Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Haven’t you heard the tale of the fisherman who, as he steered his boat down a river, came across a valley of peach trees? There, all the trees were blossoming, and the ground was covered in pink petals.

Curious about this strange place, the man let the river carry him further into the forest.

Xie Lian left Sixiang Pavilion still chewing on his Guoshi’s words, conflicting emotions warring inside him.

On the one hand, getting permission to leave the capital and travel the country was a relief. To get away from court for a while, from his father and Qi Rong and the trappings of his position…

Xie Lian would gladly take the chance to focus on cultivating for a while.

On the other hand, he could not get Hong Hong-er out of his head. He had always considered Guoshi a wise, righteous man. To see him flinch back from a small child out of fear of some undefined, nebulous destiny had rattled Xie Lian. Yes, maybe the boy was especially unlucky. Maybe he even attracted bad fortune wherever he went. Still, he was only a child, afraid and in pain. It was not his fault.

Hong-er’s wails still echoed in his ears. They had called him dangerous and recoiled as though he had a highly contagious disease. Even then, he had desperately looked for a gentle touch and screamed as if he wanted to convince fate to change its mind through sheer force of will.

I’m not! I’m not dangerous!

Xie Lian slowly came to a halt. He needed to figure out what to do with him. He had wanted to wait until tomorrow, when things were a bit calmer, but he was suddenly overwhelmed with the memory of small hands tugging hard at his robes and a dirty face smothering agonized screams against his chest.

Maybe he should check. Just briefly, to make sure everything was alright. He could wait until tomorrow to decide what to do, regardless.

Mind made up, Xie Lian slowly walked back into Sixiang Pavilion. The disciples were still agitated enough by the fire that he went largely unnoticed as he slipped past them in the hallways. He made his way back to the room he had put Hong-er in and stopped at the door.

There were voices coming from inside.

He waited for a moment and then slid the door open just enough to look through the narrow gap into the room. Two disciples were standing in front of Hong-er, who was cowering against the wall with his face lowered and his hands balled into fists, utterly silent. They had their swords out, as if the child were any kind of threat. When he looked closer, he realized that one of the disciples was Zhu An.

“–to behave like this with the crown prince, do you even know what you did?”

“Worse, what if your bad luck rubbed off on him? You should get beaten for your crime!”

Hong-er shrank even more into himself, and his little face scrunched up into something angry and tearful underneath the bandages.

Xie Lian’s brows furrowed at the sight, and displeasure made itself at home in his chest.

“Really, kid, you need to leave. There's no place for you here. You're just a burden on His Highness.”

Xie Lian had heard enough. He was about to push open the door and stop this harassment when, suddenly, a change came over Hong-er.

If the boy had been trying to make himself smaller until this moment, sinking further and further against the wall, he now seemed to have decided that the only way to deal with this situation was to take action. He stood up straight, and his little face became grim. His hands balled into fists before him, and he rushed at the disciples. Before they could react, he jumped at Zhu An and punched him in the stomach as hard as he could.

Right afterwards, he drew back his fist to hit him again, but the disciples finally came to their senses and moved forward to grab his arms and hands. They restrained him before he could get another hit in and pushed him against the wall, his arms above his head in what looked like a painful stretch.

That’s right, Xie Lian remembered with a start. Didn’t he have several broken bones?

Now, the two disciples’ anger was ramped up by the fact that a child had gotten the drop on them. They closed in on him, and warning bells started going off in Xie Lian’s head. As tough as Hong-er seemed to be, Xie Lian wasn’t sure he could take any more injuries.

He finally pushed open the door. “Just what is going on here?”

The two disciples jolted and hurriedly released Hong-er, who fell to the floor with a low gasp. A single dark, wide eye flitted to Xie Lian before the boy quickly lowered his face again.

“Your Highness,” Zhu An stammered. “We were just–”

“Just bullying a child?” Xie Lian asked angrily. “Two grown men against one boy, is that what Guoshi taught us? Did you forget your honor when you rolled out of bed today?”

Zhu An flushed a deep red, and the disciple whom Xie Lian now recognized as Liu Yang said in a placating tone, “Your Highness, everyone has their place in life. This boy has already received more graciousness than is his due, and still, he is disrespectful! Your Highness, you are kind and generous and don't like to be strict, even when someone deserves it, but if you let people do whatever, they'll run all over you!”

Behind him, Xie Lian could see Hong-er trembling, small and tense, and his mouth pinched into a thin line. Liu Yang gave a pretty speech, but no matter how reasonable his words sounded, what were they actually worth?

Xie Lian took a deep breath and tried to wrangle his horrible temper under control. “Everyone has their place in life? Are you not only a disciple in this temple because you worked hard and adhered to Guoshi’s principles? Could you not just as easily lose it if you stopped doing these things?” By how pale the young man turned, Xie Lian figured that he understood his meaning. “This child is already injured and did not do anything wrong. Even if he did, it wouldn't have been your place to punish him. Leave now, before I lose my patience.”

They bowed, reluctant but unwilling to truly cross the crown prince, and walked past him out the door.

Xie Lian released a breath and turned to Hong-er. The boy was looking stubbornly at the floor, his hands tightly gripping the cloth of his pants.

What was he to do with him?

If this scene had made Xie Lian realize anything at all, it was that he could not leave Hong-er at the Holy Royal Pavilion. He was unwanted here and wouldn't be treated well, if they did not just kick him out immediately. But at the palace, there was Qi Rong, the person who had dragged Hong-er behind his carriage, trying to kill him. Right now, Qi Rong was still in detention, but he wouldn't always be. When he came out and found Hong-er at the palace, and Xie Lian wasn't there…

Xie Lian heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. He did not know what to do. He would have to think about it further. For now, he lowered his hand again and walked closer to the boy to crouch down before him. “Did they hurt you?”

Hong-er pressed himself harder against the wall and shook his head. Xie Lian reached out, wanting to check, but stopped when Hong-er flinched. “What is it?”

Hong-er shook his head. “Don't touch me, 'm dirty.”

As Xie Lian processed what he had said, there was another flicker of rage. Of course the boy thought he was dirty, after how everyone here had treated him. No. No, Xie Lian could not leave him here, or he would condemn him to a life of abuse.

“You're not dirty,” he said quietly. “Even if you were, what of it? I still don't mind touching you. What's a little dirt, hm? It can just be washed off.”

Finally, Hong-er let Xie Lian pull him closer and check him over. He looked exhausted and tense with pain. It was no wonder, after everything he had gone through.

He looked up and into Hong-er’s single, dark eye. There was something like resignation in it, along with a good bit of determination. He was a fighter, for better or worse, and he seemed to know that he was on his own, even now.

He didn’t think Xie Lian would help him.

Xie Lian closed his eyes and heaved a deep sigh. There went his plans to travel. Staying at the palace would be an ordeal, but until he could think of a better plan, it was really his only option.

“Hong-er,” he said. “Do you trust me?”

The child stayed still and silent, simply looking at him warily, and Xie Lian silently admitted that it had been a stupid question.

He tried a different approach. “I’d like to take you back to the palace with me. We’ll find a place for you.” Suddenly, an idea came to him. “I’ll see if I can get you accepted as a trainee in the royal guard! You certainly have the spirit, and you’re tough. If you work hard…” Xie Lian slowed down a bit. “Is that something you want?”

Hong-er hesitated for a long moment. Finally, he said, “I’m not good at fighting. I always lose.”

Xie Lian tried not to let out the weary laugh that was bubbling up in him. Of course he kept losing, if he always fought against people much older and stronger than him. He shook his head. “I saw you just now. I think you have potential. No one expects you to be good from the very beginning. That’s why you get the training.”

Hong-er doubtfully looked up at him. “You really think I could do it?”

Xie Lian smiled and playfully tapped his own temple. “I can always tell when someone has potential. And I think you’re really special.”

The boy’s uncovered eye grew wide with wonder.

After a moment, Xie Lian held out his hand. “So, what do you say? Do you want to try?”

He needed to wait for a long moment, but then, a small, sweaty hand touched his, and Xie Lian pulled him closer and picked him up, settling him onto his hip. “Alright,” he said with a smile, already thinking about how to convince his father of this, “let’s go.”

To say that his father was unimpressed would be a gross understatement. Xie Lian was abruptly glad that he had left Hong-er with a servant. With how insecure he already was, if he had seen the king's reaction, he probably would have buried himself in a hole and died.

Xie Lian, however, was very used to his father’s temper. After all, he had inherited it from him.

“Did you even think about the consequences at all?” His father flung his hands into the air, and Xie Lian took a few deep breaths, trying not to start screaming at him. That would come later. “What do you think will happen if you take in this boy?”

“I don't know, what?” he asked sullenly.

“People will hear about it and start wondering! Do you know what some people would do to get their child a cushy life in the palace? There will be a whole trend of people making their children approach you and pretend they're homeless. At worst, some parents will push their children off high buildings when you walk by!”

“They wouldn't do that,” Xie Lian said, a little shocked.

His father dragged his hands down his face. “You're so naive. Of course they–”

“Dearest, are you here?” a soft voice interrupted them. A second later, the door opened, and Xie Lian’s mother entered. She raised her eyebrows when she saw the two of them. “I'm sorry, did I interrupt anything?”

His father let himself fall onto a chair and scoffed. “No, nothing important.”

Seeing her husband’s tired expression, she went over to rub his shoulders. “Now, what's all that, hm? What has you so worked up?”

“He wants to take in the boy from the debacle last week.”

His mother got a pinched look on her face. “The poor boy that Rong-er… I see. Does he not have a family?”

“No,” Xie Lian inserted himself. “He’s all alone, and I feel responsible. It’s because of me that he was so badly hurt in the first place. I want to make it up to him.”

“And, like I said,” the king groused, “there’s no way to do that without causing a huge scandal. What would his role here be? He can’t just laze around all day.”

“That’s what I was trying to say! I do not intend him to laze around or anything. I think he should join the royal guard.”

Both his parents stopped and looked up at him. Xie Lian quickly continued, “He has potential! I think he could become a really good fighter. He just needs to be given a chance!”

His mother’s face brightened a little. “That could work, dear, couldn’t it? We could be subtle about it, too!”

The king still looked sullen, but he stroked his chin and hummed. “He’d have to get an apprenticeship the normal way. Gain the approval of General Li and prove his mettle before he’s accepted. It’d still be a bit risky, but at least it would prove that he did more than fall from a wall.”

“Yes,” Xie Lian agreed eagerly. “He would work hard. No one will doubt that he got into the royal guard through anything but honest means.”

His father shot him a sharp look. “Because he will. Don’t misunderstand me, he will have to prove himself first. Let General Li take a look at him, and if he doesn’t approve, the boy is out. No buts.”

Xie Lian crossed his arms. “I understand.”

General Li would accept Hong-er, even if Xie Lian had to train him himself.

“He’s injured.”

General Li considered Hong-er critically. Instead of squirming, the boy returned his stare defiantly. For once, it was Xie Lian standing behind him who tried not to squirm.

The general was a weathered, middle-aged man. Scars lined his hands, and a rough beard covered most of the lower half of his face. Xie Lian had learnt most of what he knew about swordfighting from General Li. His first drills had all been under the general's steady guidance, and so he respected him more than almost anyone else.

He would also be less nervous to stand before him, asking him for a favor, if he had come to see the man more often over the last few years. As it was, he rather felt like a child waiting for an auntie to scold him for not showing his face more often.

“Yes,” he finally said awkwardly, “Qi Rong, ah…”

General Li shook his head. “No need to say anything more, I heard about the incident.”

Xie Lian clasped his hands behind his back so his fidgeting wasn’t quite so obvious. “I think Hong-er here would be a good fit for the royal guard. He’s still young, but older than Feng Xin when he started. And I saw him fight. He only needs a little guidance, and he could become really good.”

He stared hard at General Li, trying to convince him with his will alone, but the man wasn’t paying attention to him. Instead, he and Hong-er looked at each other silently for a long time before the man crouched down and said, “Do you really want this, kid? Being part of the royal guard isn’t easy. It’s frustrating and hard and less glorious than you might imagine.”

Hong-er’s mouth twisted grimly, and for a moment, he looked older than he was. “My parents kicked me out, so I’ve been living on the streets. Can’t be harder than that.”

General Li was silent for a moment. Then, his eyes grew slightly soft, and he sighed before standing back up. “Well, alright. I can’t test him like this. He’ll need to heal from his injuries first. Put him in a room, Your Highness, and in a few weeks, we can see if he’s suited to training or not.”

Xie Lian cupped his fist in his palm and gave a shallow, grateful bow. “Thank you, General.”

