“Honestly, this is practically a bird’s nest. Do you even own a comb?”

The question is of course purely rhetorical, because Yi Yeguang knows there are at least five or six of them lying around besides the one in his hand. It hardly matters though, because the end result is still the same. That said however⸺ “I know for a fact that you’re quite capable, Mingyue. Why am I the one untangling this mess?”

Just the other day, it hadn’t been this bad. But at least it’s only Mingyue’s hair this time around, and not the two of them. But at least Mingyue had returned, and on time. Still⸺

With a sigh, Yi Yeguang once again gets back to work, mindful of not pulling too hard on anything. Mingyue doesn’t seem to mind all that much though, taking the time to meditate while Yi Yeguang is stuck doing all the work. But it isn’t as though that’s anything new under the sun – not as far as Mingyue’s hair is concerned, at least.

In a way, it seems almost deliberate – a way to make him stay longer and to make him touch. Yi Yeguang makes sure not to read too much into this behaviour though.

He won’t, because this is merely some bird demon thing, and Yi Yeguang just so happens to be a convenient outlet for it. He feels honoured though, about the fact that Mingyue would still show him his back, and Yi Yeguang rewards that trust by not abusing it.

Besides, this kind of intimacy is nice – if only on occasion. Today however, Yi Yeguang doesn’t really have the time to indulge.

“The meeting is in less than an hour, you know,” he mutters, finally having untangled Mingyue’s hair enough to make a neat topknot out of the upper portion of it, fastening it with the customary jade crown. “The meeting is in less than an hour, and we’re both expected to attend. And I’ve yet to get myself ready.”

“Unnecessary,” the recently appointed Peak Lord Bai says, glancing at Yi Yeguang through the mirror on the table in front of him.

It’s unclear as to whether Mingyue is referring to the meeting or to Yi Yeguang’s need to get ready – or both. Yi Yeguang pretends not to notice the other’s gaze however, making sure the hairpiece isn’t noticeably crooked before stepping back.

“Unnecessary or not, it’s the way things are,” he says. “And until I can sway more Peak Lords to my side, it’s the way things will remain.”

At this, Mingyue turns his head around, and Yi Yeguang stills, comb still in hand as he finds himself fully under the scrutiny of that glacial gaze.

“How many more do you need?”

 

---

 

With an influx of cold air, Yi Yeguang shivered awake. It took a good moment for him to remember where he was – and when.

Darkness surrounded him from all sides. There wasn’t even a spec of light accompanying him where he sat with his back against the wall. He wasn’t completely on his own though, because even though he couldn’t see it, Yi Yeguang could sense the presence of the blade – like a heartbeat echoing his own.

Bringing a sleeve up to his mouth, Yi Yeguang rubbed at it, dislodging the dried blood there. And going by the stiffness on parts of his robes, there was undeniably more blood to be found. But that could be dealt with later on, because Yi Yeguang definitely had at least one additional set of clothing stored inside of his spatial ring.

Speaking of which⸺

With a trembling hand, Yi Yeguang reached into his sleeve. He paused midway through though, quietly annoyed at himself for still seeking it; that small comfort.

But Yi Yeguang was weak – physically as well as mentally – and thus unable to resist the urge to pull out that small box and reveal the feather within. He didn’t need light to do so either, entirely too familiar with the motions. Yi Yeguang didn’t touch the feather though. Instead, he remained content to simply look at it as it glowed very faintly in the dark.

It’s not too late yet, Yi Yeguang thought, gingerly closing the small box. He then put it away instead of returning it to the spatial ring and thought: I can still make it.

He could, even though there was certainly no guarantee of success.

He should, because⸺

 

---

 

Three steps back, keeping a respectful distance.

Three steps back, never closer unless called, never speaking unless addressed.

Three steps back, keeping a respectful distance, keeping eyes and ears open, watching and listening, but heeding only the word of the one before him.

Three steps back, look but do not stare.

Do not stare longingly at another, undeserving of such devotion.

Get a grip, get a grip, get a grip.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

No patience for crying children, no place for crying adults.

Three steps back, following. Not running, but often hurried, unwilling to be left behind once more.

Because that is his life; always someone walking briskly away from him.

