Chapter Text
┌── •✧• ──┐
The Wedding of Dianxia and the Supreme Ghost King was bound to be ostentatious. The idea of shameless endless celebration overbearing the Heavenly Realm, a gross demonstration of Crimson Rain Sought Flower’s love for His Royal Highness wrought Mu Qing’s mind with endless headaches. Whenever he saw a Middle Court Official breeze by with red and white flowers clutched to their chest, or the sweeping fragrance of floral, he would roll his eyes, and with a flutter of his cape that did not invite any inquiry, he stormed into his Palace.
His steps were light and floaty as he walked across his estate. Unlike the upcoming celebration, his Palace was, thankfully, sensible. The floors were polished like fine jade, and the rim and columns of his building spared only the finest silver and dark oak details- the finest of material, the most tasteful of details. His subordinates paid no attention to the steady roiling ruckus that took place outside the Palace, they spent their time on productive matters, such as working through the constant flow of paperwork, or shaping up matters concerning the re-construction of the Heavenly Realm that he didn’t trust Ling Wen to handle yet. Of course, a good handful of his court was working tirelessly on the details of the unnamed “event”, but were wise enough to keep their General out of it.
His steps slowed in the tranquil atmosphere of his own residence. This was the only place left where he could relax.
Then, a soft ping of access request resounded in his mind. Mu Qing grimaced and pressed a finger to his temple.
Feng Xin. What do you want.
He could feel the presence on the other line slacken with shock a little, before pounding into his head with renewed vengeance. What the hell is up with that attitude? I didn’t even say anything yet!
Mu Qing rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue. Your presence itself aggravates me.
That’s your problem for being so stingy! Feng Xin shot back at him. What did I tell you about ‘acting normally’? Where the hell did that forlorn attitude go?! You haven’t changed your bad attitude at all- you’ve been acting worse than ever! Seriously, f-f-friends my ass.
Mu Qing removed his hand from his temple and silently exploded in rage. Many court members snapped their head up, sensing something was amiss. They took a cautious glance at the frozen silhouette of their general. Black, menacing rage rolled off of him like thick, evil smoke- there was only one Heavenly Official he could be communicating to right now.
Terrified they’d be the next victim of their General’s savage rage, they turned back to their work. A few even squeezed their eyes, praying, You got this, general…! Show that pathetic ornery Idiot who really is boss…!
But Mu Qing had dealt with this infuriating thorn at his side for 800 years. So what if Feng Xin had a new piece of horribly embarrassing information to lord over Mu Qing’s head every time he wanted to rile him up? Qing wasn’t the rash, embarrassed teen he used to be- or so he told himself. The truth was, whenever he talked to this particular individual, it was as though ascension, time and wars did nothing to stop the writhing, embarrassed insecurity of 800 years past self. It was truly mortifying, but Mu Qing did not dare lose face in front of his palace members.
He pivoted and stormed angrily down the hall, venting spiritual energy with every stomp of his heel. He always got agitated whenever he talked to this particular individual, but this time, he would not let it show.
I thought I told you to never bring that up again, Mu Qing said coldly. He hoped maybe Feng Xin would get the hint and back off. It didn’t have the intended effect. Instead of reigning in his emotions, he felt Feng Xin crack, and felt rumbling laughter on the other line. A furious hot flush raged over Mu Qing’s features, an unfortunate side-effect of his pale complexion.
Somehow, Feng Xin must’ve sensed it, because then Feng Xin laughed even harder.
Mu Qing savagely juts his hand to his temple and lashed out with as much fury as he could- without the man standing beside him, ready to be strangled, he had no better way to make him feel it- but he knew the array would not spit acidic fury down his rival’s neck, it wasn’t meant for emotion transfer, after all, only for communication. His emotions would just dangle uselessly around the man, leaving him unaffected. He switched strategies, choosing to inseat growl into the array.
If you’re just wasting my time, Ju Yang, I will boot you out of this communication array right now.