Hong-er walked through the palace like he was sneaking through a lion’s den. He made himself small and quiet and jumped at every noise.

Xie Lian tried to put him at ease. He talked about what they might have for dinner, about General Li, and mentioned that Qi Rong was confined to his rooms. But Hong-er remained stubbornly silent and tense, no matter what Xie Lian said.

Eventually, they arrived at the bare little room that General Li had assigned to Hong-er. Xie Lian felt slightly embarrassed looking at how small and depressing it was, but unexpectedly, Hong-er seemed to thaw. He relaxed a little and looked around curiously.

“This is your room,” Xie Lian said awkwardly.

Hong-er looked at him with surprise. “I don't have to share?”

Xie Lian gave a startled laugh. “Oh, no. It's just for you.” He thought that it was too small to share anyway, but Hong-er looked like Xie Lian had handed him the keys to a lavish countryside residence.

Hong-er slowly walked over to the bed and patted the thin mat on the wood. “It's soft,” he murmured.

For the first time, the harrowing reality of just how poor the boy was hit Xie Lian. He wouldn't be used to any of it; not the beds, or the etiquette, or the food. Suddenly, he felt a glimmer of doubt as to whether his plan was even possible. What if it was too great a change for Hong-er? What if their worlds were just too different?

But he looked up and saw that Hong-er had sat down on the bed and was looking at him expectantly, cautiously. Xie Lian sighed quietly. It was too late now, anyway. What was he supposed to do, kick the boy back out? He couldn't do that.

"Let's get you something to eat, alright?" he said with forced cheer. "And maybe a bath. And I'll notify the servants to bring everything you need."

Hong-er just lowered his eyes to where his hands were gripping his knees; a small, silent figure on the bed.

Xie Lian couldn't take it any longer. He hesitated for a few seconds before fleeing the room.

"Ah, don't eat so fast! No one will take it from you!"

Hong-er slowed down only marginally. Before him was a small spread of buns, pickled vegetables, and soup, and while he had been unwilling to take anything at first, once Xie Lian had sat down and waited him out, the smell of the food seemed to have eroded any resistance.

He reminded Xie Lian of a feral animal, the way he sat hunched over his food, gripping it with both hands as he devoured it in quick bites. His wild hair, along with his dirty hands and face, didn't help the impression.

Xie Lian bravely sat there, trying to ignore the open-mouthed chewing noises, and thought about where to go from there.

"Do you know how to wash yourself?"

Hong-er looked up at him with a single wide, dark eye, the bun frozen halfway up to his mouth. Then, he nodded mutely.

Xie Lian gave a slightly pained smile. "That's good. Then you can bathe on your own later."

Under his numerous bandages, Hong-er blushed a little. When Xie Lian didn't say anything else, he slowly resumed eating.

He didn't attempt to make further conversation and left him to his food while he went out and asked a servant to prepare a bath.

Eventually, Hong-er finished the last of the food and sat back, a hand over his tummy and a strange expression on his face.

Xie Lian had just returned and was about to show Hong-er to the baths when he noticed the boy's state.

"Is everything alright?"

Hong-er didn't answer. It was as if he were frozen in his position, his face deadly pale and sweaty. Xie Lian took another hesitant step forward.

"Hong-er, what is it?"

He barely managed to finish the sentence and reach out when Hong-er sprang up and brushed past him as he ran to the corner of the room. With a great heave and a miserable noise, Hong-er vomited the food he had just eaten all over the floor.

"Your Highness, really," the young nurse said before falling silent, trying to find a more diplomatic way of saying what he had been about to say. "I know you had good intentions, but the child had clearly been starving before. His stomach isn't used to the kind of rich food we eat at the palace."

Xie Lian's flush deepened. How had he been supposed to know that? He awkwardly scratched his cheek. "Sorry."

"It's alright, Your Highness. Though if we had known that he would stay here longer, we would have made a meal plan for him."

Xie Lian abruptly remembered his father's words about favoritism and what people might infer, and winced. "It's not like that. He wants to become a trainee of the royal guard."

The nurse paused and cast a dubious look at where Hong-er was sitting on a bed at the other end of the room, hidden behind a paper screen for privacy. "If you say so, Your Highness. Well, in any case, we will make a meal plan now. But just so you know, he won't be able to eat much more than light broth and dry buns for a good few days."

Xie Lian felt a stab of sympathy for the poor child, but he obediently nodded. Only then did the nurse allow him to see Hong-er.

The boy was sitting on the bed like a prisoner awaiting execution. When Xie Lian stepped behind the screen, he turned bright red and ducked his head further, letting his matted hair fall over his eyes.

Xie Lian awkwardly cleared his throat before saying, "I must apologize to you."

At that, Hong'er abruptly looked up, his eye wide, and blurted, "Why are you apologizing? After all, I was the one who… did that all over your nice floor." His voice was raspy and went high with distress at the end.

Xie Lian clasped his hands in front of him and tried hard not to fidget. "Yes, but it's not your fault. I shouldn't have given you so much food when you're not used to it."

Hong-er still looked unconvinced, so Xie Lian took a step forward and stiffly patted his shoulder, taking care not to use too much force. He could be a bit careless sometimes. "Don't worry too much, these things happen."

"Do I have to leave now?" Hong-er whispered.

Xie Lian stared at where his pale little hands fisted the fabric of his pants, his knuckles stark white. He mutely shook his head before catching himself and saying out loud, "No, of course not. You'll get your bath and… different food. And you'll rest until you're healed up enough that General Li can test you."

Hong-er swallowed hard but stayed silent. Xie Lian did not know what else to say, either, and so they stayed quiet, stationary in their positions.

Finally, Xie Lian roused himself and offered his hand. "Come on, let's go back to your room."

His hand went unnoticed for a long moment, until Hong-er peeked up at him and flinched. That was right, Xie Lian remembered. Blind on one side. He would have to keep that in mind.

It took another, horribly long moment until Hong-er took his hand. But he did, in the end.

Chapter Text

At the end of the forest, there was a mountain, and the man saw that the river sprang from a narrow opening in the rock. Hearing the faint sounds of music, he squeezed himself through it. First, there was nothing but darkness, but soon, he saw light and finally stepped out into a valley.

In the weeks during which Hong-er healed up, two unexpected things happened.

The first one was that Hong-er started pretending to be a servant boy. It only took a few days until he was fed up with doing nothing, and then he threw himself into the work as though he had never done anything else.

Xie Lian didn't know what else he had expected. If he was honest with himself, he hadn't thought about it much at all. He had simply put a few books in Hong-er's room and left it at that, with the vague idea in his mind that the boy would stay put in his room until it was time for him to come out, rather like he was a piece of furniture stored in a cupboard.

Obviously, that didn't go as planned.

To his surprise, the servants were utterly delighted with Hong-er. Someone must have spread it around that he was in the castle at Xie Lian's behest, because instead of letting anything slip to the royal family, they readily played along with Hong-er's little pretense of always having been there.

In no time, Hong-er was sweeping the courtyards, clumsily folding sheets, and carrying overflowing laundry baskets through the hallways.

Xie Lian didn't know how to react to it. He certainly hadn't brought Hong-er into the castle to become a servant, and part of him was afraid that he wouldn't want to try out for the royal guard at all anymore. But the thing was that Xie Lian simply didn't know how else to entertain a young boy.

He himself spent most of his time either training, a pastime for which Hong-er was still too injured, or cultivating, which seemed too much of a commitment for the few weeks it would take the boy to heal. Xie Lian liked to read, but most of the books and scrolls he read were about swords, fighting, and cultivation, and Hong-er hadn't seemed particularly interested in any of the books Xie Lian had left him anyway.

He could technically sing, dance, and play instruments. It was just that he didn't particularly enjoy doing these things. The thought of spending hours teaching Hong-er to play an instrument seemed grueling enough to send a shiver down Xie Lian's spine.

So he would leave him with the servants. For now, at least.

The second unexpected thing that happened was that his mother took a liking to Hong-er.

Xie Lian didn't know how exactly they had met, but from what he gathered, Hong-er must have come across her while doing chores, and she had realized who he was. As it was, Xie Lian first learned of their relationship when he went to visit his mother's rooms and came across her teaching Hong-er to serve tea.

She was sitting at the low table in the middle of her receiving room. Hong-er knelt across from her, holding a delicate teapot, his shoulders tense and his face a mask of concentration.

"Yes, that's right," she said warmly. "Now hold the lid with your other hand so it doesn't fall when you pour."

He did as she said, and his brows drew down even lower until he was glowering at the teapot.

Xie Lian would have laughed at the sight if he weren't so surprised.

"Oh, Lian-er, what a nice surprise!"

At the queen's call, Hong-er jumped and let go of the teapot. Xie Lian used a bit of spiritual power to flash to his side and catch it before it could break.

"Oh!" His mother put a hand to her chest. "Lian-er, I'm always so startled when you do that!"

"Sorry, Mother." He gently set the teapot back on the table. Hong-er was staring at him with his wide, dark eye. He still hadn't taken off the bandage.

"Sit down, sit down. I was just teaching Hong Hong-er how to pour tea, you see?"

Xie Lian wasn't sure he saw, actually. He sat down anyway.

Hong-er carefully looked away from him.

"I must say, Hong-er is simply a delight. He's so earnest and helpful, he reminds me of you when you were younger."

Hong-er's cheeks grew a little pink.

Xie Lian raised his eyebrows at his mother. "Didn't Father say…"

"Ah." His mother waved a hand. "Your father only means well." She paused for a moment before saying, "And he doesn't have to know about this."

Well, Xie Lian could live with that.

"Now," she said then, "don't be discouraged, Hong-er. Try again!"

Hong-er didn't look as if he particularly wanted to try again, but at the queen's encouraging smile, he bravely picked up the teapot anyway. His hands were shaking so badly that the neck of the pot clinked loudly against the queen's teacup, but the tea was poured in the end, and Hong-er quickly set the pot down again.

"I'm sorry, Lian-er, we don't have a teacup for you. I hadn't expected you to come by today."

"That's alright, I just had tea." It was a well-worn lie. The truth was that Xie Lian didn't like the feeling of his mother's teacups against the skin of his fingers very much, didn't care for the taste either, and was more than tired of being called picky.

"If you're sure." His mother smiled and took a sip of tea. "Oh, that's not bad at all! Very good job, Hong-er, dear! Come, try!"

In response, Hong-er tried his best to drown his red face in his tiny teacup. Xie Lian felt some pity for the boy and went to distract his mother. "You have been teaching him?"

His mother made an agreeing noise and answered with a complete nonsequitur. "Did you know that people have started carving statues?"

"Oh?"

She took a rather self-satisfied sip of her tea. "You left a rather big impression when you saved Hong Hong-er here. They're carving statues of you in the costume you wore that day, a sword in one hand and a flower in the other."

"A flower—" Xie Lian automatically looked at Hong-er, who didn't seem to notice. He was staring at the queen with a wide, entranced eye as she talked.

His mother laughed. "That's right. From a distance, Hong Hong-er would have seemed like nothing but a small blob of color. And there's something poetic about it, too, isn't there? You choosing gentleness over violence, a flower over the sword."

Xie Lian wisely chose not to respond to that. Instead, he said, "I hope they're not carving too many. I'm not a god, and having statues of me all over the place might raise offense."

Not a god yet, a voice in him whispered with determination. It's only a matter of time.

"Ah, psh." His mother shook her head. "I wouldn't worry too much. You did something amazing, and the people are going to recognize that."

Xie Lian privately thought that Guoshi would have a few strong words about that if he were here, but he couldn't deny that he felt some satisfaction at his mother agreeing that he had done the right thing.

"And anyway," she continued, "what's done is done, and we can hardly change it now. Instead, we should make sure that our little flower here gets to stay and grow tall and strong."

Hong-er abruptly turned red again, and the dawning understanding came over Xie Lian that his mother enjoyed teasing him.

That was good. It meant Hong-er's chances of staying had just become a lot better. He stroked his fingertips along the edge of the table and watched his mother tease more reactions out of the boy.

Time would tell, he supposed. Hong-er having the queen's favor certainly wouldn't hurt his goal.

Three weeks later, Hong-er got accepted as a trainee of the royal guard.

Xie Lian knew that he needed to distance himself from Hong-er, now that he had an official position and people were watching him.

Not only had Qi Rong come back out of confinement, but his father also seemed to keep a closer eye on him, as if he was waiting for Xie Lian to do something stupid.

He was determined to prove him wrong. He had helped the boy, taken responsibility, and now it was time to put him out of his mind.

