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Chapter Text

Mu Qing and Feng Xin had known each other for what, 800 years? They were the closest, in a way immortal enemies know each other’s weak points, where to strike to kill. They knew each other inside and out, whether they liked it or not. There were no secrets between them. And yet-

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” Mu Qing stormed into Feng Xin’s palace. “Did you really just lock him up here? What about his duties?”

Feng Xin’s deputies hung their heads and didn’t say a word. After being verbally lashed for a minute too long, one spoke up.

“G-general Xuan Zhen, we were under orders not to let anyone know…” She looked towards the ground, wringing her hands.

“By whom?” Mu Qing sneered.

“General Nan Yang.”

“Well, General Nan Yang isn’t in the right state of mind now is he?” Mu Qing scowled and uncrossed his arms. He pushed through the small crowd that had gathered to see the commotion. Swiftly walking towards Feng Xin’s room, no attempt was made to stop him. Even if the two gods didn’t get along, and nor did their deputies, Feng Xin’s knew better than to approach their rival god himself. Certainly not when he was in a mood like this.

Mu Qing swung Feng Xin’s door open. It was a sad sight. Sheets were ripped to shreds, nonsensical writing covered the walls. Doors were torn from the hinges. Shattered glass was spread along the floor, forcing Mu Qing to watch where he placed his feet. He rapped his knuckles against the doorframe.

“Feng Xin.” The other god, Martial God of the Southeast, did not respond. He sat on the floor, head cocked to the side, grasping at empty air. His eyes were cloudy, looking but not seeing. Mu Qing approached him.

“Feng Xin,” he demanded. No response. Feng Xin didn’t even spare him a glance. No, Feng Xin didn’t even know he was there. Mu Qing moved to stand in front of him, a foot and a half away. He lightly kicked Feng Xin’s leg with the toe of his boot, frowning.

Feng Xin’s eyes, once a foggy, hazy day, cleared to an overcast sky.

He shrieked.

Mu Qing, caught off guard, took a step backwards. Feng Xin tried to get away, slipped, and slammed his head against the floor. Mu Qing waited a moment before picking up the weak, still god, carrying him to his bed. He laid him onto already messy sheets. Working around the half-asleep man, he slowly replaced the torn bedding. Brushing the glass into one corner, he sat on the other side of the room. Feng Xin’s eyes were back to cloudy. Clothing, while intact, was ripped and stained with what looked like blood. Bruises and cuts littered his body. A bath would do him good. But before he acted, a thought struck him.

Ling Wen? Mu Qing spoke into a private communication array. Who is Feng Xin closest with?

Ling Wen, who had clearly heard him given the open line, paused. I’m not sure I know what you mean.

Mu Qing huffed. I’m asking who Feng Xin knows best. Who- who would care for him, if he was hurt?

General Xuan Zhen, have you encountered any sort of malicious creatures lately? I thought you were off duty this week?

I- no.

Well, I would assume that person would be you, General. With that, Ling Wen cut the communication array off.

Mu Qing groaned. He could ask Xie Lian to help Feng Xin, but he was probably busy with that “San Lang” of his. All of Feng Xin’s attendants were there to manage prayers, not manage the gods' basic needs. Mu Qing was 70% sure Feng Xin and Pei Ming were sort of friends. But there was no way Mu Qing would ask him for help.

He stripped the bloody god. Each torn piece of clothing removed only revealed more and more injuries. Had he inflicted them upon himself? Had some creature done it to him? Broken sentences fell out of Feng Xin’s mouth, shattering on the floor before Mu Qing could catch them.

Feng Xin let out a low hiss as Mu Qing pressed a nasty bruise too hard. Mu Qing made a note to bring medical salves and bandages next time. He picked the limp god up carefully, making sure not to touch any wounds.

Luckily, Mu Qing was familiar with the layout of Feng Xin’s palace. He carried him to Feng Xin’s private bath. The walk was short.

Feng Xin grew alert as the steam touched his face. He clawed at Mu Qing’s robes, making noises of protest. Mu Qing ignored him, and set Feng Xin on the ground. All the windows were made of the finest glass, pool lined with smooth tiles. Heating talismans were embedded into the stones, specially crafted not to lose their power nor crumble when wet. It was a subtle display of the power Feng Xin held.

Water was already starting to cling to Mu Qing’s skin. He lowered Feng Xin into the water. Feng Xin squirmed, but once the water reached his torso, he relaxed. Mu Qing watched as flecks of dried blood were already starting to fall away. Dirt and grime fell off his body, disappearing into enchanted water. Leaving Feng Xin but still keeping his eyes on him, Mu Qing picked through the row of soaps. He selected the few he knew Feng Xin liked and walked back over.

Feng Xin had gone from dead still and silent to babbling and grabbing the air. Mu Qing wasn’t sure which version he preferred. Maybe silent, it made him easier to deal with. Mu Qing crossed his arms, thoughts speeding. Feng Xin jerked backwards, and Mu Qing hissed when water splashed onto his robes. It was an expected cost, but Mu Qing still wasn’t happy about it. He didn’t want to harm Feng Xin, but he doubted he’d cooperate. But simply putting him into water and re-dressing him wouldn’t do much good, it would be better to fully clean him. His hair was matted and even though most of the dirt was gone, there was still some within his cuts. Infections would be no fun, not in this state. Finally settling on a plan, Mu Qing got to work.

