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There was something unbearable about banquets. They were so gaudy and colourful, loud and trashy. Everyone yelled and got drunk. The smell of rich food clashed with the tang of wine. None of this was enough to make him nauseous, but for whatever reason, Mu Qing was nauseous right now. There was probably something wrong with him, but he remained poised neatly in his seat, poking disinterestedly at his untouched meal.
Of course, his closest friends were quick to pick up on it despite his composure. "Are you alright?" Xie Lian leaned in close and asked, voice tinged with genuine concern.
"Of course." Mu Qing immediately lied with a straight face. Xie Lian had known him for too long to fall for this.
"You look pale." Xie Lian insisted.
"I always look pale." Mu Qing retorted calmly.
"Paler than usual."
"It must be a trick of the light."
"Hey, are you sick?" Feng Xin demanded warily from across the table, overhearing their exchange. His voice grated on Mu Qing's ears and made his stomach twist. Feng Xin was the last person he needed to hear right now.
"I said I'm fine." Mu Qing warned.
"Bullshit!" Feng Xin scoffed. "You've lied about being fine way too many times to deserve my trust."
It was true that Mu Qing had a bit of a problem with lying about his health. He was a proud man who didn't know when to back out. Even at the last moment, Mu Qing would hold out on treating his nausea in front of others in the hopes that it would miraculously subside. It never did, and Mu Qing now had a history of throwing up in the worst places. Once, he threw up in the middle of a busy street in the mortal realm. Another time, he painted the floor of the great martial hall, derailing an entire meeting.
The incident that really did him in was being sick on the front steps of Feng Xin's palace. That got Feng Xin's eyes on him any time he looked unwell after that. He and Xie Lian, who knew him too well for his own good, were constantly paranoid about his foolish tendency. Sure, throwing up in inappropriate places was far more embarrassing than asking for help, but Mu Qing couldn't bring himself to give in, still hoping for that miracle recovery.
"Your trust is worthless, anyway." Mu Qing retorted primly, willing himself to stay composed despite the steady churn of his stomach. Xie Lian peered at him in concern, while Feng Xin glared at him skeptically. He stared intently at Mu Qing, speaking firmly.
"I need you to give a serious answer. Are you feeling sick. I'm not asking whether you're going to be sick. I'm just asking if you're feeling nauseous."
"No." Mu Qing lied plainly. Feng Xin clawed his hands through his hair.
"I swear to god, if you fuck up this banquet..." He hissed. This was really starting to irk Mu Qing. He knew he had broken Feng Xin's trust, but he longed for Feng Xin to just let him suffer in peace.
"Well, I won't, so don't worry." Mu Qing huffed irritably.
"If you think you're going to be sick, will you leave? You can just say you're going to the bathroom, no one will know." Xie Lian suggested. Well, now that he had said it, everyone would know that if Mu Qing went to the bathroom it was to be sick. There went that solution. Now he definitely had to tough it out.
"Sure." Mu Qing answered dismissively. It would be fine, if he just didn't breathe too much or smell the food.
The nausea was slowly creeping up his stomach, rising into his chest. Mu Qing felt weak and giddy. He longed to do anything to alleviate the sickness, but he didn't even dare to close his eyes or slump, even though the effort of fronting made it feel worse. There was a bad taste in his mouth. It wasn't stomach acid, it was just the familiar, unpleasant taste of nausea, but it still didn't feel great.
"Look at that face!" Feng Xin whispered to Xie Lian. "He looks so normal! He's definitely hiding something!"
"Are you sure you're okay?" Xie Lian asked. Mu Qing was miserable. The nausea was steadily getting worse. He should have longed to go lie down, but he couldn't do that until the banquet ended, so he longed for the banquet to end faster instead, a simply impossible demand.
"I said I'm fine." He answered with a clenched jaw.
Mu Qing's food suddenly vanished from in front of him. Ming Yi had swept it up and was now devouring it. Mu Qing truly appreciated it. It was getting harder to focus as the nausea became overwhelming. Beside him, he could still hear Feng Xin and Xie Lian talking anxiously. "I think we should take him to the bathroom and wait there until he throws up." Feng Xin declared.
"Now, now, we don't know that he's going to be sick, he might just not be feeling well..." Xie Lian placated.
"Maybe, but you can't tell with him!" Feng Xin fretted. God, they were talking about him like he was a dumb dog.
If his stomach didn't settle soon, something terrible would happen. Mu Qing quickly employed his limited knowledge of acupressure points. He subtly slid his hands into his wide sleeves and pressed down on his wrists. When that didn't help, he began squeezing the point on his hand between his thumb and forefinger. Once he squeezed it nice and hard, it seemed to be doing something. Mu Qing kept that up, switching hands every now and then.