“Your Highness, I think he's stalking you again,” Mu Qing said quietly, looking over his shoulder at one of the hallway’s columns.

“Still?” Feng Xin said incredulously.

“Just ignore him,” Xie Lian said, his smile unchanged. “He's ten years old, he'll grow bored eventually.”

“He hasn't grown bored for the last two weeks,” Mu Qing mumbled. As they rounded the corner, there was the quiet pitter-patter of footsteps behind them, and all three of them groaned.

“Someone should tell him that he's not as subtle as he thinks.” Feng Xin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why does he have so much time anyway? When I was his age, the general kept me busy all day.”

Xie Lian really hoped he wasn't sneaking away. “Please, just change the topic. You have already told him to stop, and it didn't work. So let's just ignore him until he stops by himself.”

Mu Qing started to smile in that way he did just before he brought up an uncomfortable topic. “Would you prefer to talk about your new maid, Your Highness?”

Feng Xin looked at him with raised eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“Haven't you noticed?” Mu Qing asked smugly. “Recently, there's been a lot of pretty maids coming to bring His Highness his meals, tidy his bed, and lay out his clothes. Very pretty. Willowy beauties, all of them, with phoenix eyes and dark eyebrows.”

Feng Xin clearly still didn't understand, but when he looked to the side and saw how Xie Lian’s smile had been replaced by a grimace, he said, “Really, what are you on about now? Just say what you have to say!”

Mu Qing groaned. “You're really as dumb as a log of wood. What do you think it means when His Majesty arranges for a series of beautiful women to serve His Highness, just barely skirting the edge of appropriateness?”

“Hey now–”

“He wants him to show some masculine urges,” Mu Qing cackled, and Xie Lian covered his red face with his hands. “He wants him to be overcome by lust and bend one of them over.”

Feng Xin’s face took on a similar shade to Xie Lian’s.

“It's not exactly new,” Xie Lian sighed. “He's offered to take me to a brothel before and made noises about getting me a harem. The only reason why the harem thing hasn't gained more traction is that even he realizes it would be hypocritical, given that he's only married my mother.”

“But why?” Feng Xin sputtered.

“Why?” Mu Qing rolled his eyes. “Don't we all know that the King and Queen don't approve of His Highness cultivating? They'd much prefer him to be a good little prince, concentrate on state matters and his education, and maybe roll around with a few maids before he settles down and marries a nice woman or three.”

Privately, Xie Lian thought that there was one more reason. His father had realized that he was advancing too fast in his cultivation and was starting to fear that he would ascend. To get Xie Lian to stray from his cultivation path himself would be a good way to reduce the chances.

Rationally, he knew that his father did it because he didn't want to lose him. Still, he couldn't help but feel resentful.

“It doesn't matter. I don't care for any of that, nor will I in the future. Feel free to keep discussing the topic by yourselves, though. I'm going to the training hall.” And with that, he picked up his speed, leaving the other two scrambling to catch up.

He breathed a sigh of relief when there wasn't a third set of footsteps following.

There were houses nestled into the valley, rivers and ponds, fields and great trees. People were laughing, working, and playing music. They welcomed him and readily took him in. Soon, he learned that they lived there in seclusion and knew nothing of the strife and suffering of the outside world.

Xie Lian remained largely unbothered for two more weeks. Hong-er shadowed him whenever he could, but he was easy enough to ignore, and Xie Lian felt that he should ignore him. Better that than to encourage something that was ill-advised and distracted the boy from his training even more.

Now that Qi Rong was out of confinement again, Xie Lian had his hands full anyway. Wrangling his cousin was a job his mother was ill-equipped to handle alone, and so Xie Lian helped. He had to help, really, as seemingly the only person that Qi Rong felt some respect for, no matter how much it made Xie Lian wish he had just left Hong-er be and gone to travel the country again.

It all might have been more bearable if he could have fled to the Holy Royal Pavilion at least. As things were, however, it didn't feel like a good idea. Not only could Qi Rong come across Hong-er any day now, but Xie Lian would also have to explain to Guoshi exactly why he had not gone traveling as planned.

So Xie Lian stayed in the palace and, with every passing day, felt more and more like he was on the verge of exploding.

It turned out he was not the only one.

"I can't do it anymore!"

Hong-er stood before him like he was ready to fight, with his legs planted firmly on the ground and his hands balled into fists at his sides.

Xie Lian blinked and sat down on his bed, assuming the position of an attentive listener. He had, in fact, been just about to get ready for bed when the boy had burst through the door, followed by two distressed guards who were too used to seeing him as a servant to consider him any kind of threat. Xie Lian had reassured the guards and sent them out again before turning to the upset boy in front of him.

Hong-er's small face scrunched up and he choked, "I don't belong here! Every day, I try so hard, but I just can't do it! I'm bad at swordfighting and exercising and everything, and everyone hates me, and I don't know what I'm doing wrong!"

Tears sprang to Hong-er's eyes, and Xie Lian felt a small, answering pang in his chest.

Ah, maybe he had made a mistake.

He had been so eager to transfer the duty of looking after the boy to General Li and absolve himself of any responsibility, but what was the result?

A small, pale boy, openly crying before him because he had been left to his own devices before he was ready. For the first time, Xie Lian felt a sliver of guilt. He prided himself on always being fair and mature, but… he really hadn't been any of that in regard to Hong-er, had he?

He sighed and looked up to meet Hong-er's dark, liquid eye. "Why do you think everyone hates you?"

The boy flushed, tears still running steadily down his cheek. "They make fun of me. I can't get the drills right, and they hate me for how I speak and that I'm poor. And just… how I am."

Xie Lian stood, storm clouds gathering between his brows. "Who made fun of you? I'll have a word with them."

Hong-er grew quiet and ducked his head, leaving Xie Lian to wonder what he had said wrong.

After a long moment of only silence, he sat back down again and carefully tried, "If you're embarrassed—"

Hong-er's shoulders hitched. "It wouldn't help. Maybe they’ll stop saying anything, but they will still think it. If I can't prove that I'm just as good as them, I might as well leave now."

"You are just as good as them," Xie Lian insisted. "What does it matter how you speak or where you're from? You'll get better and show them!"

Hong-er was shaking from head to toe. He lifted his head, a fresh flood of tears spilling from his eye, and yelled, "I'm not! I'm not as good as them! I'm useless trash, that's all I am, and they know it! I can't even get simple sword forms right, and things keep going wrong around me! Yesterday, one of them told me I should have died when I fell from that wall, and maybe he's right."

A hard shudder went through him, and he continued, quieter, "You've been really kind to me, Your Highness. You caught me when I fell, and you took me in, but I've been lying to you and causing nothing but trouble."

Xie Lian sat there unmoving for a while to process what he had said. Finally, he asked, "What do you mean, you've been lying to me?"

Hong-er ducked his head again, and his hair fell like a dark shadow over his brows. His mouth twisted bitterly, or maybe shamefully; a strange expression on such a young child. "That day when you caught me, I climbed up the city wall to throw myself off it, in the middle of the parade. I wanted to kill myself in front of everyone and ruin their stupid happiness."

His hand went up to where the bandage was still covering his right eye and touched the edge. It looked like an unconscious habit, something he did often. "I'm a monster, inside. I've been hiding it from you. I'm sorry, Your Highness, but I'm rotten all the way down, and you shouldn't keep me around. It would have been better if I had died that day."

Xie Lian watched the movement of Hong-er's hand against his eye and wondered what was underneath that bandage. He wondered at this boy and the extreme self-hatred he carried around with him. Self-hatred and hatred for other people, going by his sad plan.

"I'm glad you didn't die," Xie Lian said, and found that it was true. Hong-er was perhaps right that Xie Lian's life would have been easier without Hong-er falling into it, but still. As much trouble as the boy had been, and as much as Xie Lian often wished he was free to leave the palace, the thought of him having died, nothing but a moment of horror and a smear on the pavement, made something in his chest squirm in discomfort. "I want you to live, and live well, if you can."

Hong-er didn't look happy about that. He glared at the ground as if he didn't quite dare to glare at Xie Lian. "But why?" he asked mulishly. "No one would care if I died. Why should I care, then?"

Xie Lian hesitated. Why did anyone care whether they lived or died? In truth, he wasn't quite sure. Still, he needed Hong-er to live. There was something beginning to burn in him, something that wanted to light a similar fire in Hong-er's chest, urging him to not only live, but thrive.

He crouched down in front of the boy, so that he had to look at Xie Lian, and said, "I can't tell you why you should want to live; you have to find that out yourself. But if you can't find a reason right now, then keep living for me until you find it. I want you to live, Hong-er, and I would care if you died. So just live for me, alright? Can you do that?"

As Xie Lian talked, some of the darkness faded from Hong-er's face, and he looked at him with surprise.

Xie Lian smiled and offered a hand. "How about it?"

After a long moment, Hong-er reached up and took his hand. He was still looking at Xie Lian with a mix of suspicion and wonder, but his hand was gripping Xie Lian's fingers tightly.

Xie Lian's self-control had reached its limit, and at that, it broke, and he pulled Hong-er into his arms to hug him tightly.

He felt a shuddering, hot breath against his neck, and then small hands gripped the back of his robes. He combed his fingers through Hong-er's hair and resigned himself to the feeling that came over him as the boy clung to him and cried. "It will be alright," he promised. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you alone."

Leaving the responsibility for Hong-er to General Li or even his mother would never have worked. It was Xie Lian that Hong-er had followed to the palace, and it was him that he looked up to and placed his trust in. It was only Xie Lian who could keep him here.

A sweet kind of possessiveness came over him, not unlike the possessiveness he had felt as a child over his toys, his maids, and his parents. It was shameful, and he did feel a little ashamed, but he couldn't quite suppress the gleeful little voice underneath the shame that crowed: Alright. Hong-er is mine. He belongs to me now.

"It'll be alright," he whispered gently. "We'll figure it out. If you're having trouble with training, I'll help you."

Hong-er abruptly freed himself from the embrace. "How?"

Xie Lian tried not to smile. He hadn't truly noticed before, but Hong-er really was an adorable child, with his wide, expressive eye and his fluffed-up hair. "I will teach you."

If anything, Hong-er got even more alarmed. "Right now?"

Xie Lian stood. "Why not?"

When Hong-er did nothing but continue looking at him like a frozen deer, Xie Lian laughed and went to his wardrobe. "We're in luck. I think I still have my wooden practice sword in here from when I was eight."

He started going through the mountains of things he had collected over the years. Behind him, Hong-er uncertainly said, "I'm really not very good, Your Highness."

Xie Lian waved him off. "No one is good when they start. You just lack some personalized training!" With a triumphant smile, he finally pulled out the wooden sword and turned around. "Here it is! We will only go over some of the basics right now, don't worry. I just want to get a feeling for where you are."

Hong-er gulped and accepted the sword from him. Xie Lian retrieved his own sword and directed Hong-er to the open space before the bed. He got into position facing him. "I assume they have already taught you some basic footwork? You must know that footwork is one of the most important aspects of swordfighting. It's your stability, your strength, and your speed. You should keep your eyes as much on your opponent's feet as on their sword and face."

He reminded himself that he should keep to the topic. He tended to get too excited when talking about swordfighting and go on a tangent. "How about this; I will slowly demonstrate some of the steps, and you can imitate me?"

Hong-er nodded, and so Xie Lian turned his back to him to make his movements easier to follow. Slowly, he went through the steps of the most basic form of li tiao yue, keeping half his attention on Hong-er moving behind him. At the beginning, he stumbled a bit, but as Xie Lian went through it a second and third time without saying anything or turning around, he slowly relaxed.

Finally, Xie Lian turned around to face him. "Let's go through it again." Again, he did the step sequence a few times, now facing him, and again, Hong-er grew more relaxed after a few seconds. It gave Xie Lian the chance to see what exactly his issue was.

"This is not bad," he eventually said. "But I see where you're struggling. You're seeing all the parts of your body as separate, so when you're concentrating on what your feet are doing, you forget to keep tension in your arms and torso."

Under his criticism, Hong-er sank into himself, and Xie Lian quickly added, "This isn't an unusual mistake for beginners, though, and something that is easily rectified with a little more practice."

He thought back on what General Li had taught him when he was still a child himself. "See, this style of martial arts is all about energy flow. Imagine the energy is flowing through your body with every movement you make. That means that your body has to be like a river so the movements can flow through you unhindered."

Xie Lian paused for a moment. He worried he wasn't explaining this clearly enough, so he shifted into a different stance. "Let me show you what I mean."

