocked to the side by a strong slap. He lets out a whimper, body unable to properly heal from the constant barrage of attacks.
Feng Xin swipes Mu Qing’s sabre from his loose grip and starts fighting in earnest, blocking each and every attack coming their way. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do once we get back to the Heavenly Realm, asshole.” he grits out.
Mu Qing feels lightheaded, a sick feeling rising in the back of his throat. He has half a mind to warn the other two of its blinding capabilities, but his mouth can’t form the words properly.
“Don’t look.” he wheezes. “Blinding...”
Feng Xin makes a questioning noise, too focused on protecting Mu Qing to respond properly.
Mu Qing blindly fumbles around, grasping at the hem of Feng Xin’s trousers. Feng Xin pauses for a second to look back, but suddenly yelps when he’s flung to the side. Mu Qing’s picked up once more, the creature holding him up by the neck. He struggles a bit, skin burning under its touch. He can vaguely hear the sound of bones cracking and snapping, probably his own. Mu Qing starts gasping as his airflow is cut off. His hands frantically claw at the grip holding him up, his body starting to grow limp. He’s slammed into the ground a moment later, and Mu Qing nearly blacks out on the spot.
He hangs on long enough to hear Xie Lian yell, “San Lang!” followed by hurried footsteps running his way.
Mu Qing can feel his consciousness slipping despite a fight raging somewhere near him. Before he goes completely under, he can feel himself being picked up by gentle hands.
Having a guide feels nice, he thinks.
-
He comes to sometime later. He panics briefly again when he opens his eyes to complete darkness, but calms down just as quickly. He groans and attempts to sit up, when strong hands push him down again, causing him to flinch.
“Stay.” Feng Xin orders. “You’re really fucking stupid, you know that?”
“Where are we?” Mu Qing asks wearily, completely ignoring whatever Feng Xin just said. His voice is slightly hoarse, and he coughs to clear it.
“My palace. Now will you explain what the fuck’s going on with you?”
Mu Qing doesn’t answer; he instead feels around his body for the wounds he knows are there. His hands touch soft bandages wrapped around his stomach and neck.
The confusion must show on his face, because Feng Xin answers the unasked question. “I bandaged you up.” Feng Xin sniffs. “No matter, just answer my question.”
“I already did.” Mu Qing snarls. “Were you not listening? Or do you want me to say it out loud again for you?”
Feng Xin groans. “Look,” he says as he walks towards him. Mu Qing can feel the bed dip where Feng Xin sits down next to him. “I’m just trying to fucking help, okay? You’ve obviously been struggling and… it’s just difficult to watch, you must realise as much, right?”
Mu Qing rolls his eyes. “Just say I look pathetic.”
“You’re always putting words in my mouth.” Feng Xin retorts. “When did I ever say that? I just don’t particularly like seeing you struggle. Is that so strange?”
Mu Qing plucks a bit at the duvet he’s sitting under. “You know that thing we fought earlier? Ling Wen told me it’s a being of pure spiritual light.” he mumbles, “I fought it myself earlier this week, at Ling Wen’s request.”
Feng Xin doesn’t respond, but hums to indicate that he’s listening. Mu Qing continues to nervously fidget with the blankets as he speaks up again.
“Well, things didn’t quite go as planned. I was alone and this thing or whatever was far stronger than either me or Ling Wen could’ve predicted.” he says, slightly rushed, “Something went wrong and it… well it blinded me.” He gestures towards his eyes. “I can’t see shit, I had no idea it survived that attack either.”
When Feng Xin doesn’t respond, Mu Qing starts to grow restless. “It’s not permanent, Ling Wen told me so, but…”
“So you’re telling me,” Feng Xin interrupts him. “That you’ve been blind for like, over a week now? And that you went into that last fight completely blind as well?” His voice sounds tense for a reason that Mu Qing can’t decipher
Mu Qing shrugs in Feng Xin’s general direction. “I guess.” he says, somewhat defensively.