Chapter Text

Feng Xin squealed. The floor was safe, with the grass and soft dirt. But that Man was trying to get him into the lava. That wasn’t safe. The lava bubbled and churned, a flowing mess of fire-red liquid. It hissed as it lapped at the grass. Smoke rose from the charred field.

He squirmed as the odd man – he looked familiar. Maybe he’s safe? No, he’s not. No one is. Feng Xin wriggled as he was picked up, but couldn’t leave. His limbs were jelly, melting onto the floor in puddles. As he was lowered into the orange liquid, he desperately tried to claw his way out.

Oh. It's cold. He relaxed. From the lava emerged iridescent bubbles, shimmering and taunting. Feng Xin silently giggled as he reached up for them. His hand passed through them, and they exploded in a shimmering display of light.

Startled, Feng Xin lept back. He heard the man hiss - what was he doing here? - but paid him no mind. He was mesmerized by the flakes of color floating down. They extended into long tendrils of light, curling around his fingers and winding around his arms. It tickled. He laughed as they gently encircled his limbs.

He stayed like that for a while. The light seemed to want to play, so he let it. It ran up and down his body, leaving a trail of foam in its wake. Another wave of light passed down his body - it was cold? - washing the trail away.

Feng Xin sank deeper into the light, deeper into himself, deeper into safety. Reality melted away, leaving him floating within. It was comfortable like this. A deep dream is all reality is, why not go deeper?

Here, inside himself, he could relax. Coils wound tight loosened. Going from constricting and binding to free and flowing. No longer was Feng Xin chained by snaking ropes.

The ropes slithered away from his limp body, twisting and forming into one being. It reared its head, fang’s sharp within its mouth. Slick black scales reflected the darkness.

Feng Xin stood within the void. Opening his mouth, no sound could be heard. And yet, he spoke.

“What is your name?”

A hissing laugh came from the creature, Why, don’t you already know? I do not have one.

“A demon such as you must.”

Very well. You named me Lian Qing Mo. The demon said nothing more. It lunged, sinking its teeth into Feng Xin’s flesh. He lurched away, but the beast had already torn through. Its scales fell away, white and red butterflies swarming around him. Feng Xin stood statue still, even when their wings began to slice at his skin. No blood fell to the floor, no cuts appeared. But it still stung like hell.

He was left alone in the void once again. Alone, alone. Even foul, demonic creatures didn’t want to be around him. He lowered himself, as best as he could without a ground to stand on. Stilling his heart, he went back to the surface.

Chapter Text

Mu Qing stared at the god. He’d been so still, letting Mu Qing dress and bathe him, when all of a sudden-

“Who are you?” Feng Xin asked. But Feng Xin’s eyes weren’t on Mu Qing, no, they were on something far away.

“Call me Mu Qing,” He responded. Feng Xin did not do the same. Instead, he grabbed Mu Qing’s arm and pulled him from the baths. He played along, not wanting Feng Xin to go away again. Mu Qing was dragged back to the bedroom. Feng Xin pushed Mu Qing to sit on the floor, and grabbed a brush from his desk. He started to draw symbols on the floor, caging Mu Qing inside.

At first, Mu Qing thought he was trying to draw a transportation array. But the shapes on the floor resembled no such thing. They were haphazard words, scribbled in madness. Feng Xin seemed to be writing the same two characters over and over, but Mu Qing couldn’t read it. Hua Cheng’s writing looked beautiful compared to this.

“Feng Xin? What are you writing?” Mu Qing said, mostly to himself.

Feng Xin didn’t respond. Nonsense slipped from his mouth, sliding past Mu Qing. Mu Qing sighed once again. He seemed to have slipped back into that crazed state, and who knows how long it would take for him to come out of it. He had nothing better to do, it was rather peaceful right now, so he’d just sit and wait.

Mu Qing had started meditating an hour ago. When he opened his eyes again, Feng Xin was still scribbling away. Feng Xin had moved away from the floor, now writing on the walls. The floor looked like a murder scene, haphazard writing unevenly spaced, blurring together and glaring at Mu Qing. The only open space was around him. He studied the characters. Trying to pick out what Feng Xin wrote was a headache. It was definitely just two characters, over and over, but he couldn’t figure out which.

Mu Qing moved to stand, and inched slowly towards the exit. Careful not to step on any of the writing, he opened the door. Feng Xin still didn’t notice him, and he slipped out. Once in the hallway, he stopped the first attendant he could see.

“Has Ling Wen figured out what caused,” He gestured to the door concealing General Nan Yang, “this?”

“No sir, but we suspect he had been dealing with this for a while.”

Mu Qing tilted his head in confusion, eyebrows knitted together.

“There have been small rumors on and off throughout the centuries about odd comments he made, but it could just be gossip. No official reports were given”

Mu Qing thought back to all their fights, but he couldn’t remember a time Feng Xin acted like this. It was always punches thrown, kicks hurled, bites landed. Never once did Feng Xin complain of delusions, or make a comment that didn’t land right.

Did Xie Lian know? Had Feng Xin just…hidden this from him? Did he not trust Mu Qing?

“- Wen is still looking into any ghosts that could have caused this.”

“What?”