Without much ceremony, he started liu he fei, a sword dance that was more for show and beauty than practicality, but demonstrated what he meant very well. He went slower than he normally did, so Hong-er could see everything clearly, but still, after only a few seconds, the familiar rush of happiness went through him.

Moving like this, his body flowing like a clear stream, felt more like flying than even qinggong. It tasted like cultivation and power, and Xie Lian never felt as free as when he was moving through familiar steps, his sword nothing but an extension of him, twisting and turning and moving like he was the wind itself.

After a minute, he came to a stop, his chest heaving with exhilaration. "Did you see?" He turned around to Hong-er but stopped short when he caught sight of the boy's expression.

Hong-er looked stunned. Xie Lian had hoped that he might see the beauty of the arts, the elegance, but his expression now revealed more feeling than Xie Lian could ever have expected.

He gentled his expression and smiled at him. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Hong-er nodded. "I see now."

Xie Lian's smile grew wider. "Good, that's what I hoped for. Let's try your forms again!"

As he walked closer, Hong-er's face hardened with determination. Xie Lian got into position, and they went through the form again.

Hong-er wasn't perfect. He was still a bit clumsy and unsure in some places, but there was something about how he moved now, more flowing and sure, that told Xie Lian he had understood the idea and was managing to carry it out himself.

His lips curved up in satisfaction. He had been right. Hong-er had potential. Even with some starting difficulties, he had an instinctive understanding of the art. He would make it.

When they were done for the evening and Hong-er's eyes started drooping, Xie Lian put away his sword and took a moment to ponder their situation.

They would need to meet again, probably with some regularity. But his father's warning wasn't without reason, even though Xie Lian wondered how much of that was still relevant after the queen had invited Hong-er to take tea with her. Still, he would prefer his father not to know, and so it was better to meet in secret, or at least in relative privacy.

Which meant that it would be best to keep to evening visits like this. Thankfully, there was an easy way to keep those under wraps.

"Hong-er," Xie Lian said, "come here."

"Hm?" Hong-er blinked some of the sleepiness from his eyes and followed Xie Lian to one of the walls behind the bed.

"If you come here again, you can't come through the front door or let anyone know you're here, do you understand?"

Hong-er's eye grew wide. "I can come again?"

Xie Lian couldn't help but smile. "Yes, you can come again. Most days, I'm alone in my room from hai shi on. After that, you can come and visit whenever you want. Just make sure that you get enough sleep." Then, he thought of something. "Of course, this is only for regular visits. If there is an emergency, you can come see me anytime."

Hong-er only continued staring at him silently, and Xie Lian laughed awkwardly. "Well, look here." He tapped a panel on the wall while concentrating his qi in his fingertips. The panel silently slid open, revealing a dark, narrow hallway.

Hong-er made a small, surprised sound and leaned forward to look out into the darkness.

"This is one of the secret passageways the servants use to get around the castle and tend to the fireplaces from outside the rooms. You will have to be careful not to run into anyone when you use it. But almost no one knows that a door into my room opens from here."

Hong-er furrowed his brows. "Isn't that dangerous? What if someone finds out and sneaks in while Your Highness is sleeping? It's not guarded."

Xie Lian tamped down on his amusement. He felt that it wasn't necessary to get into the details of the nightly visitors of past princes. "You're right, of course. That's why it only opens for my qi signature. It won't open for anyone else." At Hong-er's blank face, he explained. "That's my spiritual energy. I can coat my skin with it, and a talisman built into the door will respond to it and allow the door to be opened."

Hong-er thought about that for a moment before nodding seriously. "Alright."

Xie Lian's smile widened. "I'm glad you approve, then. Let's go."

He stepped into the hallway, waiting for Hong-er to follow before closing the door to his room and leading him down the hallway. The walls seemed to press in on them, and Xie Lian lit a small palm light to illuminate their path.

They walked past the fireplace of Xie Lian's room, where the fire was still burning bright and tinting part of the hallway orange, and down a flight of steps.

Xie Lian had always enjoyed sneaking around the hidden hallways. It was almost like being underground, even though they were two levels above the ground. Most importantly, it was one of the few places where Xie Lian could feel unobserved.

Finally, they reached another narrow door that opened without any qi at all to reveal a hallway near the servants' quarters. "See," he told Hong-er, "it's not so far from your room."

Hong-er stepped out and looked like he was about to say goodbye and leave, when Xie Lian started laughing. "Where are you going?"

The boy froze, and Xie Lian pulled him back through the door. "Now, what do you think the guards will think if you go into my room and never come out again? No, I'm afraid you will have to take the long way around."

Once they were back in his room, Xie Lian sat the now very tired Hong-er down on his bed and went to his dressing table. His jewelry box was overflowing, and he didn't need long to find something appropriate: a delicate silver necklace with a blood red teardrop gem as a pendant. It seemed appropriate, in a way.

He sat down at his desk and pulled out some parchment, a knife, and a calligraphy brush. It was the work of a few moments to cut his palm and draw a sigil on the parchment with his blood. He filled the necklace with his qi until the little jewel couldn't hold any more and laid it on the talisman. He activated it, and the spell sank into the necklace, trapping his qi and preventing it from fading over time.

Finally, he healed his cut and brought the finished necklace over to Hong-er, whose head shot up quickly. It seemed he had been nodding off.

"I'm sorry to have kept you awake for so long," Xie Lian said gently.

But Hong-er only shook his head. "I'm not tired."

Xie Lian tactfully didn't reply to that. Instead, he held the necklace out to him. "Here, this is for you. It has my qi signature, so you only have to tap the gem against the inside of the door, and it will open for you."

Hong-er grew very still before taking the necklace with trembling fingers. "…for me?"

He nodded. "Take good care of it and don't give it away to anybody else. Anyone could use it to sneak into my room, so I'm placing my trust in you, alright?"

To his surprise, Hong-er held the necklace out to him again. "I can't take that," he said, his voice high with distress. "It's too valuable!"

Xie Lian stared down at him, nonplussed. "But I'm giving it to you," he tried. "Really, I have more necklaces than I can count."

But Hong-er's face didn't get any less unhappy.

Xie Lian sighed and sat down next to him. "How unfortunate. I put so much work into it, and now I'll have to undo it all again and figure out something else."

As he spoke, Hong-er's hand, still holding the necklace, slowly lowered until it was hovering above his lap, and his expression turned concerned instead. Xie Lian sighed again, even heavier, and reached out to take the necklace from him. "Alright, I suppose if you don't like it…"

"I like it!" Hong-er yelped and pulled his hand back. They stared at each other for a moment before Hong-er lowered his head in defeat.

Xie Lian patted his head and, too quickly for Hong-er to react, stole the necklace from his hand and slipped it over his head. It settled against his thin chest, a precious glint against the rough fabric of the apprentice uniform of the royal guard.

Hong-er looked down at it for a long moment before quietly slipping it underneath his neckline.

"Alright now," Xie Lian said, "let's get you to bed."

The guards gave them questioning glances when they finally opened the door, but Xie Lian reassured them with a rueful smile. Hong-er left with a last wave, and Xie Lian retreated back into his room.

It was strangely quiet in the wake of Hong-er's visit, and Xie Lian spent a long moment leaning his back against the door and letting the evening pass through his mind again.

He wouldn't mind Hong-er visiting again soon.

Chapter Text

He stayed for many days, sharing stories, food, and laughter. But eventually, he remembered his home, where his family and his duties waited for him. He told the people of the valley farewell and promised he would come back, but they shook their heads and warned him that once he left, he would never be able to return.

In the coming months, Hong-er's nightly visits soon grew routine, until Xie Lian spent at least two or three evenings of his week teaching him. What had originally only been a few sword forms quickly became whole sequences, small practice fights, and the basics of cultivation.

Once Hong-er relaxed a little, he learned with a speed and eagerness that swept Xie Lian up in its current, and he frequently needed to remind himself to take it slow and not overwhelm the boy.

Their growing closeness did not go unnoticed forever. Xie Lian tried to be discreet, but he still couldn't help but smile at Hong-er when he saw him in the hallways, make detours to the training hall to watch his progress, or pull him aside now and then for a quick chat and a hug. It made the boy happy and, if Xie Lian was to be honest, it made him happy too.

Of course, that could only go on for so long before the consequences of his actions caught up to him.

First, only Feng Xin and Mu Qing noticed. Mu Qing didn't say anything, but his expression made his feelings clear enough; he wasn't happy about Xie Lian and Hong-er's growing relationship, but refrained from saying anything except for the occasional derisive scoff.

Feng Xin, however, surprised him. For a while, he did nothing but watch with an unusually pensive expression on his face. Then, one day, Xie Lian made his usual detour to the training grounds when he knew Hong-er was practicing and found the boy already monopolized.

Feng Xin stood next to him, his bow in hand, seemingly explaining to Hong-er how it worked.

Hong-er looked like a distrustful cat. His shoulders were tense, and his face had a glum expression, as if he couldn't quite decide whether to stay or kick Feng Xin's shin and run away. But he listened to what Feng Xin told him, and Xie Lian leaned his shoulder against the doorframe and tried to untangle the feelings that rose in him at the sight.

But before long, Hong-er caught sight of him and left Feng Xin behind without a second thought. The uncomfortable little frisson of jealousy in Xie Lian's chest dissipated, and he greeted Hong-er with a smile.

Over his head, Feng Xin and Xie Lian's eyes met, and Feng Xin gave him an embarrassed look. Xie Lian's smile grew wider, amusement winning over anything else.

Feng Xin must have noticed Xie Lian's interest in Hong-er and felt inspired to try his hand at some friendly teaching himself. He supposed this could only be good for Hong-er.

Then, Qi Rong found out.

Xie Lian didn't know how; if he had overheard some servants talk or if he had seen Hong-er by coincidence, but he came across Qi Rong holding a struggling Hong-er up by the back of his collar.

Hong-er was utterly silent, putting all his energy towards trying to kick and hit whatever he could reach. Qi Rong was loud enough for both of them, anyway.

"What, you thought you could come here and play the victim so Cousin Crown Prince would take you in like an ugly, pathetic dog?" He laughed, but there was no amusement on his face. "Well, you thought wrong! I'm going to drown you in the pond, since you want to be a mutt so badly. Do you understand me? I'm going to fucking kill you! Should have done it months ago, you little—"

"Qi Rong!"

Xie Lian strode into the room, and Qi Rong grew pale and let Hong-er fall to the ground. "C-Cousin Crown Prince, you… You're here."

He grabbed Hong-er by the shoulder and pulled him behind himself. The boy was shaking like a leaf and stumbled more than he walked, holding on to Xie Lian's arm to keep himself upright. Qi Rong's eyes followed the movement, and the manic light returned to them. "Don't you fucking touch him, you pest!"

"No," Xie Lian cut him off, just as angry, and Qi Rong looked at him with surprise, "you stop talking now and listen to me. You don’t treat Hong-er like this, and you certainly don’t threaten him."

Qi Rong's face showed an utter lack of understanding. "Cousin Crown Prince, are you well? He's nothing but dirt off the streets. What right does he have to touch you? He should be whipped for the offense!"

Xie Lian rubbed his forehead, trying to keep down the anger and violence he could feel bubbling up. How did Qi Rong always manage to bring out the worst in him?

"Qi Rong," he said, his voice low and quiet with restraint, "I will try to lay it out to you in simple terms. I brought Hong-er to the palace to become part of the royal guard. He's under my protection. If anything happens to him, I will punish the person responsible myself."

As his words registered, Qi Rong started to look hurt. "What, even me? You're choosing him over your own family?"

Xie Lian grimaced and pushed Hong-er further behind him. "It's not like that. He belongs to me, and so no one can touch him but me, do you understand?” It was an overly simplistic explanation, but it was the only one he thought Qi Rong might understand.

For a long moment, Qi Rong's expression didn't change. Then, his eyes grew wide, and he started smiling before breaking out into ringing laughter. He doubled over, and his laughter took on a decidedly deranged note. "So it's like that? That's the kind of thing you like?" He gasped for air. "Who would have thought! No wonder you were never interested in whores. Should have said so from the beginning!"

"What?" Xie Lian needed a long moment to understand what Qi Rong was implying. When he did, his insides shriveled in disgust, and his face started burning with shame. "No! What, no, I'm not—Qi Rong, it's not like—"

He couldn't finish the sentence before being interrupted by peals of laughter. Never before had he been so tempted to beat Qi Rong up, but with his luck, Qi Rong would only take it as confirmation. "Qi Rong, that's disgusting! It's not like that! Would you—Would you shut up?"