“He guesses.” Feng Xin mumbles, voice muffled. When Mu Qing makes a questioning noise, his voice moves closer again. “You’re so fucking stupid. Do you want to die? Is that it?”
“Well, no, I-”
“Then don’t do shit like that, again! Do you know how dangerous that was?” Feng Xin shouts. “I guess you wouldn’t have seen it yourself, but your body looked seriously fucked up before I was able to get you out of there.”
Mu Qing clicks his tongue. “Enough mortals live their entire lives blind, why should I cower and hide in fear when it happens to me?” he sneers.
“Mu Qing, those blind mortals aren’t 800-year old Gods privileged enough to have had sight their entire lives.” Feng Xin sounds exasperated. “Isn’t expecting to get used to living without it within seven days a little stupid?”
And, well. Mu Qing can’t exactly argue with that.
“What do you want, Feng Xin?” Mu Qing asks, exhausted. “Why are you pretending to care so much? So what if I act a little stupid?”
A trembling hand is set upon his knee from atop the duvet. Mu Qing’s eyes widen in surprise as Feng Xin speaks. “You didn’t see what you looked like out there, Mu Qing… you were seriously injured, you could’ve died. ” Feng Xin’s hand grips the blankets. “Why wouldn’t I care? Do you think I want you dead? Is that the kind of person you see me as?”
Mu Qing can only gape in Feng Xin’s direction, words hitting him like a ton of bricks. They’ve never…
“Feng Xin…”
“Just promise me,” he pleads, “don’t… don’t do that again.”
“Okay.” Mu Qing breathes, unable to deny Feng Xin when he sounds so earnest. “Okay, I won’t.”
Mu Qing can feel the hand resting on his knee relax slightly. “Unlike whatever agenda you’ve made up about me in your head, I don’t actually hate you, you know?” Feng Xin mumbles, voice suddenly very close.
Mu Qing rolls his eyes. “I don’t think about you nearly enough to make up any kind of agenda about you.” He scoffs. “Don’t think yourself so important, arrogance isn’t a good look on you.” Nevermind that he’s not actually able to see it.
“Tsk, whatever helps you sleep at night.” Feng Xin says, and this Mu Qing can work with. Bickering, arguing, this is familiar, unlike whatever weird mood Feng Xin had created earlier.
“Am I right in assuming that only Ling Wen and now me know of this?” Feng Xin asks. Mu Qing pointedly doesn’t look in Feng Xin’s direction and, really, that’s answer enough. “Not even your subordinates?”
“What was I supposed to say? ‘Hello everyone, I currently can’t see shit. Don’t expect me to look you in the eyes, because I won’t’?” Mu Qing says lamely.
“Well, yeah.” Feng Xin laughs when Mu Qing gives him a hard shove. “But seriously, you know I wouldn’t have judged you or anything, right? You could’ve come to me.”
“It’s just… When have we ever asked one another for help?” Mu Qing says.
Feng Xin stays quiet for a moment before sitting up. “Come here.” he says, reaching for Mu Qing.
“Huh? Ah-!” Mu Qing is dragged up and unceremoniously dropped in Feng Xin’s lap, sitting in the middle of the bed.
“Your hair looks like shit,” Feng Xin says, reaching up to untie his ponytail, which has long since gone askew. “I think you’d be popping several blood vessels if you could see yourself right now, so let me fix it.”
Mu Qing’s long hair falls down his back once Feng Xin’s unfastened the tie. He can feel hands gathering strands, looking them over. Mu Qing’s body stays rigid and tense, every touch making him twitch slightly.
“Relax,” Feng Xin whispers, voice so very close. “I’ll try not to hurt you, but I’m not very good at shit like this so…” he finishes sheepishly.
Mu Qing wants to protest, wants to struggle against the gentle hands carding through his hair because this isn’t them, isn’t how they act around each other. He should protest, lest he accidentally lets something slip, yet he finds himself melting into Feng Xin’s touch.