At the mention of his (fortunate, for Mu Qing) dead name, Feng Xin immediately snapped at out of his delusional sniggering to blast him with a heated retort. But, apparently, Mu Qing’s threat to kick him out was too compelling, because his next words took a different turn.
Yeah, ha-ha, sorry.
Mu Qing paused and blinked at his hand, his eyebrows furrowed.
But Feng Xin’s inner dialogue continued. Anyways, this is serious, and I need to talk to you. I’m heading over to your palace right now, so you better be there when I come.
Are you serious, Ju- ugh. Mu Qing couldn’t bring himself to insult him with the same thing twice in a row, and instead he bristled. What is this disrespect? I could be on a very important mission right now, so who are you to demand my presence?
It’s not about me, alright? It’s about Dianxia. Mu Qing knew all too well what the implication was- ‘It’s about Dianxia, so I know you’ll do it.’ Mu Qing opened his mouth to set him straight with a rebuttal, but Feng Xin continued saying, and if you were really in a perilous situation, you wouldn’t have dealt with me this long.
Mu Qing clenched his fist. Who said I wanted to deal with you, you insulting, irresponsible-
As if I wanted to deal with you either! Do you think I want to ask for your help?
You really must be in a poor position to stoop so low as to request your rival’s support, Mu Qing mused. I truly pity your followers…. Who wants to follow a god that would grovel at the feet of their rival? For your sake, I hope word of this doesn’t spread down below.
What the fuck? Don’t twist my words, I’m not fucking grovelling! I’m just- this matter- Mu Qing heard a string of obscenities to his great pleasure. Feng Xin paused, as though contemplating whether he should save face, but his aura had blackened to a mixture of rage and hopelessness. Just fucking be here.
And just like that, Mu Qing was left alone in his head. Thank fucking goodness.
Then two knocks reverberated through the halls, and Mu Qing was shocked to the past for a second. That was the same way Feng Xin knocked on His Highness’s door when he wasn’t sure his presence was wanted, usually cropping up when Mu Ming was in the process of dressing His Highness. Feng Xin had long stopped being polite, as he also stopped being shy around the prince’s unclothed form. Nowadays, Feng Xin would barge in the doors without a care, having seen too many things and been beaten too many times to be sensitized to anything Mu Qing could throw at him anymore.
It was a knock of a gone era, a time where Mu Qing too used to knock like that- twice, and no more. A knock that showed you respected someone’s personal space. A time when they were both servants of the Kingdom of Xianle. Hearing Feng Xin knock was so unnamely bizarre that a sudden slight apprehension rolled over Mu Qing’s psyche.
“You aren’t welcome here,” he heard an icy cold female voice say. “General Xuan Zhen is not accepting any visitors at this moment. Especially not you, General Nan Yang.”
Mu Qing briefly closed his eyes. He trained his subordinates well- they knew Mu Qing’s moods so well they could feel them, and they knew that every single mood of his- joyful, annoyed, or focused- always meant that Feng Xin was not welcome. At this moment, though, their dutiful subservience became truly unfortunate because the annoying man wasn’t even trying to barge into his palace as he usually did, when he wanted to give Mu Qing a piece of his mind. Mu Qing saw him through the crack of his giant doors, peeking in obediently, as though waiting to be allowed in.
Which meant Mu Qing himself would have to allow him in.
Ugh.
Irritation was carved on every inch of his flawless face. This man never stopped being a huge irritation. Yet, he wasn’t going to let Feng Xin wait outside his doors all day like a sad puppy. That would be humiliating for Mu Qing. He couldn’t deface his Palace by leaving stinking trash to ferment outside.
“Let it be.”
The subordinate at the door looked at him, stricken. “But, General, this is-“
Mu Qing narrowed his eyes. “Do not make me repeat myself.”
The subordinate slowly looked back to Feng Xin before stiffening himself up slowly. “You’re extremely lucky today. The General will let you in.” She sniffed. “Don’t drag your shoes on the floor. They’ll leave a mark.”