It took a long while until Qi Rong calmed down enough to listen, and even then, there was something desperate and vicious about him. "Sure, sure, whatever you say, Cousin Crown Prince. Please spare me the details, I don't want to know. I won't touch your little pet as long as he shows me the respect I deserve, alright?" He giggled a bit. "I'm so magnanimous. You can thank me later."

Xie Lian watched as he left the room, still muttering and giggling intermittently, uncertain what he could say to fix the situation. When Qi Rong was gone, he stayed still, scared of seeing the expression on Hong-er's face.

But the silence remained unbroken, and eventually, Xie Lian gathered up his courage and turned around. Hong-er was staring at the floor, a strange expression underneath the bandages covering his eye.

Xie Lian crouched down before him and awkwardly asked, "Are you alright?"

Hong-er looked up at him with furrowed brows. "I'm alright. I don't understand, though. What did he mean?"

He exhaled in relief. So Hong-er hadn't understood. That was probably for the best. "Don't mind him. He was just saying stupid things."

Hong-er still looked confused, but nodded after a moment.

"Are you afraid?" Xie Lian asked gently.

To his surprise, Hong-er balled his hands into fists and said darkly, "No. I'm not afraid."

Xie Lian doubtfully took in his pale face and shaking knees, but tactfully refrained from saying anything. "Good, good. If he tries anything again, just come to me, alright? He shouldn't, and I will keep an eye on him, but just in case."

He received another nod, sighed, and stood. "Come on then, shouldn't you be in training?”

Hong-er visited Xie Lian that night.

For a second, Qi Rong's words came back to him, and he felt uncomfortable as it suddenly occurred to him how their arrangement could look to an outsider. But what was he supposed to do now, push the boy away? That didn't seem fair to Hong-er. And in any case, Qi Rong's words were so ridiculous that they were barely worth any consideration anyway.

"Done for the day?" he asked.

Hong-er made a noise of assent and came over to sit next to him on the bed. His feet still didn't quite reach the floor, and so, his legs dangled over the edge of the bed. Xie Lian watched, and fondness rose in his chest. Qi Rong was really sick. How could anyone look at this child and want to do anything but protect and care for him?

He abruptly realized that the boy had really been having a hard few months, with the change in environment, the rigorous training, and the emotional ups and downs. He looked tired, and Xie Lian suddenly felt indulgent, like he wanted to tuck him into bed and make sure he got a good night's sleep. "We don't have to train today," he said.

But at his words, life returned to Hong-er, and he sat up straight, his eyes blazing. "No, I want to train! Your Highness, how am I going to get better otherwise?"

Xie Lian laughed and gave in easily.

Still, he kept their training session short that evening and stopped when Hong-er started to wipe the sweat off his brow.

The sight of him having to turn away and awkwardly lift his bandages to wipe his face made Xie Lian aware of them in a way he hadn't been for some time now. He didn't say anything at first, merely putting away the swords and finally joining Hong-er on the bed.

Only then did he say, "Hong-er, can I ask you something?"

The boy immediately looked up at him, his face attentive, and nodded.

"These bandages on your face…" Xie Lian hesitated when Hong-er immediately shrank into himself. "You're not hurt, are you?"

Hong-er intently stared down at his knees. After a long moment, he shook his head.

That didn't inspire trust. Xie Lian suddenly regretted not having pushed sooner. He vaguely remembered that he had asked Hong-er before, but the boy might very well have lied. The only assurance was that the visible skin around the bandages didn't seem inflamed.

"Can I see?" he tried next. "I promise I'm not going to make you do anything, I just want to make sure that everything's alright."

Hong-er remained stubbornly silent, but now, his hands were gripping the sheets on either side of his legs so hard that Xie Lian was briefly worried about them ripping.

He waited, thinking that an answer would come eventually, but after a long time, it became clear that Hong-er wouldn't say anything.

"I'm not going to force you," Xie Lian sighed. "I'm just worried. Can you at least tell me what's underneath the bandages?"

Hong-er twitched, and Xie Lian pounced on that sign of weakness. "Is it an open wound?" That was his biggest worry, but once again, Hong-er shook his head.

"Scars?"

This time, Hong-er hesitated for a moment and then nodded. Xie Lian breathed a sigh of relief. As long as it was only scars…

"You can show me, you know?" he said gently. "I'm not going to judge."

"It's ugly," Hong-er murmured.

"Scars aren't ugly," Xie Lian retorted. "They're a sign that you survived. You should wear them as a badge of honor. General Li has scars too, and they aren't ugly, are they?"

Hong-er shrugged.

After another moment of fruitless waiting, Xie Lian gave up. Frustrated impatience boiled in him. He was sure that if he could just convince Hong-er to show him, he could work on dispelling his insecurities. But there really was no sense in forcing him, and so Xie Lian reluctantly backed down.

"Alright, alright. Are you ready to go to bed, then?"

"I'm not tired yet," Hong-er muttered.

Xie Lian hummed. He didn't think it would be a good idea to train any more today, but there might be something else they could do, something he had been pondering in the back of his mind for a while. "Say, Hong-er, would you like to attempt some calligraphy?"

The boy looked at him with a wide-eyed, panicked expression.

"Come on." Xie Lian patted his shoulder. "Let's try it. After all, calligraphy is something every gentleman should excel in."

Somehow, Hong-er got even paler, but he obediently followed Xie Lian to his writing desk, where, after some deliberation, he chose a poem scroll from the shelf above and spread it out on the table. He helped Hong-er sit down on a cushion and laid out some parchment and a brush for him.

Xie Lian had never ground ink for someone before, but it wasn't a difficult chore. He folded back his sleeves and poured a small amount of water out of the flask onto the inkstone. Then, he took the inkstick and started to grind it on the stone in circular motions.

Hong-er silently watched him, his previously pale face gaining a blush. Xie Lian was only glad that he didn't look close to fainting anymore; he didn't mind debasing himself a little for a good cause.

Finally, he sat down next to Hong-er and held out the brush for him. "Would you copy this poem for me, so I know where you're at?"

Any progress they had made in getting Hong-er comfortable abruptly vanished. He eyed the brush as if it were a poisonous snake and waited a few seconds before taking it. "Your Highness, I…"

"Hm?"

He fell silent again and stared hard at the characters before him. Slowly, it dawned on Xie Lian that something was wrong. But, before he could say anything, Hong-er suddenly brought the brush down hard, ink droplets splattering over the parchment, and copied the first character in wild, shaky lines.

Xie Lian looked on in horror. After the first character was done, an unrecognizable, demonic thing, Hong-er dipped the brush into the ink again with a highly concentrated look on his face.

"Wait, wait!" Xie Lian quickly said and hastily took the brush out of Hong-er's hand. "Hong-er, you…" He fell quiet when he saw the boy's nervous expression. "Have you ever written anything before?"

Hong-er shook his head.

"Then," Xie Lian continued, and he couldn't believe that he had not thought about it before, "can you even read?"

"Just a little," Hong-er muttered, his face lowered.

Xie Lian sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry, Hong-er. Once again, I didn't think. Of course you haven't learned how to read and write, where would you have?"

He considered the matter for a moment. "We will just have to start from the beginning, then. I'll teach you how to read and write. These are important skills to have, especially if you are to be part of the royal guard."

Hong-er made a face. "But what about training?"

"We'll still train," Xie Lian reassured him. "But you're making good progress, so I don't think it would be wrong to spend some time on this as well."

Still, Hong-er didn't look too enthused.

"It's maybe not the most exciting," Xie Lian admitted. "But won't you try your best for me anyway?"

Hong-er, as he had expected, immediately gave in and resigned himself to his suffering. Xie Lian grinned and started looking for better beginner's materials.

He might have gotten a bit carried away, because when they finally stopped, it was late into the night and Hong-er was falling asleep where he sat.

Xie Lian watched him for a while. Before them, a mess of parchment paper was spread out over the low table, covered in Hong-er's frankly atrocious handwriting. The talent the boy had for martial arts, he utterly lacked in calligraphy, and Xie Lian was starting to feel hopeless in his teaching skills. Still, he had continued practicing so earnestly and single-mindedly that Xie Lian did not have the heart to give up either.

When the brush started to fall out of Hong-er's hand, Xie Lian took it from him. The movement woke Hong-er, and he sat upright with a startled expression.

"It's late," Xie Lian said gently. "Let's get you to bed."

Hong-er nodded and stood. But, after taking a few steps towards the hidden doorway, he suddenly swayed and would have fallen over if Xie Lian had not steadied him in time.

"Sorry, Your Highness," Hong-er half-slurred.

Xie Lian squeezed his shoulder. He thought about the long way back to Hong-er's bedroom. "You know what," he finally said. "Why don't you just spend the night here? The bed is big enough, and I promise to wake you up in time tomorrow."

It was a mark of just how tired Hong-er was that he didn’t bother arguing much. He washed his face and dressed down to his inner robes before crawling into Xie Lian's bed until he lay snug against the wooden wall of the frame.

Xie Lian tugged the blanket out from underneath Hong-er's body and threw it over him, covering his face as well. A quiet giggle came from underneath the blanket, and Xie Lian smiled, affection squeezing his chest tight.

He went to get ready for bed himself, and when he came back, Hong-er was already deeply asleep. Only a lump beneath the blankets and a shock of dark hair spilling out over the pillow betrayed he was there at all.

Xie Lian snuffed out the last candle and joined him. It felt a bit strange to share his bed with someone else, and for a short, ridiculous moment, he worried about whether he snored.

Then, he quietly scoffed. So what if he did? He doubted Hong-er, of all people, who chewed with his mouth open, would care.

Xie Lian lay awake for some time, watching the shadows move on the ceiling and letting his mind replay the events of the day.

Eventually, Hong-er's soft breaths lulled him to sleep.

After the anxiety and unpleasant feelings about Qi Rong’s reaction had faded, things began to return to normal. Xie Lian was nervous for a while that Qi Rong would spread rumors, but when weeks went by without anything happening, he slowly started to relax.

Hong-er continued coming to his room, now for writing and reading lessons as much as training, and while his swordsmanship and physical endurance slowly improved, his calligraphy did not.

Him spending the night in Xie Lian's bed didn't stay a one-time thing. They were both bad at stopping their training sessions at an appropriate time, and so they often stayed up later than planned.

In truth, he didn’t mind. It was pleasant to have a soothing presence next to him when he slept, and Xie Lian was quickly growing very fond of the boy. It was not a hardship to pat his head and wish him a good night when they went to bed, or to laugh at his displeased expression and horrible bed hair when he woke up.

It wasn't until later, when summer gave way to a chilly, colorful fall, that Xie Lian truly realized just how much his life had changed.

Xie Lian had been looking for his mother, confused when he couldn’t find her in any of her usual spots, until a servant directed him to the palace's gardens. Expecting to find her in one of the pavilions, Xie Lian made his way outside, only to be surprised.

"I must thank you," Xie Lian heard his mother say, and he stopped. He could see her where she was kneeling on the ground, a short distance away from the gardeners. She was planting a young tree, and the sight of dirt on her flawless, manicured hands momentarily froze him. Hong-er was standing behind her, his whole posture stiff and awkward.

"It's because of you that he has stayed in the palace for so long," she continued, and Xie Lian didn’t need to wonder who 'he' was. "I used to barely be able to get him to come visit once a month. I'm so happy that he has finally found something to stay for."

Hong-er shook his head. "I don't know if that's true."

The queen looked up and smiled at him. "You're so modest, my little flower. I assure you, though, that it is as I say."

Hong-er somehow grew even more embarrassed and abruptly lurched to the side, where a bundle of trees was lying on the ground.

Before he could do more than take one, the queen reached over and took the tree out of his hand. "Now, I told you to stop it, Hong-er," she said strictly. "I so rarely get to do anything hands-on; don't take away my entertainment, will you?"

Hong-er let her take the tree with a sullen expression and went back to impersonating a wooden statue. "I could bring you some tea."

"Isn't it enough that I want your company? I'm so lonely, I need a little chat now and then."

Hong-er looked decidedly doubtful at that, but finally stopped resisting. "Why are you planting all these trees, Your Majesty?"

She was silent for a moment as she gathered her thoughts.

"Did you know there is a peach tree grove on Mount Taicang? Lian-er used to spend so much time there, I thought he might miss it. If nothing else, I can bring a part of it here to ease his heart."

Xie Lian stepped back so he was hidden behind the beams of the covered corridor and balled his hands into fists. Conflicting emotions warred in his chest, and in the end, he could hardly make sense of any one of them.

After a long moment of silence, he heard Hong-er ask, "Is it my fault?"