“It really is as smooth as it looks.” Feng Xin mumbles as he procures a brush from God knows where to start carefully brushing through the knots and tangles. Mu Qing shivers with every touch from Feng Xin’s careful hands, body slightly more sensitive after having gone without one of its senses for a few days.
He’s a little rough with his movements, clearly not used to brushing someone else’s hair. Mu Qing winces slightly when Feng Xin tries to undo a particularly stubborn knot. “Sorry.” He whispers, and Mu Qing’s heart positively melts.
An action so unfitting for a man like Feng Xin, still somehow feeling so much like him. Mu Qing lets out a sigh of contentment, untensing his body a little, trying to not fight against the conflicting feelings inside of him so much. He can indulge, just this once, he thinks.
Feng Xin works meticulously until his fingers can run through Mu Qing’s long hair without interruption. He sits back, Mu Qing following the movement. He leans over to rummage through the drawers and put away his things, Mu Qing following the movement. Once Feng Xin gets up, Mu Qing tries to not be bothered by the sudden lack of contact. That would be embarrassing.
Mu Qing’s settled back against the headboard, Feng Xin fumbling through some drawers elsewhere in the room. “Do you mind if I check over your bandages again? You slept for a while and I’m just a little worried about, like infections or something…” Feng Xin scratches at the back of his head. “Just let me check over them, will you?”
Mu Qing is at a loss for words. Who the fuck is standing in this room with him right now?
“You…” Mu Qing starts hesitantly. “You’re Feng Xin, right? Am I hallucinating?” Mu Qing lays the back of his hand over his forehead.
“The fuck?” Feng Xin whirls around to stare at Mu Qing. “Just humour me, alright? Don’t be a dick.”
Mu Qing chuckles and leans back a bit against the cushions. “Do as you please. I’ll try not to complain,” Mu Qing says. “just don’t cause any more damage than there already is.”
“You’re acting like I wasn’t the one who dressed all of your injuries in the first place.” Feng Xin scoffs.
A moment later he can hear Feng Xin walk his way, footsteps louder than usual. A few things are set down on the duvet before Feng Xin himself sits down as well. He carefully unwraps the bandages, throwing out the dirtied cloth.
“I’m sorry if it stings, I just gotta…” Feng Xin says softly before dabbing some ointments on the wounds, cleaning them off before rewrapping them.
He’s been very considerate, suspiciously so, Mu Qing thinks. He wants to sink back into the soft cushions supporting his back and let Feng Xin’s strong, yet gentle hands work their magic on his bruised and battered body. Wants to let himself be taken care of by one of the few people he’d trust his life with. Yet, there’s a voice in the back of his head telling him something’s up, always telling him he can’t let his guard down around anyone.
“I know what you’re thinking.” Feng Xin surprises him out of his thoughts. He continues his work, acting as if he hadn’t spoken up just now at all.
“Oh? I wasn’t aware you developed psychic abilities.” Mu Qing rolls his eyes. “Do enlighten me, then.”
Feng Xin doesn’t answer immediately. He’s still wrapping up the last bits of exposed charred flesh, slow and careful. Mu Qing has gotten used enough to the touches that they don’t make him flinch anymore, but when a large hand settles on his cheek he twitches in surprise.
“You think you know me so well,” Feng Xin starts, so close Mu Qing can feel his warm breath ghost along his ear. “you think I’m acting… suspiciously out of character right now, aren’t you? You sometimes forget that I know you just as well as you know me.”
“Feng Xin…?” Mu Qing breathes out.
“I’m doing this because I care, I promise.” Feng Xin says. “I promise there’s nothing else. I saw you in pain, and stepped in to help, it’s as simple as that.”
They stay quiet for a second after that, Mu Qing too shocked by Feng Xin’s words, how sincere he sounded when he said them and just… how close he is to respond properly. He can feel Feng Xin lean in a bit closer, his breath washing over his lips. Mu Qing closes his eyes, the action almost automatic, and lets his mouth drop open slightly.