That is his life; tolerated when useful, but never liked, never worthy, never truly⸺ loved?

Because there’s a difference – a difference in-between love and admiration. This, Yi Yeguang knows, and he knows it well.

Cheng Kong⸺ No, Peak Lord Cheng deserves better than the likes of Yi Yeguang. He deserves someone more suited towards his morals and temperament; someone less inclined towards underhanded methods.

And as for Yi Yeguang, well⸺

There’s a difference in-between love and longing. This, Yi Yeguang knows, and he knows it well.

He’d wanted something he couldn’t have. He’d wanted the moon, and he’d kept reaching for it, even after realising it would never be within reach. It would never be within reach, and yet⸺

There’s something above his heart – a strangely soothing warmth – and although Yi Yeguang feels very weak, he manages to clutch it, his body shaking with tremors.

The feather is glowing now, and its light makes Yi Yeguang’s eyes sting, leaving him practically blinded before the light begins to fade once more, echoed by the jade embedded in the walls, which lights up briefly before once again going dark – or is it merely Yi Yeguang’s vision going dark?

It doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t make it back.

It doesn’t matter if he can’t return what he’d shamelessly stolen for himself.

It doesn’t matter, because⸺

A bout of vertigo hits, and when it abates, he feels the cold rock against his face.

It’s cold, and he shivers, but he’s too tired to move.

He doesn’t feel pain though – no pain, just exhaustion. Also⸺

“Yi Yeguang!”

⸺he is starting to hear voices; voices and footsteps echoing from a distance – a dying hallucination, no doubt. Honestly, shouldn’t he know better by now? Honestly⸺

It could’ve been worse. It could’ve been much, much worse.

Yi Yeguang might not have been a very good person, but at least he’d done his best not to replicate the mistakes of his predecessor. He’d done his best, and he’d thought that it might enough, but⸺

He’d fucked up, but he’d tried to do better, and while he’d never been good enough in the eyes of some, it’s fine, honestly. It’s fine, because he knows it’s impossible to please everyone – it’s impossible, and utterly futile to even attempt it. Still⸺

I don’t really need it, Yi Yeguang thinks, directing his thoughts towards the sword. I don’t need your forgiveness or your approval, but I owe you nothing. Reject me. Reject me all you want, because I reject you right back. I don’t need your forgiveness or your approval, and I’d rather die than beg for either of them!

And this is true, and it matters – and perhaps it means little in the greater picture of things, but it matters to him. And sure, Yi Yeguang would much rather not die. In fact, he’d much rather live, if only out of sheer spite, but⸺

 

---

 

This is fine, Yi Yeguang thought, as the world around him continued to spin. It’s time to get going.

Mingyue would probably be upset though. Mingyue would probably be⸺

The world spun and then lurched, and Yi Yeguang suddenly found himself staring up into a pair of absolutely livid glacial eyes.

“You,” Mingyue spat. “Which part of ‘Don’t screw around with cursed swords’ eludes you?”

Huh. “...You never said that.”

“You knew what I fucking meant!” Mingyue hissed. “Now stay awake or I’ll slap you.”

Ah. Well, Yi Yeguang’s vision was still blurry, but his surroundings were no longer quite so dark.

The jade embedded in the walls was glowing; a result of Mingyue’s heightened state of emotion no doubt. Yi Yeguang wasn’t overly concerned though.

Instead, he just released his breath and allowed his eyes to slide back shut, because despite that sudden burst of clarity, unconsciousness still beckoned him, and Mingyue – real or imaginary – seemed too preoccupied elsewhere to slap him. Also⸺

“This is beyond what I can handle.”

Hearing Mingyue’s dire proclamation, Yi Yeguang smiled. Because this was fine, honestly.

Again, there was movement – movement and voices – and even though Yi Yeguang couldn’t quite open his eyes, he remained vaguely aware of things – like the body behind him, propping him up.

Cheng Kong, Yi Yeguang blearily thought.

“Finally,” Mingyue spat, voice further away and then closer once more. “Hold him.”

Hold who? Yi Yeguang briefly thought, before the answer became apparent as the arms around him tightened.

Then Mingyue gripped him by the chin and pressed something against his lips.

Blood, Yi Yeguang thought, and then he was gone.