"It's not about fault," the queen answered. "Having to face one's duties is a part of growing up. You were just the catalyst." She put her tools aside and stood, brushing the dirt off her skirts. "And I'm grateful to you for that. Every change is hard, especially for Xie Lian, but it's necessary, too. And I believe that you make him quite happy."

Xie Lian took a step back. Then, he turned around and quickly walked back the way he came. His mother's words echoed in his head. He felt exposed, like someone had flayed him and exposed his organs for the world to see. He couldn't even say what exactly about his mother's words had shaken him like this, but they had nonetheless.

Maybe it was that she had spoken a truth out loud that Xie Lian had not quite admitted yet to himself.

Hong-er made him happy. He used to want to leave the palace as much as possible, but now, he had something he was looking forward to. Someone he wanted to stay for.

He liked this surly, anxious boy he had brought home. He wanted to protect him and see him grow and learn. He did not want Hong-er to stop visiting him at night or sleep next to him. If he could spend his future like that, with little training sessions and conversations about swords and cultivation, and simple, casual affection, he thought he could be quite happy.

On his way home, the fisherman put up markers so he could find the valley again. When he reached the little village that was his home, he told his family about what he had seen, and they left to live in the peach blossom valley.

Years passed in what felt like the blink of an eye.

Hong-er continued to grow up and started to take over more and more responsibilities in the royal guard. Their night-time training sessions had not been necessary for a long time at that point, with Hong-er already having surpassed all of his fellow trainees by leaps and bounds, and yet he faithfully visited a few days a week and asked Xie Lian to instruct him.

When Xie Lian turned twenty, the palace prepared an elaborate celebration for his coming-of-age ceremony, and Xie Lian received his guan amidst the cheering of thousands of people. There were presents and a feast and the well-wishes of his family and friends. And there was Hong-er, who looked at him, blushing and starry-eyed, and left a flower on his bedside table.

After that, his father started to increasingly involve him in the court's politics. Xie Lian became a common sight when his father held court and met with his advisors.

For the first time, he realized just how sheltered he had been from both the court's intrigues and the larger issues of the kingdom. Yong'An was having a dry year and asking for support, two provinces up in the north were having a dispute over land, Yun Xi was facing rebellion from the farmers, and no one appreciated Xie Lian's thoughts and suggestions.

Naive, they called him. Overly idealistic and inexperienced. Xie Lian tried not to pay them any heed until his father took him aside and sternly ordered him to listen, observe, and keep his mouth shut.

Never before had Xie Lian been so humbled. It hurt his ego as much as his sense of justice, and he could not help but feel rather sullen and depressed about it.

Reluctantly, he listened to his father. The next time he attended court, he reigned in his ideas and opinions and sat there, red-faced with shame and his heart filled with resentment, and observed.

The court was not what he had expected it to be. For most of his childhood, Xie Lian had had this vague idea of his father being a wise king, ruling from his throne while his advisors respectfully shared their thoughts with him now and then.

It was not like that.

The court meetings were a veritable battlefield. His father gave himself one headache after another as he negotiated with the advisors, kept peace between them, and tried to find compromises. The advisors themselves spent more time trying to realize their own selfish interests than thinking about the good of the kingdom, and often ended up screaming at each other like children.

In short, no one in that room was particularly dignified, wise, or respectful. It was like a hard slap in the face, and Xie Lian's mood did not improve for it.

Sometimes, he observed his cousin, An Zhu, who was his age and had also only just started to accompany his own father, Xie Lian's uncle, to court.

An Zhu was a quiet, unassuming boy with sharp eyes. He did not bother trying to bring in his own ideas as Xie Lian had done at first, merely standing silently behind his father. He did not seem to be bothered by the blatant avarice and ridiculous behaviour of the officials in the room, given how respectful and full of praise he was every time he was addressed.

Seeing his only possible companion so unbothered left Xie Lian feeling desperately lonely.

His occasional visits to the Royal Holy Pavilion grew into a temptation. Every time, the urge to delay his return to the Palace, to just stay, grew stronger. But then he thought of Hong-er waiting for him, gritted his teeth, and went home.

Time passed, and he learned, albeit slowly and unwillingly.

He learned that there was a certain way to say things to get what he wanted, he learned to kill his sense of shame and dignity, and most importantly, he learned to negotiate. Eventually, his father grew less ashamed of him, even though he and Xie Lian still butted heads every other week.

But Xie Lian was listened to now, and that was what mattered, even though he often had to settle for unsatisfying results.

At least there was Hong-er, who, as he grew older, could discuss more and more of the problems Xie Lian encountered in court with him. Unlike Mu Qing, who also thought Xie Lian was too idealistic, and Feng Xin, who had no patience for politics at all, Hong-er listened to him carefully and provided thoughtful advice. It wasn't always good advice–sometimes he would merely lie next to Xie Lian on the bed and describe what unfortunate fates might befall the official who had annoyed Xie Lian that day–but it always made him feel better.

Hong-er, too, changed.

He grew tall, taller than Xie Lian–something he had mixed feelings about. His face grew defined and angular, and his tongue increasingly sharp. His voice started breaking, wavering between a croak that kept Hong-er mute out of embarrassment and a deep timbre, before eventually settling into the lower octave. The bandages around half his face were replaced by a single, broad strap of dark cloth that blended into his wild fringe.

Most importantly, half a year after he turned sixteen, General Li declared that he had nothing left to teach Hong-er and that his training was therefore over.

Hong-er became a royal guard before most of his fellow trainees, and with a skill surpassed only by Xie Lian’s own.

To reward him, Xie Lian gave him a gift; a beautiful, sleek saber with the character Hong carved onto the blade. It was the first blade Hong-er could call his own, and he carefully took it from Xie Lian’s hands with an awed expression.

“You deserve it,” Xie Lian told him before Hong-er could start doubting himself. “You've succeeded all my expectations, and they were high to begin with. You've done so well, and I couldn't be prouder.”

Hong-er ducked his reddening face, but gripped the saber tightly. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“I expect you'll be very busy from now on, as part of the royal guard…” And Xie Lian made sure to keep his tone light, but he couldn't help but feel a sliver of real worry at the thought.

Hong-er looked up, his brow furrowing. “I will never be too busy for you, Gege.”

At his serious face, Xie Lian finally had to laugh. “That's good, that's good. And who knows, maybe now and again, I'll request you specifically as a guard when I go out.”

That, too, had been said jokingly, but Hong-er’s immediate hopeful look reignited some idle thoughts Xie Lian had been having of requesting Hong-er as his personal guard. He had wanted to give the boy some freedom, but perhaps, if Hong-er didn't mind…

“We'll see,” he finally said, both to Hong-er and in response to his thoughts. “In any case, I believe Feng Xin has been wanting to take you out to the market to celebrate. You shouldn't keep him waiting.”

Reluctantly, Hong-er said goodbye and left. Xie Lian watched him go with a smile on his face, tentatively looking forward to what the future would bring.

In the end, this plan, like so many others, was never realized. For only a few months later, things took a turn for the worse.

Chapter Text

They followed the markers the fisherman had set up, but when they reached the valley, the peach trees were bare and the people gray. There was no music and laughter anymore. The peach blossom valley of the fisherman's story had vanished.

"There is…" Xie Lian hesitated for a long moment. He and Hong-er were lying in bed, finally resting after a long day of work. They were lying on their sides, and Hong-er's hands were tucked underneath his chin as he looked at Xie Lian with a shining eye.

Pinned under such a look, he almost couldn't say what he had to. But Hong-er had asked, and at this point, he would find out eventually. Better it was from Xie Lian than someone else.

"There has been some unrest," he finally continued. "The refugees from Yong'An are gathering and organizing themselves. There have been some skirmishes between them and Xian Le's soldiers. Some have been thrown into prison, but their numbers only seem to grow. Some people worry that Yong'An is sending reinforcements with the goal of toppling the government and taking over."

Hong-er quickly sat up, and Xie Lian dragged his eyes up the long lines of his body to his concerned face. "Will there be a war?"

Xie Lian shook his head. "I don't think it will come to that. We're working on a solution, but it's a tense situation."

"Is that why you've been so busy, Gege?"

Xie Lian made an agreeing noise and sat up as well to apologetically stroke his hand down Hong-er's arm. "I'm sorry. I know I haven't had as much time for you recently as I'd like."

Hong-er ducked his head, hiding his blush. "It wasn't an accusation."

"I know." Xie Lian smiled ruefully. "It's just that I missed you as well. I was very disappointed that we didn't manage to go to the festival together last week."

Hong-er looked up hopefully. "Really?"

Xie Lian couldn't help but smile at his expression and reached up to tuck a strand of his wild hair behind his ear where it had escaped his ponytail. "Of course. I wouldn't have missed it if I'd had a choice. As it was, though," he grimaced, "there have been meetings upon meetings. No escape for me."

Hong-er smiled cheekily. "Poor Gege. Would a massage help with the stress?"

"I'm not an old man yet," Xie Lian laughed and playfully pushed him over. Hong-er flopped into the sheets without resistance, the smile on his face turning into a wide grin.

But after a moment, they grew serious again.

"If the situation escalates, will you have to fight?" Hong-er asked.

Xie Lian quietly stroked his hand over the bedding. After a long moment, he said, "It's not that simple. As the crown prince, I have a responsibility to find the best solution possible. The solution that prevents the most deaths."

"What solution is that?" Hong-er asked doubtfully. "Wouldn't it be better to just beat the rebellion down?"

Xie Lian shook his head. "There's a reason why they are rebelling. If they declare war on Xian Le, of course we will have to fight, but ideally, we will manage to negotiate for peace by giving them what they need."

Hong-er pondered that for a while with a serious expression. Eventually, his face grew determined. "If it comes to war anyway, I will fight for Xian Le."

"No!" He moved before he knew it, grabbing Hong-er's shoulders tightly and almost pushing him down again in his sudden panic. "You aren't going to fight. Do you understand? I absolutely forbid it!"

Hong-er stared at him, his eye wide with surprise. Then, he seemed to catch himself and furrowed his brows. "What? But, Your Highness, that's what I trained for all these years, to fight for and serve you!"

"Nonsense," Xie Lian said sternly, desperately trying to control his anxiety before he did something horrible like scream at Hong-er. "I took you to the palace and ensured you would get to stay to give you a better life! Do you think I would want you to throw it away now?"

"So what, do you want me to just stay in the palace doing nothing while you’re out there, risking your life?" Now Hong-er's mouth twisted into an unhappy line, and he stared at him with the stubbornness so typical of him.

"Yes. That is exactly what I want you to do."

Hong-er leaned back, and something in his eye hardened. "Your Highness, that is impossible. If it comes to war, the royal guard will have to fight. I'm part of the royal guard, so naturally I will fight too."

Xie Lian glared at him. "Not as long as I have anything to say. You're too young to fight in a war."

"I'm almost seventeen!" Hong-er said heatedly, and Xie Lian snorted.

"Seventeen is—" He abruptly stopped, remembering that when he had been seventeen, he had wanted to ascend. He had been so convinced he would, until years of court politics and practicing diplomacy had brought him down hard into reality and killed any fancy notion he had been entertaining. When he thought about ascension now, it seemed like a dream, pale and vague in comparison to his very real duties.

Looking at Hong-er now, he seemed barely more than a child to Xie Lian. How could he send him to war and watch that light in his eye die? How could he watch Hong-er die at all? He couldn't. If Hong-er died, Xie Lian really wouldn't know what to do.

"Hong-er," he croaked, suddenly overcome with a helpless, pre-emptive sorrow, "don't you know that you're precious to me? Do you think I could just throw you away like that?"

"It wouldn't be throwing me away," Hong-er insisted, his dark eye feverish with something fanatic. "I could be useful. I could make you proud!"

Xie Lian made a choked, angry noise and pulled Hong-er into his arms. "You already make me proud," he said, half-muffled by dark, wild hair. "You don't have to do anything for that."

After a long moment, Hong-er set his forehead against Xie Lian's shoulder and relaxed in his embrace. Then, he quietly said, “Gege?”

“Hm?”

“The drought and… and the war–” He stopped for a second, his body utterly still against Xie Lian. “You don’t think it’s a curse, do you?”

Surprised, Xie Lian gave a short laugh. “A curse? Why do you think so?”

Silence again, this one even longer than the one before. Finally, Hong-er breathed a single word against Xie Lian’s collar. “Guoshi…”

“Oh,” he snorted, finally understanding what the boy was thinking of. “You don’t believe in his nonsense, do you? What are fate and the will of Heaven? Aren’t they just smoke and mirrors?” He shook his head and swayed them back and forth, tucking Hong-er into his arms more securely. “Don’t put too much weight on what he says, dear. He looks at the stars and reads your eight characters and completely forgets what actually goes on in the world. What he says might come true or it might not, who knows?”