Then, just before their lips can connect, Feng Xin jumps back as if struck by lightning. All Mu Qing can hear is Feng Xin’s frantic breathing as he tries to compose himself. Mu Qing’s unsure whether he should be disappointed or relieved.
He raises a hand to his lips, lightly touching them, and decides that he’s disappointed.
“I’m sorry, that was Dianxia. He asked how you were doing so I’m just… catching him up to speed. Yeah.” Feng Xin says a moment later, sounding breathless. “You must be hungry. Or cold. I’ll go and get you… something. Be back in a second.” A door slams shut a moment later.
Mu Qing doesn’t even try to stop him from leaving, too embarrassed by what just happened. He definitely seemed far too eager just now. He buries his face in his hands and groans.
He’s so fucked.
-
Rumours spread quickly throughout the Heavens. Life can be rather mundane when you spend every single day going through the exact same routine. Thus, many Heavenly Officials jump on the chance to hear about some drama, anything for a bit of entertainment.
Currently, murmurs spread from mouth to ear about a certain someone being seen at the Palace of General Xuan Zhen more and more often. Don’t those two hate each other? Then, why is he always carrying food with him when he goes?
It’s been a week and Feng Xin feels just about ready to punch the next Heavenly Official who speaks right in the mouth. He scowls at the random Gods staring at him as he walks to Mu Qing’s palace, holding a basket filled with fresh fruits. He spent hours haggling on the markets to buy these at an affordable price, the prices they charge for one slice of melon is frankly criminal, because he knew Mu Qing would complain if he brought in anything of lesser quality.
Mu Qing’s lucky that Feng Xin’s in love with him.
And how embarrassing is that? Being in love with someone who barely considers you a friend, if even that. He even nearly kissed him! It’s a small mercy that Mu Qing wasn’t able to see him at the time.
He can hear the sound of a sabre swishing around coming from the training grounds. Mu Qing has continued spending all of his time there, even after Feng Xin had offered him guidance outside of his palace, mumbling something about it being embarrassing to have to rely on him.
Once he rounds the corner to the open fields, he can see Mu Qing whacking away at several training dummies. His accuracy while blinded has only improved in the past weeks. Feng Xin makes his footsteps extra loud, so as to not startle Mu Qing with his sudden appearance.
Mu Qing turns around, looking in Feng Xin’s general direction. His face is slightly flushed from the exercise, his chest heaving as he pants for air. “Feng Xin?” He calls.
Feng Xin swallows heavily, and walks up to Mu Qing. “Have you been training this entire time? You gotta eat something, Mu Qing.” He pushes the basket towards him. “I brought these for you.”
Mu Qing gingerly picks up a few grapes, rolling them around in his hands. He puts one in his mouth to try, chewing deliberately. Feng Xin feels oddly agitated watching him, and he looks away with a cough. “And?” he says, voice a bit hoarse.
“Not bad, I guess.” Mu Qing says as he pops another one into his mouth.
Feng Xin lets out a sigh of relief. “I suppose that’s the best I’m gonna get from you. Here, come sit.” He pushes Mu Qing down onto the grass.
Mu Qing squawks, batting Feng Xin’s hands away. “I can sit down perfectly fine by myself. You don’t have to do everything for me.” he says indignantly.
Feng Xin sits down beside Mu Qing, rummaging through the basket to look for a strawberry. “Mn, just indulge me, will you?” he says, “I don’t often get to do these kinda things for you.” He bites down on a piece of fruit.
“What? Do you get off on me acting helpless or something?” Mu Qing says dryly, crossing his arms.
Feng Xin chokes on the strawberry in his mouth. “The fuck? No!” He wipes at his chin. “How’d you even come up with that?!”
Feng Xin pauses when he finally looks towards Mu Qing. His cheeks are still flushed slightly red, now for a different reason, and he’s pointedly not looking in Feng Xin’s direction. He coughs into his fist a bit sheepishly, uncrossing his arms. “Well, whatever. What fruits did you bring?” He starts rummaging through the basket blindly.