The attendant sighed, “We don’t know if it’s a curse or not, but Ling Wen is still looking for a ghost that could have caused Feng Xin’s psychosis.”

“Hm. Who is managing Feng Xin’s palace in the meantime?”

The attendant averted his gaze, “Well, since you two share a domain, it would only be logical for you to do so, but…” He trailed off.

“But what?!” Mu Qing felt the words slam against his pride. Was he not good enough?

“No one wanted to ask you”

Mu Qing was shocked. No one wanted to ask him? Why? Did his own deputies know?

“Who said I should lead the palace of Nan Yang?”

“General Nan Yang.” The attendant stepped back.

A headache was starting to pierce Mu Qing’s skull. Feng Xin would be better off leaving this to Pei Ming, or even Lang Qianqiu. Inwardly, he was crying, filled with questions and no answers. Outwardly he said:

“Thank you. What is your name?”

The attendant blinked in surprise. General Xuan Zhen, asking for his name?

“My name is Li Junlan.”

“Very well.”

Mu Qing turned on his heel. He needed to sort his thoughts out. He swiftly left the palace, walking to his own and ignoring everyone else. Not that anyone bothered to talk to him.

Feng Xin didn’t trust him enough to tell him he was dealing with whatever this was, for years, yet he trusted Mu Qing with his domain. He didn’t know who Mu Qing was anymore. Had it gotten this bad before? How had Feng Xin dealt with it in the past? Did Feng Xin even know?

What if Feng Xin didn’t get better this time? What if he remained in this state? What if he forgot everything?

Mu Qing slammed his head against his palm. God dammit! All Feng Xin brought Mu Qing was trouble, that brute. Now he was taking care of Feng Xin, since no one seemed to do it properly (read: Mu Qing won’t let them). Mu Qing was aware that their followers, mortal or god, would loathe each other. He didn’t blame them, Feng Xin’s junior deputies were a pain. Apart from that Li Junlan. He seemed nice enough.

Feng Xin didn’t show any improvement. If anything, he’d gotten worse. Intervals between manic states were growing shorter, and they seemed to be getting worse.

General Ju Yang, please let me have a- Fuck! Mu Qing truly felt bad for Feng Xin now. Ling Wen had a prayer funnel set up, so Mu Qing could hear Feng Xin’s devotees for the time being. But the only difference was the prayers for sons and to have a better sex life! They had similar domains, any troublesome beasts were already overlapping.

Being a god didn’t require much work. Mu Qing’s only responsibility was to delegate tasks to junior deputies, and if needed, deal with an occasional ghost. After Jun Wu’s imprisonment, higher level ghosts had stopped popping up. Additionally, since the Heaven’s formed an alliance with Hua Cheng, he kept his own realm in check. But some ghosts weren’t citizens of the Ghost City, and still wreaked havoc. Most of them being Qi Rong’s underlings.

Ling Wen? He asked once the sun rose. It wouldn’t be appropriate to ask her during the night, and he didn’t want to give away his lack of sleep.

Mu Qing heard her exasperated sigh on the other end. What?

Have you found anything else?

No. Shi Wudu has gone missing, Feng Xin has gone insane, but one of them is still contained. Take a guess as to what I’m working on?

Mu Qing’s eye twitched. Great.

You could try searching yourself? Did you consider that? Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, but it wasn’t malicious. Mu Qing had spent enough time analyzing others to tell the difference. No, it was the sarcasm from exhaustion and not wanting to deal with others’ demands any longer.

I- Yes. I could.

Well, Feng Xin is calm right now. I’ll send someone over, and you can take a look at the reports so far. It contains everything related to this case.

Alright.

“General Xuan Zhen? I’m here with the reports you asked for!”

Mu Qing stood up, walking to the door and opening it with a Bang!

“Thank you,” He faltered as he saw the familiar face. “Li Junlan.”

Mu Qing took the - rather large - stack of papers out of his hands.

“No problem General. I hope you find a cure for General Nan Feng soon.”

Li Junlan bowed and turned to exit. Mu Qing slammed the papers on his desk. It was thicker than his arm, and probably weighed ten times as much. He sat down and began sorting through the files.

The first portion was possible causes of psychosis. The second was Feng Xin’s behavior and how to deal with it. The third was possible triggers and anything recent.

Mu Qing was truly stumped. The causes ranged from flowers to curses. The flowers seemed to be ruled out, they were typically a one time thing. If this had happened before, none of them fit. But neither did any of the curses. Most of them caused lack of contact with reality, leading to murder of close ones. But Feng Xin was harmless. The only harm he caused was to himself.

Unless that was the goal.

What if someone was trying to hurt Feng Xin? If the curser’s goal was for Feng Xin to be harmed, but not do it themself nor leave any evidence…

This wasn’t something Ling Wen would know.

Xie Lian!

Eh? Mu Qing?

Does Feng Xin have anyone who would wish to cause him harm? Perhaps an ex or someone he got into a fight with?

He’s generally liked, isn’t he? There isn’t anyone I can think of, maybe Jian Lan?

Okay, thank you.

Mu Qing put his head in his hands. Frustration was starting to boil, and was threatening to spill over. He stood up, deciding to take a walk to clear his head. Maybe some time not thinking about Feng Xin would be good.

Chapter Text

“Mu Qing, have you seen Shi Wudu?” Shi Qingxuan trudged up to the Martial God. Her eyes were red-rimmed.