“That’s impossible… my shoes are clean. Don’t look at me like that- I always keep them clean!” Feng Xin protested, rubbing a hand in his hair. His oddly obedient behavior sparked something in Mu Qing. He walked up to the brunette, built man with his arms crossed, an indifferent sneer marking his face.
“Not true. You’re staining my palace with your impurity.” Mu Qing sniffed. He pointed to Feng Xin’s boot and Feng Xin lifted it with a huff of exasperation. His case and point. The rest of the floor shone brilliantly, but where Feng Xin’s boot laid, there was a dull footprint-shaped spot of matte. Against the glossy complexion of the tiles, the footprint really did stick out.
Feng Xin eyes boggled. “No fucking way.” He looked around, trying to place another offender, but the quiet flow of footsteps within the Mu Qing palace left no dull mark on the glossy floor. “That’s just… too picky!” He looked at Mu Qing with horror. “You’re insane. You’re actually insane. How-?!”
Soft lining on our boots, Mu Qing knew, a special type of cloth. All his subordinates knew clothing materials like the back of their hands, and they all knew the importance of a clear space for a clear mind.
“It doesn’t surprise me,” Mu Qing sighed regretfully, “that you don’t know how to keep a place clean. After all, it takes integrity to break out of habits. Still, General Nan Yang, even 800 years should be enough to break out of your pigsty habits, don’t you think?”
Quiet snickering broke out within the groups of working officials near earshot. Feng Xin’s ears burned, and he took an accusatory step towards Mu Qing. “I-“
“-don’t even pretend its untrue,” Mu Qing gloated, “I’ve seen the sorry state of your Palace. You must really be missing the feeling of servants cleaning up after you, don’t you?”
Feng Xin said nothing, his face red with fury. Then, he burst out, “Are you- I have people that fucking clean! It’s not that fucking bad! You’re being ridiculous! I- there’s no fucking dirt on the FLOOR for crying out loud!”
His outburst echoed throughout the halls, darkening the mood distastefully. Everyone shot dirty looks at Feng Xin, probably itching to say something, but not daring to do so before their General did. Their prized General Xuan Zhen only quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t scatter such unoriginal profanities in my hallways.”
“Don’t make me fucking speak in this hallway, then,” Feng Xin hissed, pushing past Mu Qing to storm further into the Palace. Mu Qing clicked his tongue, obviously annoyed at the indiscretion, and followed Feng Xin at an even pace, a displeased expression lining his face all throughout.
“I can’t fucking deal with you,” Feng Xin muttered. “I really, really can’t fucking deal with you.”
“Yes, yes, you tell me every day,” Mu Qing said dryly, sticking up an eyebrow. If Feng Xin wanted to talk to him, he chose the best place for Mu Qing to have a conversation with him. The Xuan Zhen palace was Mu Qing’s territory, and here, Mu Qing had the upper hand. It wasn’t every day that he could see Feng Xin worked up so badly. And the best part? He couldn’t do anything about it.
Feng Xin was silent for a few more heated steps, as though steeping in thought. Halfway throw the hallway he clicked his tongue and seethed, ”Shit!”
Mu Qing was quietly extremely pleased. He thanked whatever issue was so troubling that Feng Xin was coming to Mu Qing of all people, even if the problem was His Highness Xie Lian. The fact that Mu Qing was the only person Feng Xin could come to whenever that white-clothed headache came into the picture made him very, very happy. The opportunities to make him irritated were endless.
Feng Xin twisted and turned through a few corridors before Mu Qing snapped out of his quiet glee and noticed what pathway they were taking. They had just passed the sage tapestry of the bonsai tree before Mu Qing grabbed his collar.
“We are not going that way,” he said steely, before marching in the opposite direction.
His ears only burned for a little bit. There was no way he was going to let this asshole walk them both into his own room. He didn’t want to deal with the fact that Feng knew his Palace so well that he could subconsciously map out the way to his own freaking bedroom. He supposed this was inevitable, with 800 years of constant bickering and breaking and entering, but he couldn’t help but feel defeated.