Feng Xin grabs at Mu Qing’s hand in the basket, causing Mu Qing’s breath to hitch slightly. He moves his hands to the different fruits laid out inside, letting Mu Qing feel which ones they are.
“Mn, they’re all my favourites.” Mu Qing says as his hand glides over a small tin filled with berries.
“Took me fucking ages to find all of these for a reasonable price.” Feng Xin says.
Mu Qing picks up a handful of the berries, fidgeting with them in his hands a little. “Thank you.” he says softly.
“What was that?”
“I said fuck you,” Mu Qing shoves the berries in his mouth. “I’m not saying it again.”
Feng Xin laughs. “Whatever you say.” he huffs out. Mu Qing twitches when a hand settles on his knee. “You’re welcome.” Feng Xin adds.
Mu Qing huffs, swatting at Feng Xin’s hand still on him. Many of the past few days have been spent like this, the two of them doing rather mundane things together. Eating, doing Mu Qing’s skin care routine, brushing his hair, Mu Qing has let Feng Xin do whatever he wants without too much complaining.
Feng Xin’s grateful. He’s lost a lot of people important to him due to plain ignorance before, all of them he still regrets to this day. To be so close to it happening again, to one of the people he considers so important to him.
Feng Xin shivers slightly, his hand tightening on Mu Qing’s knee. Mu Qing makes a questioning noise, but isn’t able to question Feng Xin’s behaviour before a fresh peach is shoved into his mouth. “Here, try this.”
Mu Qing frowns, chewing quickly. After he swallows, he pounces on Feng Xin, hitting him with blow after blow. “What’s wrong with you?”
They roll around in the grass, Mu Qing tapping out a while later when he starts feeling too disorientated.
Much of the rest of the days after are spent in a similar manner. Other Heavenly Officials haven’t become any less interested in Feng Xin’s constant trips to the Palace of Xuan Zhen, though they’re less persistent in spreading rumours out of fear of Feng Xin genuinely snapping.
This time, when Feng Xin passes through the palace gates, he’s met by an ecstatic looking Mu Qing. He stomps his feet to alert Mu Qing of his presence, and Mu Qing whips around immediately at the sound.
“Feng Xin!” Mu Qing runs up to him. “My sight has started coming back, finally!”
Feng Xin’s face twists a bit, a hint of disappointment rising in the back of his mind, though he feels genuine relief at the look on Mu Qing’s face, as well. “That’s great! So you…” He trails off.
“I still can’t see shit.” Mu Qing says. “It’s just dull, dark colours for now, but Ling Wen did say that it’d take a bit more time for my sight to come back fully. Maybe glasses would work…?” He taps a finger on his chin. “I have seen a lot of mortals wear those before.”
“Ah…” The thought of seeing Mu Qing with glasses is… Ah, well. Haha.
Feng Xin truly is in danger. He clears his throat and tries to make his voice sound as normal as possible.
“Well, that’s great! You probably won’t need me anymore, then?” he laughs, though it falls a bit flat.
Mu Qing’s demeanour seems to dim a bit at that, and he awkwardly crosses his arms. “I mean, if you’re so fed up with me then I’m not forcing you to stay.” he snaps, voice lacking its usual heat.
Feng Xin snorts. “I was more thinking that you’d be sick of me.” He says, raising an eyebrow. “Are you not?”
“Well, I suppose you’re not… intolerable.” Mu Qing says slowly and Fen Xin huffs out another laugh. “Would you stop laughing at me?! Be useful and take me back to the mortal realm to look for something that’ll help my sight, maybe Dianxia knows of something.”
Xie Lian, as it turns out, does know of something. He’s confused by the request but doesn’t otherwise pry. He sends them off to a merchant who specialises in contraptions meant to correct vision. Mu Qing himself isn’t quite able to see the products offered, so Feng Xin points them out for him.