“No, I’m sorry,” Mu Qing tried his best to sound empathetic, but cold enough to shut the conversation down. Could he have a moment alone? Please?

“Is Feng Xin better yet? Ming-xiong said Shi Wudu was last spotted in the southeast,” Shi Qingxuan tipped her head to the left. God dammit, why couldn’t she catch the hint! Mu Qing knew damn well she had unrivaled social skills, why was now the time to chatter?

“I- Yes, but he’s still unwell. He’s not really in a state to converse.” Mu Qing started to walk away.

Shi Qingxuan followed his brisk pace. “Ah, that. That reminds me, Ming-xiong-”

Ming-xiong this, Ming-xiong that, did she ever shut up about him!?

"-once got hit by a delusion curse. You might want to ask him about it!”

The wind master waved and turned around, leaving Mu Qing to ponder her words. He’d never spoken to the earth master before, but perhaps they had the same cause. Mu Qing hadn’t heard about this, but if such a formidable god had been hit by such a curse, wouldn’t have the whole of heaven? Perhaps he wanted to keep it under wraps, but no matter. If it was the same, it might speed up getting Feng Xin back to normal.

Perfect. He’ll speak with Ming Yi that afternoon. But right now, all Mu Qing wanted was to be alone.

He walked along the roads of heaven, until he reached the Heavenly Garden.

It was a quiet place. Rarely visited or touched, tended to by the occasional god. But it didn’t need any care, each flower was pristine, each leaf was perfectly placed. A large cherry blossom tree bloomed in the center. Mu Qing sat down underneath it, letting the flowers dance across his vision. He closed his eyes and began to meditate.

Mu Qing stayed in the garden until the sun was high in the sky. Opening his eyes once again, he picked himself up to walk towards the palace of Ming Yi.

Waiting by the gates of the palace, he was greeted by a nervous little junior official. She opened the door just enough for him to converse, before calling Ming Yi over.

“You’re wondering what curse I was under?” Ming Yi glared at Mu Qing.

“Yes. I want to know if it has anything to do with Feng Xin,” He glared right back at the earth master.

Ming Yi huffed and uncrossed his arms. He stepped aside, allowing Mu Qing into his palace.

The entry room was, well, the only word for it was cold . Ming Yi had painted the walls a deep blue, but instead of being comforting and calm, it seemed eerie. Like the walls would drown you. Despite whoever he saw earlier, no attendants ran through the halls. Furniture was sparse.

He was guided into a sitting room. There was a simple green rug on the floor, and a single couch. Shi Qingxuan sat there, looking slightly disheveled but fine.

“Come, sit!” Shi Qingxuan patted the cushion next to her. Mu Qing glanced towards Ming Yi, who gave a slight nod. He sat down, and Ming Yi remained standing.

“Could you please tell me about this curse?” Mu Qing inquired.

“Why couldn’t you have just read the report?” Ming Yi muttered. Not under his breath, it was meant to be heard. But it wasn’t directed towards anyone.

“There weren't any reports about any curse you were under. Unless Ling Wen misplaced it?” Mu Qing sniped back.

“Ming-xiong! Just tell him,” Shi Qingxuan pouted.

“Fine.”

She really has him wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she?

“It was probably two hundred years ago. Essentially, I was searching around since I’d been getting prayers complaining of people going mad. I stumbled upon a small fox spirit’s domain. I was trapped inside, and what I saw was nonsensical. At some point, I managed to get out. Thinking about it now, the fox let me go quite easily.

“When I got back to the heavenly capital, everything was off. At first, people would show up and randomly disappear, or colors would shift. I assumed nothing was wrong, but it got worse. And it got worse fast.

Suddenly I’d be in a forest while working. Or people would transform into bugs. No warning, and it was like I was back in the fox’s domain all over again. It went from lasting minutes to days. It consumed my life. But I couldn’t ask for help - whenever I tried, invisible bubbles would foam up and choke me. No matter what form. Spiritual communication array, spoken, written.

“Luckily, Qingxuan noticed. She dug through my recent whereabouts, found the fox spirit, and killed it. All the illusions went away after that.”

Shi Qingxuan smiled at Ming Yi. Ming Yi gave a small nod in response.

“So, I should just figure out what cursed Feng Qing and kill it?” Mu Qing asked.

“Yes, that will do,” Ming Yi replied flatly.

“Very well. Where did you find the fox spirit last time?”

Ming Yi averted his eyes, “I don’t know. There was definitely a transportation array set up, but I found the start around the ruins of a Xian Le temple.”

The room stilled. Silence buzzed in Mu Qing’s ears. Neither Shi Qingxuan or Ming Yi looked at him.

“Ah, well. That’s good to know.” Mu Qing pushed down the wave of anxiety flooding his chest. “Does Ling Wen have any more information regarding this?”

“No. The fox couldn’t talk, no matter how hard we tried to get answers out. I went back to investigate the area but there was nothing nearby. I suspect it had used passive possession to curse me, then left the host. But I’d recognize it anywhere – it had a large white stripe running down its back. Nothing like I’d ever seen before.” Ming Yi shrugged.

“Then I shall investigate on my own. Good luck on finding your brother.” Mu Qing stood up to leave. Ming Yi didn’t object, leading him to the door.