Nor did he want to deal with the idea of being alone together in his private quarters. Nope.
Thankfully, Feng Xin stayed uncharacteristically complaint as Mu Qing dragged him towards another private, but much less personal, location. His courtyard- The Xuan Zhen Garden.
It was one of Mu Qing’s favorite locations, though he never mentioned it to anyone. Historically Xuan Zhen’s garden served as a place for Mu Qing to meditate and focus on his cultivation, especially after emotionally charged events, such as wars, or literally any instance with His Highness Xie Lian or Feng Xin. Every time Mu Qing entered fresh from a battle, he would sit cross-legged on a stone, and close his eyes. To his populace, it’d appear as though their General was conducting an intensely serene ritual in silence. In his head, however, he usually repeated the following mantra: Feng Xin is beneath me. I will not stoop to his ornery standards. Feng Xin is beneath me.
Every time he got into a battle with Feng Xin, he was always left hot and irritated, and slightly displaced, as though a part of himself was stolen away. Loud screaming matches always bothered him, especially since Mu Qing took pride in his cool-headed, untouchable reputation. That’s why, after most fights, he storms to his garden. It was a place where he separated himself from Feng Xin’s distasteful conduct. He knew that Feng Xin often stormed off to break objects if their verbal battle left them both in shambles, so to mediate his mind to stillness was yet another way of holding himself above his rival.
Because of its purpose, the Xuan Zhen garden was tainted with these memories of restlessness. But the spiritual energy of his courtyard was pure, it was fed only by Mu Qing’s most devout followers, and thus never failed to calm or bring clarity to the Southwest God.
It was ironic that this was the location he dragged Feng Xin to now. There was perhaps no other place in the Palace where his name was mentally dragged so thoroughly- and that meant a lot, considering that this was the location that harbored strictly middle-court officials who adopted Mu Qing’s distaste for everything Southeast.
Mu Qing looked around.
Other than this guy, the garden was actually quite pretty. And private. Mu Qing’s Junior Officials would never step foot on this property. Mu Qing could not be disturbed while meditating, after all.
The instant both of their feet lay on soft grass, Mu Qing let go and Feng Xin stumbled forward. Mu Qing rolled his eyes. The other martial god was clearly acting overdramatic- Mu Qing hadn’t man-handled them that roughly- but he didn’t have any more patience for whatever other useless thing would come out of Feng Xin’s mouth. He simply crossed his arms and watched with a quirked eyebrow as Feng Xin recovered his senses and turned around.
“Out with it. What do you want.” Mu Qing quipped.
Feng Xin was in a middle of a retort, probably something idiotic like- ‘you didn’t have to manhandle me like that’ – and yes, Mu Qing certainly did, he was not behaving properly in his Palace-
Instead, his face twisted into something open and amused. “Ha! You sound the exact same, within or without the array.”
Mu Qing’s expression deepened into a frown, and he felt his ears vaguely go pink. Seriously, screw his pale complexion! “What did you expect…? Mental projection is hardly any different than talking, it only utilizes a different method to communicate…” His face suddenly darkened. “Unless you’re implying my thoughts are different than the words I say?!”
“God, what? No, it’s nothing like that.” Feng Xin said, his eyes still alight in amusement. Mu Qing absolutely revolted him.
“Then what is the hold up? In fact-“ if the array is no different than speaking to me anyways- “Why didn’t you just talk to me in the array?”
‘You really didn’t have to come all this way,’ Mu Qing was about to say, but the statement died before it reached his lips. Something about that sentence didn’t sit right with him and he had to bite it down.
Feng Xin shook his head. “No, I absolutely had to come and see you for this matter.”
That something burned right up and out of Mu Qing. He turned red and snapped, “why?”
“I thought I told you already!” Feng Xin yelled. “It has something to do with Dianxia!”
Fucking Dianxia again! Mu Qing broiled. “Just spit it out already, you blithering-“
“I’m not happy about it either!”
“Then don’t come to me for help if you’re going to be so difficult about all of this!”