“What’d he call these again… monocles or something? Like a little glass circle, I think.” Feng Xin explains. He picks one up, looking it over carefully. “The merchant explained that there’s a bunch of different ones meant for different people’s needs, you could try some if you want?” He offers the monocle he’s holding to Mu Qing.
Mu Qing hums, taking the small glass from Feng Xin’s hand. They go through the assortment together, Feng Xin pointing out the difference between the ones Mu Qing tries on. They find one after a while that, though not perfect, works well enough.
Mu Qing holds the monocle in place, smiling cheekily up at Feng Xin. “I almost forgot how ugly you look, kinda unfortunate you’re the first sight I kinda see after a month.” he drawls.
Feng Xin barks out a laugh. He can’t really be upset with Mu Qing when he looks so fucking cute, the glass making him look even more like a Civil God than usual.
Feng Xin watches him as the merchant explains to Mu Qing how to properly wear the monocle. Watches as Mu Qing bites his lip in concentration, attempting to follow the merchant’s movements with his limited sight. Mu Qing smiles slightly when he finally gets it, the monocle perched between his cheekbone and brow. Feng Xin flushes a bit at the sight, looking away with a cough before he says something stupid.
“Well?” Mu Qing asks, drawing Feng Xin’s attention back to him. He’s looking into a mirror, inspecting himself as best as he can without being able to see properly. “How do I look? I kind of like it, to be honest. Maybe I’ll incorporate it into my usual style, even when I fully regain my sight.” He looks sideways to where Feng Xin is standing. “...What do you think?” He asks suddenly, voice quiet.
Though he sounded cocky before, this question feels more vulnerable, as if Feng Xin’s opinion really matters to him. Feng Xin swallows heavily, praying his cheeks don’t look as red as they feel.
“I think they look… good on you.” he says carefully, and somewhat stiffly.
Mu Qing frowns at that. “Just good? Mn, I shouldn’t expect you to know what’d look fashionable, anyways.” Mu Qing pouts a bit, “I’ll get this one, for now. I can always come back for other ones at a later date, I suppose.”
They pay and head back up to the Heavens. Mu Qing continues to wear the newly purchased monocle, to Feng Xin’s dismay. He can’t help but steal looks every now and then, quickly looking away when Mu Qing meets his gaze.
Can you blame him, really? Mu Qing hasn’t changed his appearance in nearly 800 years and, well…
He looks incredibly cute with the glass on. It’s beyond distracting.
Something Feng Xin is truly experiencing during a meeting between all Martial Gods some days later, Mu Qing sitting across from him.
“General Nan Yang? General?” Someone snaps their fingers right in front of his face, causing him to startle back to awareness. “Feng Xin? Are you listening?” Pei Ming asks, somewhat miffed.
“I’m sorry, I was… distracted.” He scratches at the back of his neck. “What was the question?”
Pei Ming raises an eyebrow, following Feng Xin’s line of sight. He’s apparently found what he was looking for as he turns back to Feng Xin with a shit-eating grin plastered all over his face.
“Oh, I was merely wondering how the cooperation between you and General Xuan Zhen has been? Well, I presume?” he says slyly.
Feng Xin can hear Mu Qing make a confused noise and his cheeks grow warm. He coughs pointedly, shooting a sharp glare towards Pei Ming.
“That isn’t relevant for this meeting” Feng Xin bites out. “Now, if you would repeat your actual question.”
Pei Ming laughs, “You’re no fun.”
The rest of the meeting goes by without a hitch, Feng Xin fully focusing on not looking at Mu Qing and not retaining a single thing that’s said. He’d say he did an okay enough job.
Feng Xin stands up to leave, ready to follow the other Heavenly Officials out of the palace, when Mu Qing boldly walks up to him. Feng Xin pauses and waits for Mu Qing to catch up. He stops right in front of him, looking up without saying anything, squinting slightly.
Feng Xin is the one to break the silence. “Is something wrong…?” he asks hesitantly.
“What was that all about?”