Chapter Text

Mu Qing lay in bed, waves of sleep pushing and pulling. He drifted out to the sea of sleep slowly, watching reality melt away as the horizon drew closer.

“Hello?”

Mu Qing was startled awake.

Reality was still gone.

“Yes! You’re here!”

Mu Qing was set in the middle of a clearing. Plants surrounded the clearing, forming a ring. The shrubs had small white flowers on them, with thin leaves. Mu Qing got up to touch them. They felt like paper, but smooth. A couple frogs hopped across the clearing on the other end. Two were brown, and one was green.

“I wouldn’t touch those.”

He whipped around to find a fox.

With a white stripe down it’s back.

“You!”

“Me!” The fox cocked its head.

“You’re the one who cursed Feng Xin!”

The fox tilted its head disapprovingly. “My my, jumping to conclusions! If I had, would I be talking to you? No, I’d be running through the streets, bragging about cursing a god!”

“Didn’t you curse Ming Yi?”

“Nah,” The fox rolled its eyes - can foxes do that? “He just got a little too close to some of my plants. He really was a bother. Refused help from me, thinking I was trying to kill him. Glad he’s ok now.”

“Did the same thing happen with Feng Xin?”

“I already told you, no!”

“But-”

“Nope. He did stumble in here, not sure how. He kept begging me to help him, and believe me, I tried. I administered all the usual antidotes. Nothing worked.”

Mu Qing didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. This was the only lead that seemed worthy of investigation. And now? It might just be a random plant or something he ate?

“Can you help me at all?” The fox moved from sitting to lying down.

“Normally I don’t like to talk to humans. But you seem very determined to help your husband-”

“He isn’t my husband.”

The fox looked at Mu Qing quizzingly.

“But he-”

“No.”

“Alright alright! You seem very determined to help him, but not in a weepy way. I admire that! Plus, it's been getting boring waiting around.”

Mu Qing crossed his arms and glared. “Come on, hurry up. I haven’t got all day.”

“How about this? I help you find a cure for Feng Xin,” He spat the name out mockingly, “And you let me hang around!”

Mu Qing narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

“I go with you to the heavens, I help out with missions, stuff like that!”

“How does this benefit you?”

“Because currently, I’m stuck sitting here waiting for people to stumble into my realm! It's so boring! Being with you would mean excitement!”

“So you want to be my…pet?”

The fox pondered his words.

“I’d prefer assistant, but sure. Anything to get out of here.”

“...”

“Fine,” Mu Qing begrudgingly agreed.

Mu Qing awoke with a start. The fox was staring into his eyes, only an inch or two away from his face. He jolted backwards.

“Heya!”

He only stared at the spirit.

“You entered my realm, I exited through you. Don’t worry about it.”

Mu Qing shook his head and didn’t say a word. He was shocked, yes, but at this point? He was too overwhelmed to care.

He walked over to the full length mirror. His hair was a mess, his clothes were wrinkled, and his eyes showed exhaustion.

“You don’t look so great.”

“No shit.” Mu Qing rolled his eyes.

He fixed his clothing first. There was a small tear in the side - when did that happen? Next, he pulled his hair back into a ponytail. Now, even if he didn’t feel great, he looked fine.

“Are you able to look…normal?” Mu Qing asked the fox, “Also, what’s your name? I can’t just call you fox.”

“My name's Hu Huanjue,”

A bit on the nose, isn’t it?

“And yes, I can look ‘normal’.”

He stood on his hind legs, slowly turning human. He was dressed in orange and black robes, similar to his own fur pattern. The edge of his robes were a creamy white. His hair - a dusty brown color - was tied back in a bun. There was nothing fancy about his appearance, but he carried himself with an important air.

Hu Huanjue brushed his hands off. His nails were long, sharp, and dusty white.

“You don’t look so normal,” Mu Qing said sharply.

Hu Huanjue shrugged in response.

“So,” He clapped, “What are we doing first?”

“Hmph. I need to check in with Feng Xin. You need to figure out what’s wrong with him.”

Hu Huanjue smiled. His teeth were sharp.

“Perfect.”

The pair walked through the streets of the Heavenly Capital. After Hua Cheng’s marriage to Xie Lian, powerful ghosts and spirits became…not common but not rare.

Hu Huanjue’s sharp smile greeted the assorted god’s gaze. Each looked away quickly, not wanting to get cut.

Mu Qing ignored him. He was focused on getting to Feng Xin’s palace, nothing else. Between his steely gaze and Hu Huanjue’s sharp one, no one stayed in their path.

The palace of Nan Yang had been placed as far away as possible from the palace of Xuan Zhen. This only continued to irritate Mu Qing, who had to trek across the capital nearly every day. He was barred from transporting anywhere near Feng Xin’s palace.

(For good reason)

When they arrived, Hu Huanjue hovered in the doorway.

“Well, aren’t you going to come?” Mu Qing asked.

Hu Huanjue shook his head.

“No, I’m going to look around. I don’t know how he fell into that state, it could be anything from a plant to a demon. Maybe something will be lurking around. Plus, spirit’s always leave traces,” Hu Huanjue’s grin grew wider.

Mu Qing sighed without sound, rolled his eyes in his head, and nodded.

“Very well.”