But Hong-er didn’t seem to be completely reassured yet. “About my eight characters… he said–”

“That you’re unlucky?”

Hong-er drew back, out of Xie Lian’s arms, and nodded grimly. “That I would bring misfortune wherever I went.”

Xie Lian scoffed and squeezed his shoulders. “Well, that can’t be right.” Hong-er looked up at him in confusion, and Xie Lian smiled cheekily. “Getting to know you was the luckiest thing that ever happened to me.”

Hong-er made a wheezing sound and turned fire-red. Xie Lian laughed loudly in response and pulled him close again.

They kept to lighter topics until they went to sleep, simply enjoying each other’s company, and even though Hong-er didn’t argue the matter further, he stayed strangely quiet for the rest of the night.

War broke out two weeks later.

Hong-er was already waiting for him when he left the meeting room. The ministers and generals brushed past Xie Lian on their way out, but he did not move, frozen by the look in that dark eye.

Finally, he made his body move over to where the boy was waiting.

"Your Highness?" Hong-er said, his voice thick with dread.

Xie Lian lowered his face. "I will travel to Yong'an in three days to try and negotiate for a peace agreement."

Hong-er opened his mouth and said what Xie Lian was most afraid of hearing. "Let me come with you!"

He closed his eyes and exhaled quietly. "No."

It seemed Hong-er had already expected this answer, because he didn't waste any time being surprised before he asked, "Why not? Your Highness, please trust me! I'm a good fighter, and you'll need people to accompany you. Why can't I—"

Xie Lian opened his eyes and shouted, "Because I am your prince, and I say no!"

Silence fell between them, only interrupted by Xie Lian's heavy breathing. Dimly, he realized he was overreacting, but he had just been in a meeting for many hours, and he was tired and stressed, and they had had a similar conversation just a while ago.

Hong-er looked at him, wide-eyed and pale, so shocked that he seemed wounded. Regret crept its way into Xie Lian's heart. He had been too harsh. It wasn't Hong-er's fault that Xie Lian was irritated and tired; he was only trying to help.

Xie Lian sighed. "I'm sorry, Hong-er. It's been a long day. Still, I shouldn't have yelled at you."

Immediately, Hong-er's face turned hopeful again. "So…"

He felt a stab of annoyance. Why couldn't Hong-er understand that he needed him here, safe and sound? His voice turned cold as he said, "Still no. Don't argue with me, I won't change my mind."

Hong-er's expression grew sullen, and he glared down at the floor. "I don't understand."

Xie Lian stared at him and once again realized just how young Hong-er still was. How could he have forgotten? It seemed like, somewhere along the way, he had started to treat Hong-er as an equal. But now, it was painfully obvious just how scared and stubborn the boy was, and how little he understood the situation.

He took him by the shoulders and forced him back a few steps, out of earshot of any lingering nobles. "Listen to me, Hong-er. Do you remember why my mother called you little flower in the first place?"

Hong-er furrowed his brows. "Because when you caught me at the Shangyuan parade, I looked like a red flower from a distance?"

Xie Lian nodded. "A sword in one hand, a flower in the other, that's what they say, isn't it? I need both the flower and the sword. A good warrior doesn't fight for no reason. They fight to protect what's important to them. And without my flower, what do I have left to fight for?"

Hong-er looked up, and a blush spread over his cheeks. "Gege," he whispered.

He tightened his grip on the boy's shoulders. "Give me something to fight for, alright? Let me come back home to you."

A breath, and then Hong-er swayed forward in his grip, coming too close, and for one confused moment, Xie Lian didn't know whether they would hug or—

The moment passed, and Hong-er fell into his arms. "Alright," he said. "Alright, Gege, I'll stay."

Now, you might wonder what had happened to the peach blossom valley. The answer is this:

"Be good, yes?" Xie Lian reached up and framed Hong-er's cheeks in his hands. Sometimes he could barely believe how far the boy had come, just how much he had grown.

Still, he would be damned if he let him come with him. If anything happened to Hong-er, Xie Lian would never forgive himself. No, he needed to stay here, in the palace, where it was safe. Where he would wait for his return, anxious and eager to welcome him back. Xie Lian turned the thought over with some pleasure before tucking it away in some corner of his mind.

It would keep him warm during the cold nights of travel ahead.

Hong-er nodded, but his face was grim. "Don't worry about me, Your Highness. Please just be careful and come back soon." He hesitated for a moment. "Are you sure—"

"I'm sure," Xie Lian said firmly. "Just wait, we will see each other again before you know it. Until then, just be patient."

Hong-er lowered his head and finally bowed. "Safe travels, Your Highness. I hope everything goes well."

Xie Lian sighed at the sudden return of distant formality, but he accepted that this was likely the best he would get. "Thank you. I'll be back soon. Until then, be well, my little flower."

He turned to Feng Xin, who somehow looked even more nervous than Hong-er. "Your Highness, are you really sure…"

Xie Lian took a leaf out of Mu Qing's book and rolled his eyes. Then, he patted Feng Xin's shoulder. "You're needed here. You and Mu Qing," he said with a look over at where Mu Qing stood with his arms crossed, trying very hard to look impassive. "You're of much more use leading the army than accompanying me. And I have very skilled soldiers with me, you don't need to worry."

Feng Xin nodded, although he didn't look happy about it. "It will be the first time I'm not going with you somewhere."

Affection flooded Xie Lian, and he smiled. "You're right. I will miss both of you terribly."

Mu Qing clicked his tongue. "You'll be too busy to miss us, I would think. Just make sure you don't say anything stupid. Or get worked up at the idiotic things they say."

Xie Lian laughed awkwardly. "You're right, of course. I will try my best." He scratched his cheek, unsure how to say goodbye. "Look after Hong-er for me, alright?"

"Don't worry, Your Highness, I will keep an eye on him." Feng Xin slung an arm over Hong-er's shoulder and pulled him close. Hong-er immediately grew stiff and sour-faced, and Xie Lian couldn't help but laugh.

After a moment, his grin faded into a gentle smile. "Good luck to all of you, too. It's going to be a difficult time, but I know we will get through it. Just be careful and hold on, and hopefully, the war will be over soon."

Determined expressions and nods answered him, and he left knowing they would be alright in his absence.

Before the gates, his parents and Qi Rong waited for him. He and the queen both looked pale, while the king looked nothing but tired.

His father put both of his hands on Xie Lian's shoulders. "Be strong and smart, my son. Do what you can, but if it looks like it's hopeless, leave. Your safety comes first."

Xie Lian looked at this man who was so similar to him and yet had disappointed him so often. He looked worn down, like he had aged twice as fast in the last few years. Under his hands, Xie Lian finally exhaled and found it in himself to forgive him a little.

"I will, don't worry."

Next was his mother, and she embraced him like he was still a child and buried her nose in his hair. "Be careful, my Lian-er," she whispered. "None of this is worth your life. Promise me you'll come back to me whole, alright?"

He hugged her back. "I promise."

Finally, there was Qi Rong, who glossed over his pale face with enough bravado for three people. "Pah, these dumb peasants have nothing against you, Cousin Crown Prince. Go and grind their faces into the mud! You could kill them all without breaking a sweat!"

Xie Lian sighed. "Ideally, there will be no killing."

Qi Rong didn't seem to hear him. He kept going on until Xie Lian's horse was brought. Only then did his loud bravado fade a bit to reveal the anxiety underneath. "Listen, uh…" He glanced at the servant and waited until he left to continue. "If you don't manage to show them what's what, it's not your fault either. You're noble, and they're nothing but savages. It would only show that you're too good to touch them anyway."

Xie Lian gave a quiet, despairing laugh at the speech. He appreciated Qi Rong trying, at least, even if the results were all kinds of lacking and inappropriate. "Thank you," he said and mounted the horse. Outside the gate, his entourage had already gathered. It was time to leave.

Before he reached the other riders, he turned around one last time and waved. His family stood together, watching him solemnly, and further back, Mu Qing, Feng Xin, and Hong-er had come out to watch him leave. He waved in their direction too, taking them in one last time.

Then he joined the soldiers, and they rode out towards Yong'An.

Peach blossoms wilt. They were the same trees and the same people as before. But paradise is fleeting. Put up as many markers as you want; you can’t turn back time.

If Xie Lian were asked to describe his journey to and his stay in Yong’An, he would be able to sum it up in two words: utterly miserable.

From the very start, they encountered corruption on a scale he had not been prepared for. The closer to Yong’An they came, the clearer it became that all the money and resources they had sent had been taken by officials along the way. If they had sent a chest of gold, then everyone, from the lowest customs official to the highest lord, took a few coins, and in the end, the chest arrived at Yong’An practically empty.

The worst thing was that Xie Lian could do nothing about it. It was a system rooted in tradition and kept in place by the powerful, and uprooting it would take years that he did not have. In the end, he could do nothing but grit his teeth and let them go without punishment.

Yong’An itself was a horrifying sight. Never had Xie Lian been as aware of his wealth and finery as when he rode past starving, desperate people, homeless families looking up at him with resentment, and corpses left lying in the streets.

However far away Yong’An was from the capital, these were Xie Lian’s people, and he had failed them.

It made him lose sleep at night and left him unable to eat.

When they finally reached the palace of Yong’An, it became clear that any gold that had actually arrived in Yong’An had been used to keep the officials alive. Even then, it was barely enough.

They were received with extreme reluctance and only because Xie Lian’s soldiers did not give them much of a choice. It was obvious that Yong’An had a very low opinion of the king of Xian Le and instead had their heart set on revolution, even if they did not say it outright.

Negotiations were tense and slow-going, riddled with endless screaming arguments and multiple assassination attempts. As the days went by, Xie Lian started to doubt that this mission would see any success. The Yong'An officials hoped the rebels would win the civil war and that they themselves could then take control of Xian Le as a whole. As long as that hope persisted, they would rather let their people starve than negotiate with Xie Lian.

Then, after almost two weeks, Xie Lian was woken in the middle of the night by an uproar in the palace. A group of civilians had raided the palace and killed all of the officials who did not manage to flee fast enough.

Just like that, Yong'An had a new ruler, a haggard, grim man called Lang Zhou, whose first order was to give whatever wealth and food remained in the palace to the people. Lang Zhou let Xie Lian wait for two days before granting him an audience, but when he finally did, he seemed willing to at least listen.

Xie Lian gave him the same speech and arguments he had given for the last twelve days, and when he was done, Lang Zhou's answer was short: Yong'An would accept nothing less than complete independence from Xian Le.

Before Xie Lian had left the capital, his father had taken him to the side and grimly told him to do whatever was necessary to end the war. And so, Xie Lian agreed to Lang Zhou's terms and gave away almost half his kingdom.

The negotiations did not end there. Distribution of resources, what land would be Yong'An's, what resources they would receive from Xian Le, all those things needed time to be decided. But when a shaky agreement had been reached, Lang Zhou sent messengers to the capital to bring the news to the rebel groups stationed around it, and Xie Lian finally felt some hope that the war would at least be paused, if not ended.

Admittedly, he still needed to tell his father and convince him to enforce the agreement. Until then, nothing was certain.

He didn't know whether the rebels would actually listen to Lang Zhou's command or how many casualties there already were. So many were dead, both in Yong'An and in the capital, and the corruption that was omnipresent in Xian Le felt like an insurmountable sickness. In that moment, it did not feel like anything would be alright ever again.

But there was nothing to do but trudge forward, so Xie Lian started the journey back to the capital, tired and worn down and wishing nothing so much as to be home. Never before had he felt so powerless and like such a failure, regardless of whether he would be able to convince the king. He yearned for his mother's arms, to see Hong-er's familiar face again, for the welcome normalcy that Feng Xin and Mu Qing's company provided.

They ran out of food on the way back, and Xie Lian resorted to inedia so his soldiers could eat what little there was left. Still, by the time they reached the capital, his men were weak and starving, barely able to keep themselves on their horses.

A silent battlefield greeted them outside the gates of the capital, littered with corpses and weapons. Helpers were wandering through the debris, pulling corpses into piles and salvaging anything valuable.

It was, perhaps, a good sign that there was no active fighting. It seemed that Lang Zhou's word had at least some sway over the rebels, for Xie Lian did not expect that Xian Le's soldiers had won the war in his absence. And yet, as he rode through the barren fields, feeling as though the fallen soldiers were staring up at him accusingly, he could summon no happiness at the tentative peace.

It felt like the world had ended while he had been away, and there would be no returning to how things had been before.