"Mu Qing, you really don't look good." Xie Lian fretted.
"I said I'm fine." Mu Qing growled. He squeezed his hands harder, praying desperately that the bile pooling in his mouth would go away. He was beginning to tremble, a telltale sign that he knew from experience meant he was about to throw up, but he couldn't bring himself to surrender. To get up now would be an admission of weakness. Mu Qing still believed there was a chance he could breathe deeply through the nausea until it passed, no matter how close he was to being sick.
He never expected the power of the absolute blathering in his vicinity to cancel out any of the acupressure's benefits. As he fidgeted anxiously, Feng Xin and Xie Lian began to talk again, sending him over the edge. "We need to get him out of here." Feng Xin warned. Shockingly, Xie Lian actually began to agree.
"Bathroom, or just some fresh air?" He wondered. Mu Qing desperately squeezed the life out of his hand.
"I don't know, anywhere, we just-"
In the blink of an eye, in a single heave, the entire table was covered in a vast splatter of projectile vomit. Feng Xin's formal robes narrowly escaped damage thanks to his enhanced reflexes. Everyone flew out of their seats. The dinner table with all its cups, plates, side dishes and silk drapery, was ruined. Feng Xin rounded the table, picked up Mu Qing under the arms and rushed outside, carrying him at arms length through the pavilion like a wet cat.
Mu Qing landed in the grass in a quiet courtyard. His stomach was gearing up for another heave. "What the fuck!" Feng Xin snapped. "Every fucking time! Do you have some kind of agenda for making messes!?" Mu Qing pitched forwards and vomited into the grass.
Feng Xin paced back and forth beside Mu Qing furiously. "Is it so hard to admit when you're not feeling well?? How is that more embarrassing than this!?" He seethed. Mu Qing clung dizzily to the grass. It was damp and his hair was getting in his face. He retched as he threw up again. The harsh noises seemed to bring some sympathy back to Feng Xin, who finally crouched beside Mu Qing and placed a hand on his back.
"You look absolutely pathetic right now." He murmured. Mu Qing choked on the strings of bile and vomit dripping from his mouth. Being outside with his back to the banquet definitely saved him some face, but Feng Xin was seeing him in his full disgrace. Mu Qing had nothing left to say for himself. He had left it too late again, his own fear of humiliation betraying him.
Feng Xin rubbed light circles between his shoulder blades. "Don't hold back now that you're out here. You're not going back inside until you're completely empty." He warned.
"I'm not going back inside." Mu Qing corrected shakily. He gagged and curled in on himself as his stomach heaved up another wave of sick, retching loudly. He would definitely be needing some time away from the public eye after this spectacle. This was the second time he had thrown up in front of the upper court, which didn't seem like much until one realised that no other heavenly officials had done that even once.
Mu Qing's stomach felt thoroughly wrung out by the time he was done. He continued to heave uselessly, spitting and drooling. "Easy, easy..." Feng Xin soothed. Mu Qing could hear faint amusement in his voice. "I think you're done." It seemed so, but Mu Qing's body didn't care. "I hope it hurts." Feng Xin added smugly. "Just a little. For ruining the mood."
Even after the heaves and the drooling seemed to have subsided, Mu Qing couldn't move. He didn't have the strength to lift his head and reveal his vomit-covered face and hair. He had no idea what to do until Feng Xin firmly directed him.
"Lie down for a bit, let your stomach settle." He advised, gently taking Mu Qing by the shoulders. Mu Qing let Feng Xin guide him away from his mess, over to a clear patch of grass. Then, Feng Xin laid him down in the grass. Mu Qing's heart raced. He immediately tried to sit back up, but Feng Xin pressed him down.
"Ah-ah, you're not going anywhere." He chided. "Rest, you absolute menace."
"I can't just lie in the grass like some drunkard!" Mu Qing protested frantically. Feng Xin lied down beside Mu Qing.
"There," Feng Xin concluded. "Now we're two idiots lying in the grass." It was certainly better than being the only one lying there.
Mu Qing closed his eyes. He didn't feel much better after being sick. He was a slimy mess and he was humiliated. "Were you doing acupressure earlier?" Feng Xin inquired. Mu Qing nodded quietly, earning a thoughtful hum from Feng Xin. He was probably going to look out for that habit from now on as a warning sign that the quiet Mu Qing was going to be sick.
Mu Qing felt a hand close around his, squeezing it gently. "I'll catch on to you one of these days." Feng Xin muttered beside him. "You're not as mysterious as you think. I'll figure you out." Mu Qing believed it. He almost hoped for it.