Hu Huanjue gestured for Mu Qing to enter Feng Xin’s room. Mu Qing shook his head. He wanted to do one thing first.

“Li Junlan?” He called.

The attendant swiftly arrived.

“Yes?”

“How long has it been since anyone checked in with Feng Xin?”

“No one has but you”

Mu Qing wasn’t surprised.

“Hm. Has anything gotten worse? Better?”

“He definitely likes having you around. General Nan Yang gets pissed when you leave,” Li Junlan’s eyes pleaded for Mu Qing to stay, even if he didn’t want to admit it. “Anytime someone steps in the room, he throws things and tries to bite them or claw their eyes out.”

Mu Qing rolled his eyes. Even if Feng Xin didn’t remember him, Mu Qing certainly remembered Feng Xin. And those two were tactics Feng Xin would never stoop to.

“Fine. I’ll deal with him. Come with me.”

Li Junlan cocked his head, but followed the general.

Mu Qing stepped into Feng Xin’s room. He righted the furniture, placed books back on shelves, and wiped the floor of blood. Shit, did Feng Xin get hurt? Mu Qing felt guilt annoyance settle in his chest while cleaning up the blood.

He wasn’t trying to make the room perfect – It would just get destroyed soon anyway. So when the obvious messes were dealt with, he went searching for Feng Xin.

He found him in the middle of a room, the same two words scrawled on every surface. He sat in the far corner. His knees were tucked to his chest, and his eyes were closed.

And when they opened, it took Mu Qing’s breath away.

Mu Qing had spent a lot of time looking at Feng Xin’s eyes. He liked to see who would look away first - Feng Xin always did. They were constantly fighting. You can’t look away from your opponent, no matter what. He had given those eyes many bruises. He knew them well by now. He could probably tell you how many eyelashes Feng Xin had. 136

But he had never truly seen Feng Xin’s eyes.

They were like honey, swirling brown and gold. They were a cool, dark color, but made him feel warm. Mu Qing wanted to melt into them and let go of all his worries. Just lay there, and watch the liquid bronze shine. Wipe away the fog, clear Feng Xin’s mind. Go deeper, deeper into his molton brown eyes.

But he couldn’t do that. He had a job to do.

Chapter Text

The snake coiled around Feng Xin’s limbs, restricting him. He choked on the thick, empty air, tears ready to spill but held back, muscles aching.

“Feng Xin.”

The words sliced through the snake, shards of strokes cutting its scales. It fell away, disappearing. Its presence hung thick over his mind, but it no longer bound him.

“Yes?” He spoke into the silent void.

“Feng Xin!” He jolted. Whoever was calling for him sounded desperate.

The haze crept back in, the silence grew louder, Feng Xin relaxed. There’s nothing to worry about. Nothing.

“He’s gone again.” Mu Qing turned to face Li Junlan.

“Was he even here in the first place?” Li Junlan remarked. His face screwed up in confusion, searching Mu Qing for answers. But Mu Qing betrayed nothing, carefully controlled body language after years of avoiding misunderstandings. He only showed others what he wanted them to see.

Mu Qing gave no reply, instead turning back towards the door. He needed to speak to Feng Xin, but to do that, he’d need Feng Xin here. Hu Huanjue was his best bet.

Dismissing Li Junlan, he waited for the fox spirit in the hallway. Absent-mindedly, he picked at the skin around his nails, letting it fall and quickly mend anew.

The sound of sharp footsteps snapped him out of his blank daze.

“Did you find anything?”

“Nothing,” Hu Huanjue said, dejected.

Mu Qing had nothing to say in response. He turned back towards Feng Xin’s room, the brown wood mocking. It was the color of Feng Xin’s hair in the summer.

“Are we going to see him or not?” Hu Huanjue asked. Hu Huanjue tapped his heel against the ground, betraying his impatience. Mu Qing rolled his eyes, but placed his hand against the cool doorknob.

Mu Qing entered the room once again, this time with Hu Huanjue at his heels. Hu Huanjue almost seemed giddy at the prospect of having someone to examine. Even if Feng Xin was only another mystery to solve, Mu Qing was fine with that. As long as Feng Xin gets better.

Feng Xin was still seated in the center of the room. But smudges in his writing told Mu Qing he hadn’t been there the whole time. His face was calm and happy, eyes glassy and skin riddled with scars.

Mu Qing turned to Hu Huanjue. “So?”

Hu Huanjue raised his eyebrows. “Do you truly think I’ll know what’s wrong with him at one glance? Give me a minute.”

Hu Huanjue paused, “He’s fully under, right?”

“He should be,” Mu Qing responded.

“Great.” Hu Huanjue turned back to Feng Xin. “Pull me away if does anything, alright?”

“What are you-” Mu Qing was stopped as Hu Huanjue placed his hands on Feng Xin’s chest. His eyes – the color of fire red leaves in autumn – slowly unfocused to match Feng Xin’s.

“Fine. I’ll just wait for you to do whatever.” Mu Qing spoke into the empty air.

Chapter Text

Hu Huanjue came to in a foggy abyss. Not too unusual for someone’s mindscape. But this fog was heavy, trying to push Hu Huanjue out.

Hu Huanjue resisted, walking deeper in. Feng Xin’s mind was oddly blank, all dark and smoky. There were no whizzing lines of thought, or glowing spots of emotion. Just endless fog.