Feng Xin raises an eyebrow. “I have absolutely no clue what you’re on about.”
Mu Qing frowns, impatiently tapping his foot on the ground. “With Pei Ming, you dumbass,” he sneers. “do you enjoy acting stupid or something?”
Feng Xin lets out a sigh and drags a hand down his face. “It’s nothing to concern yourself with. Can I go back to my palace now?”
Mu Qing only frowns harder at that, looking to the side as he says, “I feel like it is something to concern myself with, though. You’ve been avoiding me for the past few days.”
Feng Xin notices a hint of upset in Mu Qing’s voice, and swallows heavily. He has to talk himself out of this, lest he says something embarrassing. “I told you as it is. Not everything is about you, despite what you may believe yourself.” he says, voice clipped.
Mu Qing scoffs. “Whatever you say. Go on, leave then.” he says, his soft tone not matching the harsh words spoken.
Feng Xin doesn’t spare Mu Qing a second glance as he swiftly makes his way back to his own palace. He slams the door to his study closed, a clear message to his Palace Officials that he doesn’t wish to be disturbed. He pours himself over paperwork in the hopes of forgetting that disastrous conversation.
He’s able to work in silence for a few hours when a tentative knock at his door catches his attention. He sighs and moves to open the door, frowning when he’s met with the sigh of Mu Qing.
“Mu Qing? What do you wa-” He’s interrupted by Mu Qing’s lips crashing into his, a muffled, startled noise ringing out between them. Mu Qing’s hands hold onto Feng Xin’s robes tightly, holding him close.
The kiss is chaste, Mu Qing pulling away as quickly as he had pulled Feng Xin in. Mu Qing looks to the floor and says nothing. Feng Xin doesn’t waste another second before pulling Mu Qing back in, leaning into the kiss this time. It lasts longer than the first one, Feng Xin being the first one to pull away. It takes a moment for reality to set in, for Feng Xin to realise that something he’s been wanting to do for decades genuinely just happened.
Feng Xin takes a quick step back once he comes back to awareness, blinking quickly. “What the fuck.” He says, causing Mu Qing to startle slightly. “What was that?”
Mu Qing stubbornly refuses to look up, but starts talking. “It’s what you wanted, right? Don’t lie to me, Feng Xin, and don’t hide anything from me either.” His words sound rushed.
Feng Xin stares for a second. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I talked to Pei Ming.” Feng Xin stiffens at this, and Mu Qing smiles slightly. “I knew you were hiding something and I was willing to go to fucking Pei Ming to find out what. You like me, don’t you? He said he’s only ever seen you staring at me.” He says, more confident than before
“And you just believed him?!” Feng Xin says, exasperated. “Since when do you believe what Pei Ming says?!”
“But he’s right, isn’t he?” Mu Qing continues right on. “I’m not stupid, Feng Xin, all Pei Ming did was confirm something I already knew.”
“And you thought the best way to confirm this was to kiss me?!” Feng Xin raises a hand and lightly touches his lip. “You… You kissed me. What the fuck, you kissed me! Do you like me as well, or something?!”
“Are you stupid? Isn’t that fucking obvious, you dumbass?” Mu Qing hisses, his ears tinged red.
Feng Xin’s eyes widen, and he lets out a near hysterical laugh before pulling Mu Qing back into another kiss. “Well you were right.” he breathes against Mu Qing’s lips. “I do like you, have liked you for decades actually.” he says, more sincere than ever.
Mu Qing doesn’t say any more, only leaning back in for one more kiss.
This one lasts until hours into the night.
-
Seeing General Nan Yang and General Xuan Zhen, now with his sight mostly returned, together became a regular occurrence after that day. Most Heavenly officials lost interest in the pair after a few weeks, having already expected something like this to happen eventually. Only a certain someone raises his eyebrow at the display he comes across often, now.
It’s a few days later, when Xie Lian visits the palace of Nan Yang for official business, that The Crown Prince finds out the truth.
“You two are dating? And you were blind the entire time?! ”