“It’s just-“ Feng Xin grit his teeth- “…..”
“What was that?!” Mu Qing snarled. His heart jolted at the back of his chest in fear.
“A gift.” Feng Xin hissed. “For….” He gestured to the walls of the Xuan Zhen Garden, and Mu Qing’s heart froze. Then, he lifted his hands higher, gesturing beyond the walls, and Mu Qing’s heart settled as he thought of the instigator of his earlier headache, before Feng Xin had to come and make it worse…
…wait…. As Mu Qing considered what he was implying…. Seriously…. That was still bad, wasn’t it?!
“A gift… For the wed…. For Crimson-Sought Rain Flower?!” Mu Qing blanched with horror.
Feng Xin nodded gravely, knitting his brows together with a heavy index finger and thumb. He couldn’t even bring himself to say it.
What a horrible situation indeed!
The two of them stood there quietly for a while. Feng Xin kept rubbing his face, as though he could massage the knowledge of their upcoming wedding out of his system. Mu Qing only gaped, trying to dissuade the waves of nausea catapulting through his system.
“As…. His Highness is a dear friend of mine………. I have been… trying to…. Come up with a suitable…. Wedding gift.” Feng Xin said eventually.
“So….. seeing as we both share a history with… His Highness… paired with your hopeless gifting sense…. Really, your hopeless taste in general…. You decided to try to drag me into this…” Mu Qing said unhappily back. Just to confirm.
Feng Xin stiffly rearranged himself to face Mu Qing head on. Mu Qing felt as though he could laugh at Feng Xin’s deathly complexion; if only the situation wasn’t so bleak. “I hope…. In your dark, pitiful heart…. You actually meant what you said… that day…. At Mount Tonglu…. and act upon your honor…. As a similar friend of His Highness…. To help me pick out a gift.”
“Of course I meant it”, Mu Qing immediately snapped, before crossing his arms again to pout deeply, his dark ponytail swaying slightly by his ankles. “Just…”
Just why don’t you make your own gift, and Mu Qing can just handle his own, you obtuse idiot?!
“Why don’t you…”
Mu Qing winced. He tried to say it, he really did. But he couldn’t. What the hell was wrong with him?!
“….”
“What was that?” Feng Xin said.
‘Why don’t you beg for my help’ Mu Qing had whispered, but he couldn’t stand to repeat it. He only looked down at the ground, his eyes wide with shock as his face inexplicably burned. Something was wrong with his delivery today. He wondered for an instant if he was perhaps sick or was inhibited by some talisman cleverly slapped onto his clothes. Something strange made his skin roil and he felt more uncomfortable in the presence of Feng Xin than he had felt in ages.
Then he grit his teeth and ran a little mental diagnosis of himself. A small wave of energy soaked through his organs but he really, truly couldn’t detect anything wrong with him at the moment. He’d have to investigate it later.
Still not looking at Feng Xin, he said, “It will be a difficult task. There isn’t a lot of time, and the materials will truly be a headache to find.”
Feng Xin stood a little straighter. “Do you already have a plan of you want to do? Does that mean you’ll help?”
A plan of what he wanted to do….? Not…. Necessarily.
But of course Mu Qing had thought about an appropriate wedding gift for the unfortunately marrying couple! He wasn’t that irresponsible. And no matter how much he tried to block their grotesque love from his mind, his brain would not stop logistically sorting through the possible criteria of an appropriate gift. Still… although Mu Qing had taste, and anyone should feel honored to receive a gift picked by Xuan Zhen himself, Hua Cheng despised everything and anything Mu Qing. No gift of Mu Qing’s would be good enough. Having Feng Xin there to shoulder some of the revolting malice would be dearly appreciated. Having the Red-Robed Calamity eyeing Mu Qing’s every move was an uncomfortable experience he’d rather not deal with.
Additionally….
Additionally, Mu Qing had never been in love. For any other occasion, his judgment would have sufficed. But to present a gift that symbolized something as nonsensical and surreal as love- well, Mu Qing felt utterly lost. It was hopeless. But maybe… just maybe… together, they could figure something out.