Hu Huanjue let the human disguise melt off. It wouldn’t be needed in a place like this. The feeling of canine grace settled back into his bones. He let out a satisfied sigh.

As he traveled closer to the mind’s core, the fog thickened. Now that was truly unusual. Most people’s subconscious would be murky, with the core consciousness clear – or at most, a few smoky parts if they were past their limit.

Gods, this was going to be fun!

“Feng Xin!” Hu Huanjue called out. All he got in response was a low hum. Whatever, that was better than nothing.

He drew deeper into Feng Xin’s mind. As he sank further, the fog stopped trying to push him out. It wrapped around his existence, seeing he held no malice.

Hu Huanjue relaxed. He let the fog shift and swirl, bringing him to a large rift through the non existent ground. Golden veins ran outward, illuminating the dark expanse. Double helixs surrounded him, made of sugar and gold. They looked like they would break if he so much as breathed, but he knew that even the strongest martial god couldn’t break them.

As he surveyed the land, he found a helix traveling down into the rift.

Ahhh Fuck it

Hu Huanjue jumped into the ravine. He fell as fast as light, as slow as the phases of the moon. It was everything and nothing. Feng Xin’s memories and wants and feelings flittered by. He was Feng Xin, he was Hu Huanjue. He was a human, he was a fox, a god, a spirit, a mortal, a ghost, he was no one and everyone.

He slammed into the ground – as hard as stone and as soft as rolling waves.

He looked around. What used to be a black abyss was not lit by thousands upon thousands of helix’s. Hu Huanjue wandered the gilded jungle, before reaching his destination.

A lone structure. Broken gold. But nothing lay on the floor. Whatever was supposed to be there never was.

Hu Huanjue ran his tail over the gleaming lines. Nothing. No memories assaulted him. Just the blank abyss.

The low hum in the background had disappeared. It was silent. Too silent for someone's mind.

Hu Huanjue whipped around to find a snake, coiled and serene.

“Hello,” He purred. The sound echoed through Feng Xin’s mind, but it was silent.

The snake didn’t move to strike. It watched his movement as Hu Huanjue circled the formation. If the snake didn’t pose him any harm, Hu Huanjue wouldn’t do anything to provoke it.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked, as relaxed as one would with an old friend.

I could ask you the same thing

Hu Huanjue didn’t reply. He waited for the snake to answer first.

I’m supposed to be here, you are not. So tell me, why are you here?

“Just doing someone a favor.”

The snake’s tongue flickered, tasting the air for lies. Sensing none, it pulled back, satisfied.

I haven’t seen you for a long while.

“And I didn’t realize you had a new target,” Hu Huanjue replied. He was sitting now, facing the snake. He lowered himself to lay down. There was no floor beneath his paws, only air.

Feng Xin isn’t a target. I’m doing him a favor.

“He’s gone mad. I wouldn’t have to be here if it wasn’t for you.”

I didn’t do any of this. He opened his mind to me.

Hu Huanjue hesitated before speaking once more.

“What name do you go by now?”

Lian Qing Mo

Hu Huanjue barked.

“I get it now.”

Lian Qing Mo hissed.

“Alright, alright. But you have to admit, it is a little funny.”

I suppose.

“What will it take for you to leave?”

Fix that, Lian Qing Mo swung his head towards the broken gold, and I can leave. But for now, I’m bound to his mind.

“Sounds good.” Hu Huanjue rose. He shook out the crick in his back, and sighed. Time to leave.

Chapter Text

"What do you need for him to," Mu Qing gestured towards Feng Xin, "go back to normal?"

Hu Huanjue quirked his eyebrow before holding out a piece of parchment. Lazy words were scrawled on it:

• Ginkgo biloba extract

• Magnolia Bark

• Bitter Orange

• Salt

• Rhubarb Root 

"Is this all?" Mu Qing asked.

Hu Huanjue shrugged, "Should be. Its pretty standard for this sort of thing."

"If it's 'standard', why did it take so long?" Agitation was starting to creep into Mu Qing's voice. He crossed his arms and started to tap an index finger against his forearm.

Hu Huanjue matched Mu Qing's posture.

"It's standard for the demon in Feng Xin's mind. But it wouldn't be standard if he simply was hallucinating."

Mu Qing huffed.

“Fine.” Mu Qing turned away from the fox spirit. His boots clicked against the floor as he left Feng Xin’s room.

“Where are you going?” Hu Huanjue ran after Mu Qing.

“The kitchens. They should have this there.”

Hu Huanjue didn’t say anything more. He followed Mu Qing’s footsteps. They echoed through the hallway, one that was only ever traveled by middle officials.

The kitchens were empty and clean. Gods do not need to eat — it only exists to mimic a mortal palace.

“Stand here,” Mu Qing’s voice bounced off the tan walls, leaving a lingering ringing.

Hu Huanjue shrugged. “Alright.”

The floor was riddled with broken glass. Vials that had never been opened were now smashed on the floor.

“Where is it,” he hissed, low. It was less of a snakes hiss, but a tigers growl.

“The salt?” Hu Huanjue piped up from the corner.

“Yes, the salt.” Mu Qing whipped around. He stood in the middle of the mess, eyes wide and fingers trembling. Hu Huanjue couldn’t tell if it was from anxiety or fury. Either way, he didn’t want to be inflicted with it.