The capital itself was silent and muted. The people they passed barely looked up as they rode past, too busy repairing the destroyed buildings and trying to survive.

Still, someone must have let the palace know that Xie Lian had returned, because when he passed the palace's gates, a small group of people was waiting for him in the courtyard, and Xie Lian felt his spirits lift slightly at the familiar sight of his parents' tired faces.

"Lian-er!" His mother was the first to greet him when he dismounted from his horse, wrapping her arms around him and pressing him to her chest. Her face was pale and her eyes red-rimmed, and for once, there was no smile on her face, simply silence as she held Xie Lian.

Over her shoulder, he could see Mu Qing and Feng Xin standing next to each other, their faces drawn. They did not look at Xie Lian.

The king was the next one to come forward. He clasped Xie Lian's shoulder, and looking at his face, Xie Lian could not help but think that he seemed to have aged several more years. "You were successful?"

Xie Lian swallowed. How could he look his father in the eyes and tell him that he had given away half their kingdom? It seemed like too much, suddenly, even though there had been no other way at the time.

"Perhaps," he said, his voice hoarse from lack of water. "We reached an agreement, but I… I don't know…"

He trailed off, but his father only patted his shoulder. "We will talk later," he said, and there was a strange expression on his face. "You should settle in and rest for now."

Xie Lian nodded. His head was muddled from exhaustion. He needed to rest before doing anything else. He just wanted to greet everyone first. He had yearned for this moment for so many weeks.

Finally, he turned to Mu Qing and Feng Xin. "Are you two well?"

Mu Qing looked away for a moment, his jaw tense. Confused, Xie Lian looked over at Feng Xin. Seeing him from up close, he suddenly noticed that it looked like he had been crying. He frowned, dread seeping into his bones like a chill.

"Your Highness—" Feng Xin started before breaking off and balling his hands into fists.

"What?" Xie Lian snapped, fear making him impatient. Then, he noticed something else and looked around in confusion. "Where is Hong-er? Why isn't he here?"

Feng Xin's hands started shaking, and the dread turned to a slow, pervasive fear. He looked around at the pale, sorrowful faces of his family and, meeting his eyes, his mother approached him again, her hands raised placatingly. "Lian-er—"

There was no way Hong-er would miss his return. Nothing would be able to stop him from welcoming Xie Lian back, unless… "Is he injured?"

It was the only explanation for his absence. But as he looked around, no one dared to answer him. "Is he injured?" Xie Lian asked again, louder. He was getting angry. It was not that hard a question. All they had to do was say yes.

But the silence persisted, and Xie Lian whirled around to face Mu Qing, the only one who seemed even slightly normal. "What is it! Mu Qing, damn it, just tell me if he's alright!"

Mu Qing passed a hand over his mouth, looking more uncertain than Xie Lian had ever seen him before. His eyes flickered up at him, and then he said, quiet and apologetic, "Your Highness, he's gone."

Surprise stopped Xie Lian short. For a long moment, he tried to figure out what Mu Qing meant. Gone? Gone where? Had he left?

Then, he looked at Feng Xin, who had his face lowered in shame and whose hands were still shaking, and at his mother, who looked at him like he was a wounded animal she was afraid to touch, and slowly, gradually, understanding broke over him like a cold wave.

"No," he whispered, and for a second, he got so nauseous he thought he might be sick right in the middle of the courtyard. "What? No—" Suddenly, without his conscious input, he started laughing. "What? What are you talking about? Gone where?"

There was a far removed part of his mind that already knew the answer, though, and watched him ask the question with a slow-dawning kind of horror.

"Your Highness," Feng Xin finally said, his voice shaky and thin, "I'm so sorry. I have failed you, I could not… You asked me to keep an eye on him and I…"

He did not finish the sentence, but Xie Lian did not need any more to understand. He slowly backed away and shook his head. "No," he rasped. "No, he's not—He's not dead."

"Xie Lian," his mother said, and put a hand on his arm to calm him down.

Xie Lian harshly pulled his arm away and backed away further. "No!"

"Son, calm down," his father said sharply, and suddenly, Xie Lian wanted to scream at him.

Instead, he turned to Feng Xin. "How? How did he—"

Feng Xin looked up, and there was a guilty, scared expression on his face. "On the battlefield. He… He went out to fight in the battle."

For a moment, Xie Lian simply stood there and remembered riding through the battlefield, and tried to imagine Hong-er being one of the fallen soldiers who had looked up at him with empty eyes.

But the image did not want to appear. It was not possible. There was no way that Hong-er had died like that. He was not meant for this kind of fate. It was simply not possible.

He would have survived. Hong-er, resilient, determined spitfire that he was, would have survived the battle. In fact, he could still be out there, at this very moment, lying injured on the battlefield and waiting for someone to find him.

Xie Lian was on his horse faster than anyone could stop him. "I need to find him," he told them. "If he's still out there, I need to find him. He might still be alive."

"What—" Mu Qing stepped forward, the first one to react while everyone else was frozen in surprise. "Your Highness, you don't understand! There's nothing to find! I'm sorry, but it's been days! He's dead!"

"No," Xie Lian said, convinced with his whole heart that he was right. "He's still out there, and I'm going to find him!"

Before they could say anything else, he spurred his horse and rode off, through the gates and towards the battlefield.

When he reached the battlefield, it was exactly how he remembered it, a dark wasteland of ruin.

The few helpers nearby looked up when he dismounted his horse and started to stumble through the wreckage, but Xie Lian paid them no mind. He was looking at the bodies, trying to find a familiar shape, anything recognizable.

There was a sea of destruction stretching out before him, but Xie Lian was not thinking about that. He was going to find him. He had to find him. His boy needed him.

The stench of the battlefield was unbearable, a fecal, rotting sharpness that made him gag as he walked further out. He barely saw where he was stepping, and the broken weapons caught at his clothes and skin, but the pain seemed as distant as anything else.

After a while, he saw a body whose general shape was right, and he turned it over onto its back. A stiff, deformed face looked back at him, pale and blue, the fear of death still plain in the wide eyes and gaping mouth.

Xie Lian flinched back with a low, horrified sound. But despite what he had thought for a second, it was not Hong-er, and so he slowly calmed down, forcefully pushed that image away, and continued searching.

One body after another, dead, all dead, and no sign of Hong-er. Xie Lian had been so convinced at first, but the more corpses he saw with no trace of life left, the more he could feel his hope fading and despair rushing in.

He shook his head. He could not give up. If there was the slightest possibility that Hong-er needed him, Xie Lian would not give up. His sight turned blurry, and he did not know if it was from sweat or dirt or something else, but he wiped off his face and continued.

There were sounds coming from nearby. Xie Lian ignored them. He did not have the time for distractions.

But then, hands grabbed his arms, forcing him to a halt. He tried to rip himself free, and it took a few seconds before he realized the sounds were Mu Qing and Feng Xin's voices. They had come after him.

"Your Highness," Feng Xin, his voice rough with distress, "you need to stop. Please, you just got back, you need rest!"

Xie Lian barely stopped himself from hitting him. Who cared about rest when Hong-er might still be out there waiting for him? "Get out of my damn way," he spat at Feng Xin, pushed away his hands, and continued looking.

"Goddamnit, this is—" Mu Qing stomped after him, hesitance and impatience warring on his face. "Listen, I know this is hard. I'm really sorry, alright? We're all sad! And you have a right to grieve him, but this isn't helping anyone!"

Xie Lian pretended he could not hear him and turned around another body. Not Hong-er. He continued.

"Will you stop! Feng Xin, stop standing around and help me!"

Then, there were two sets of hands around his arms, keeping him back. As soon as he could not channel the rage and fear into something productive anymore, they exploded out of him, and he started thrashing in their hold, trying to break free.

"Let me go," he shouted, "I need to look for him!" But his struggles were strangely ineffective. No matter how much he fought, he could not free himself. How could that be? Was he not the strongest of them? Why was he pushing against Mu Qing's hands like he was a weak child?

"Let me go," he choked, his voice breaking halfway through. "He needs me. Please, let me go."

"Oh, fucking hell." Feng Xin's voice was just as choked and wet as Xie Lian's, and he surged forward and wrapped Xie Lian into a tight, clumsy hug.

His arms were hard around his ribs, and Xie Lian's nose was squashed against the hard leather armor on his chest, but the surprise was enough to make Xie Lian stop struggling for a moment. "I'm really sorry, Your Highness," Feng Xin said again. "Believe me, I looked already. We all did. Hong-er is really…"

"After the battle ended, we searched the whole area for survivors." Mu Qing awkwardly added from the side. "Everyone who survived was brought to the medical tents, and Hong-er wasn't among them. I checked, alright? I made sure we wouldn't overlook him. But he wasn't there. Of course, we're going to look for his body. But we had to prioritize the survivors."

The words sank in slowly, and Xie Lian blindly stared at the clasps of Feng Xin's armor. The truth seemed too enormous for him to grasp at this moment. It lurked over him like a gigantic, world-ending catastrophe, the possibility of a future without Hong-er.

But it looked like he didn't need to accept it was real for his body to react. Before he knew it, his eyes grew hot, and tears started dripping down his face. A keen ripped its way out of him, and he brought his hands up to desperately hold onto Feng Xin.

"No, no—" It was like the dam had broken and, all of a sudden, Xie Lian started screaming. It felt like his body was acting outside of his control, as though he could only watch while he turned into a sobbing, wailing thing in Feng Xin's arms. "Please," he keened nonsensically, "Please don't—"

"I'm sorry, Your Highness," Feng Xin just murmured, again and again, "I'm so sorry."

Eventually, he could not hold himself up anymore and sank to his knees, Feng Xin going down with him. Mu Qing sighed and sat down on Xie Lian's other side, and together, they sat in the middle of the battlefield, surrounded by corpses and destruction, and waited for Xie Lian to gather his bearings.

Eventually, he quieted down and wiped his face with his dirty sleeve. His whole body hurt, and his fingers were icy cold, like he was half-dead himself. He wondered if Hong-er was cold right now, and the thought made him cry a few more tears.

Mu Qing leaned over and pushed his shoulder against Xie Lian's. "We should go back. We can continue looking for him after you rest a bit and eat something."

Xie Lian stayed silent. He didn't think he could talk right then.

"We're going to give him a proper funeral," Mu Qing continued, even more awkwardly. "And—And I'm sorry, too." He looked up at the sky and grimaced as though his words pained him. "We didn't realize he would sneak out like that. If I had known he would do that, I would have… Yes, well."

Suddenly, something occurred to Xie Lian, and a wild hope bloomed in his chest. "If he snuck out, and you haven't found him," he croaked, "how do you know he fought in the battle? He might have just run away!"

Feng Xin shifted next to him. "Ah, there was a le—"

"Don't tell him that!" Mu Qing interrupted him sharply.

"What?" Xie Lian frowned at Feng Xin. "What is it?"

"Gods, can't you keep your big mouth shut!"

"He has a right to know!" Feng Xin protested hotly.

"I have a right to know what?" Xie Lian asked loudly, and Mu Qing exhaled a gust of air.

Feng Xin reached into his robes and took out a folded, sorry-looking piece of parchment out of his robes. His hand trembled as he held it out to Xie Lian.

For a long moment, Xie Lian stared at it blindly. Then, he took it and unfolded the wrinkled parchment to see Hong-er's wild scrawl looking back at him. Slowly, he started to read.

When he finished, clear drops fell onto the letter, darkening the parchment and smudging the ink. He folded it shut again and silently stared ahead, over the battlefield. Beside him, Feng Xin and Mu Qing were quiet for once, but scooted closer until their sides were pressing against Xie Lian's arms.

Together, they stayed there until evening fell.

“Your Highness,

I’m sorry. When you find this letter, I’ll be gone.

I know you will be angry and sad, and I wish I could spare you this. But I have been selfish, staying in the palace for so long, and it’s time that I stop.

The guoshi was right. I’m cursed, and I taint everything around me. Since you have taken me in, I have brought you nothing but misfortune. I knew this, and yet, I stayed until the last moment, when it had already escalated too far. I can only hope that by leaving, I can yet keep you and Xian Le from ruin. I know you don’t believe in these things, but if there is the smallest chance that it’s true, I must do what I can.

Mostly, I just wanted to say thank you. The last few years were the happiest of my life, and I can never repay you for what you have given me. I can only hope that, by joining the battle and fighting for you, I can give back at least a little.

I hope that you return from Yong’An whole and unharmed and that, eventually, you will be happy again. There is nothing I wish for more.

Eternally yours,
Hong-er”

In the end, the peach blossom valley wasn’t a place at all. It was only a moment, there and gone too fast.