Feng Xin heard none of this, of course. Mu Qing just clicked his tongue. “You’re so irresponsible. Are you telling me, with all that time they’ve been sick with love for each other, you’ve never once considered an appropriate gift for them?!”
“You already know this!” Feng Xin hissed. “I’m not good with gifts! You don’t have to rub it in!”
Mu Qing hated this more and more by the second. “Enough! It doesn’t matter.”
“So?” Feng Xin goaded. “And don’t give me a non-answer, I’m not Xie Lian, I can’t follow your insane train of thought. Are you going to help me or not?”
Mu Qing flicked his eyes up to the sky. As if I’d ever want to help you- ugh! “What do you mean, non-answer!”
Feng Xin stepped right in front of Mu Qing, forcing the southwest God to look at him. He flicked up his arms. “It’s a yes or no question, Qing!” His face broke out into a strange smile- simultaneously amused and irritated. “It’s not that hard.”
Mu Qing only glowered at him. He didn’t dare say what he wanted to- ‘and now you’re mocking me’, because that only played into Feng Xin’s infuriating point.
They stood like that for a while, before Mu Qing registered how close Feng Xin was to him. It took everything in him not to shove the man back, and he bit back the rising flush by snapping, “Don’t you already know my answer, it’s not that hard to figure out!”
“No! I don’t! Call me an obtuse idiot, but you’re the one that needs to work on communicating properly!” Feng Xin’s eyes were alit in that same fucking amusement again- “Come on, Mu Qing! Say what you really want to say!”
“Watch me decline,” Mu Qing snarled, “and see if you want to keep using that tone with me.”
At that, Feng Xin’s arms dropped and his face fell into one of complete exasperation.
He’s going to walk out on me, Mu Qing thought wildly, he has truly had enough. He’s done. He’s given up. He’s going to tell me that he’ll do it by himself, thank you so much for your time.
His heart quickened. This is really it.
But Feng Xin did none of those things. He merely straightened himself up and crossed his arms, and lifted his eyebrow, in a way that perfectly mimicked Mu Qing’s usual posture- not that Mu Qing noticed any of this. He was too busy panicking on the inside and glaring on the outside.
But Mu Qing didn’t back down either. He wasn’t going to leave, not until Feng Xin left. But after too many beats, Mu Qing’s defensive expression turned into one of confusion. Still Feng Xin didn’t leave. He continued to stare at Mu Qing with a leveled expression.
No way, Mu Qing thought, He…. Hasn’t learned how to manipulate, has he? He’s not really this smart? What is he doing? Is he waiting?
….What is he waiting for?
….Is he really going to make me say it?
He was really going to make him say it.
Mu Qing fought internally for a bit longer until he realized how ridiculous he was acting. Feng Xin wasn’t being reduced to this state- what an embarrassment.
Knowing that his next statement was going to be just as embarrassing, he just went for it.
“Fine. I’ll help you.”
Feng Xin lifted both eyebrows now. “Yeah? Really?”
Mu Qing brought a hand to his arm but froze it to damnation when he realized what he was doing. “Yes. I suppose.”
Feng Xin bobbed his head a few times. “Yeah, okay.” It was a bizarre sight, seeing both not leaving each other in an explosive argument. Mu Qing couldn’t remember a single time where they agreed to do something peacefully together without the intervention of Xie Lian in some way.
Mu Qing supposed that perhaps abstaining from talking at all would stop the arguments. He looked up and down Feng Xin, subconsciously pondering the consequences of what would happen if he were to silence himself in the presence of Feng Xin. The idea of going quiet around Feng Xin infuriated him, however- being quiet would mean that Feng Xin would interject whatever he wanted into Mu Qing’s mouth and walk around spreading misinformation. There would be no one to shut up that stupid blabbering mouth of his.
Feng Xin dropped his arms and Mu Qing was yet again jolted back into reality.
“So, what now?” He asked.