“Catch.” Hu Huanjue threw another vial towards Mu Qing. Mu Qing’s snatched it from the air.

“Fuck you.”

“I think I was being helpful.”

Mu Qing crossed the room, glass crunching beneath his feet. He shoved the armful of vials into Hu Huanjue’s hands.

“There.”

Hu Huanjue smiled, a playful glint in his eye.

Feng Xin stroked the tiger curled around his torso. It’s silky, smooth fur brushed against his palm with each pass of his arm. He sat in a field of morning glory. Their delicate blooms were closed off from the harsh world.

A red apple sat beside him, untouched.

He hummed along with a song no one knows. He didn’t remember the last note that left his mouth, not did he know the next one. Feng Xin let is wash over his mind. The only thing that mattered was the now.

A bitter wave cascaded over his tongue. It carried on

and on

and on

and gone.

“Hold him steady,” Hu Huangjue said. Mu Qing nodded, moving two steps closer to Feng Xin’s side. “It should only be a moment.”

Hu Huanjue took a deep breath, letting himself fall into Feng Xin’s mind.

Lian Qing Mo was nowhere in sight.

Broken gold gleamed in front of him. He grabbed the vial of mixed herbs with his mouth, before shrugging of his human form.

Hu Huanjue set the vial gently on the ground. Before he could think twice, he smashed the vial to smithereens.

The glass didn’t shatter. It turned to smoke, winding up the gold. It encased it, clouding Hu Huanjue’s view.

But when it cleared, the gold was pristine. No cracks. No break.

There was no sound in this land. And yet, Hu Huangjue swore he could hear a soft whisper.

Thank you.

The tiger’s fur turned to silk, turned coarse, turned to nothing. Morning Glory wilted, buds dead before they could ever open up to the sunlight. The apple rotted, worms crawling within its core.

In front of him stood a man with a snake wrapped around his arm. A snake he knew all too well. Slick black scales and a smirking grin.

“Feng Xin,” The man spoke. His words weren’t washed out or blurred or sharp or brittle.

Feng Xin opened his mouth to reply. But how long had it been since he had spoken? His voice was a dead bird, no longer able to sing.

The snake leered.

It’s him, Feng Xin.

Feng Xin shook his head frantically.

“What-” The man opened his mouth. But the snake interjected, drowning out his soft words.

It’s real. He wanted me to leave. Let him.

“No. No. He wouldn’t see me. Not like this. I’m a disgrace.”

Just tell him, and I’ll leave you be.

“I won’t.”

Why, Feng Xin? The snake huffed.

“…”

Fine. I’ll do it for you.

The snake lunged, curling around Feng Xin’s neck and sinking its fangs in.

Speak.

“I-”

Mu Qing stared at Feng Xin. He was still speaking into the empty air, mumbled beneath his breath.

“I know he will never love me. He’s made that clear.”

Feng Xin was in love with somebody? How did Mu Qing not know? Had he been rejected?

…Had they cursed him?

Why won’t he love you? You never confessed, did you?

“Have you seen the way he looks at me?! He’s always glaring, even in the middle of meetings!”

So Feng Xin must see him often. Who, Pei Ming? But Pei Ming wouldn’t be the kind to hate a potential lover, and he certainly wouldn’t be so mean about it.

Xie Lian definitely didn’t hate Feng Xin, nor did Quan Yizhen or Shi Qingxuan.

Mu Qing had seen Shi Wudu and Feng Xin together, and they never seemed like more than friends — and friends was pushing it. They were both powerful gods but…it didn’t seem right. Besides, he’d been missing, Mu Qing couldn’t exactly ask him.

Which left Hua Cheng.

Xie Lian? Mu Qing’s voice rang through the communication array

Yes? Xie Lian replied.

Where’s Hua Cheng? I want to ask him about something.

He’s with me at Puqi shrine. Would you like to meet us here?

Sure.

Mu Qing descended from the heavens in a hurry. He left Hu Huanjue to watch Feng Xin.

“Mu Qing, what a pleasure to see you.” Hua Cheng was smiling, but there was nothing about his expression that implied his words were true. “Why’d you need to see me?”

“Is Feng Xin in love with you?” No point in wasting time.

Hua Cheng blinked once, twice. “I’m sorry?”

“He was murmuring about someone. He said they would never love him. You were the only one who fit all his criteria.”

Hua Cheng opened his mouth, closed it again. “I don’t think I’m the one you’re looking for.”

Xie Lian stepped out from behind the door. “Mu Qing, would you like to come in?”

“It’s fine, I’ll only be a minute more,” Mu Qing replied.

“If you aren’t the one, then who else is there?” Mu Qing was starting to get impatient.

“What was his criteria, again?” Hua Cheng asked.

“He ‘hates’ Feng Xin, he’s always glaring during meetings, he made it clear he doesn’t love Feng Xin.”

“Ah,” Hua Cheng nodded, “And why exactly do you need to know who he loves?”

Mu Qing froze, “I-, He-, It just seems important. Feng Xin hasn’t been this coherent for weeks. It’s the first thing he said.”

“Then I can only think of one person who would satisfy those conditions.”

Mu Qing scowled. Why was this one-eyed bitch gatekeeping?

“Who?” His voice lifted in irritation.

“You.”