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There were quite a few things that might catch one’s attention upon arriving at the house. While it was rather simple and small, it boasted of the highest quality craftsmanship; cherrywood pillars and sliding wooden doors carved with dancing dragons and bouncing bunnies, a sweeping black pagoda roof that flicked back up towards the heavens, and a porch that wrapped around the house adorned with an ornately carved wooden railing. 

The house only had two rooms: the main room and the bedroom. The main room consisted of dark cherry floors and a sunken hearth with thin mats. The bedroom was similarly undecorated; it had no doors, only a large circular archway and a thin bedroll placed in the corner of the room. 

Indeed, there were three words one could use to describe the house: simple, traditional, and efficient. There was not a single item within it that did not serve a purpose. 

If one did not find the house captivating enough, which was perfectly understandable, then one might find themselves entranced by the garden. As the true star, one would be hard-pressed to find such a meticulously crafted garden outside of a royal palace. Cobbled stone pathways lined with larger, rounded stones snaked throughout the garden as moss grew in between the rocks. A perfectly arched half-moon bridge made of stone stretched over a crystal clear pond. Koi swam in the gentle waters below, the white water lilies in full bloom. 

Lush, dark greenery spanned every corner of the impressively large garden. Umbrella pines, China fir, dove trees, Yunnan cypress, ferns, arrow bamboo; all were delicately cultivated and arranged along the stone pathways. White chrysanthemums, lilies of the valley, and star jasmine grew throughout the garden, the white of the flowers a nice contrast between the dark green of the trees. Stone sculptures and fountains were placed off the walkways. Enclosing all this was a tall, neat stone wall, and further beyond that were towering mountains that looked like they’d been painted into existence. 

The most special thing about the garden and house, however, was just through a circular arch in the stone wall and up a short flight of weathered stone stairs. This led to a small clearing where a natural hot spring sat, the water a rich and clean blue. A massive wisteria tree grew on the rocky outcropping next to the pool. The wisteria provided the hot spring with natural cover, the flowers like an umbrella-shaped curtain around the pool. 

The house, garden, and hot spring were truly one of a kind and were absolutely breathtaking. Massive, beautiful, and well-maintained; one would find it difficult to forge any complaints about their stay here. 

However, the first things he noticed upon waking was not not any of that, but were these: 

One: he was naked. 

Two: he had no spiritual energy and no access to his communication array. 

Three: placed in front of the bedroll was a plain set of thin silk robes and three dildos of varying sizes. 

He resolutely put the robes on, tying it at the waist. He ignored the dildos, not deigning to acknowledge their presence with even a blush. 

An old pot of tea hung in the hearth when he exited the bedroom. Embers died beneath it, the rich orange glow made brighter in the pale blue light that filtered in from dawn. He walked past it and threw open the main set of sliding doors, gazing out over the garden. He placed his hands on his hips, sucking his teeth in frustration. 

“Fuck me,” he said. He sat on the porch of the house, his back against a column and his elbows on his knees. 

He might as well make himself as comfortable as he could be. He was going to be here for a while. 

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆

Four decades ago, people started going missing in the east-west mountain range. They’d disappear for weeks to months at a time, with the longest case being gone for eleven months. It was seemingly random; only one person from a group of people would go missing, and it was impossible to predict which one it would be. 

Upon returning to their villages, all people who had gone missing would be remarkably… happy. Their skin would be clear and glowing, their smiles rejuvenated and their eyes bright. There was nothing to hint that they had just been missing in the mountains for months. 

The most bizarre thing, however, was that the women would come back pregnant and with a husband. Even if they had gone into the mountains alone or with others of the game gender, every person came back happily married while almost all the women would be pregnant. 

If one were to ask the couples how this occurred, they would all be quite dodgy and refuse to elaborate on the circumstances upon which they met. It was always the same story: “we got lost in the woods and found each other.” There was no evidence of foul play or that anyone was doing something against their will. 

The strange phenomena in the mountains became enough of a local legend that people started deliberately journeying to the mountain in hopes of finding a partner. They believed the land to be full of fertile and spiritual energy, and rumors said that a powerful matchmaker blessed by the gods lived there. 

Since no mortal actually had a problem with this so-called matchmaker, heaven never found out about it. When people went missing in the mountains, their family no longer prayed for their safe return. Instead, they sent their gifts to the gods in gratitude. 

It wasn’t until he started receiving prayers for the consequences of ‘the matchmaker’ that it all came to light.

General Xuan Zhen, hear my prayer; my son has been feeling ill lately… 

General Xuan Zhen, I pray you send good health to my sister, who has been unable to rise from bed… 

General Xuan Zhen, may you grant my mother the will to rise and work another day…

Out of nowhere, prayers from stressed loved ones flooded in. People with no connection to each other from all over the south had all suddenly fallen depressed. Sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers. It didn’t matter, and the pattern was completely random. 

So, Mu Qing got to work. 

The oldest victim was a forty-one year old mother. The youngest was a baby of three months. When he examined them, he discovered that they all had a curse placed on them that slowly leached away their spiritual energy. This left the infant listless in her cradle, children still in their rooms, and parents unable to provide.  

One would then reasonably ask: how could an infant possibly have contracted the same curse as a middle-aged woman? 

When Mu Qing went to interview the families of the afflicted, he learned exactly one thing about each and every one of the victims: their parents were sickeningly, disgustingly, horrendously in love with each other. Other than that, he got nothing. 

Mu Qing suspected that the people were too afraid to confront the truth to divulge any details just yet, so he waited. When word of a cultivator in black began to spread, that was when people began to think: 

Could it be? 

Once the first seed of doubt was planted, it didn’t take long for it to spread. It wasn’t until Mu Qing visited the newlywed parents of the infant that he finally got somewhere, since the pair had been desperate to do anything to save their baby. 

“Do you think it could be…?” the husband anxiously asked his wife. He was standing off to the side of the room, gnawing on his fingernails. 

The wife went stiff from where she was sitting next to Mu Qing on the floor. He had the infant in his arms so he could slowly channel his spiritual energy into her, bringing color and warmth back to her pale cheeks. 

He glanced between the husband and the wife silently. The wife seemed to know exactly what her husband meant, and she wrung her hands before turning to Mu Qing, knowing she could hide it no longer.

“We met in the east-west mountains,” she said. It was incredibly vague and had no precursor to give it context, but it was all Mu Qing needed. 

A few days after that Mu Qing found himself in a village at the foot of the east-west mountain range. When an older woman teased him about going into the mountains to ‘meet his match,’ the second puzzle piece clicked into place. 

He scoured local records from the past forty-one years to find anything that could allude to what was happening in the mountains as well as find a link to all the afflicted. That was when Mu Qing found out another crucial piece of information: all the victims were the children of couples who had met each other in the mountains. 

However, bizarrely, some of the couples listed in the records did not have children who were on the list of afflicted. Nothing in the records stated anything about why this could be. Since none of the locals knew what happened in the mountains and the couples themselves never spoke of the experience, Mu Qing was left with locked doors everywhere he turned.

Not one to be deterred, he found the couples that had remained safe and quickly found out why they remained safe—they were all childless. 

The first couple he visited were two women, and he quickly stuttered out an apology and left. The second had been a pair of men, and Mu Qing felt himself blush furiously before he turned around and left without further explanation. 

The last couple was a man and a woman. Mu Qing casually followed them around until he could sneak himself into a public conversation with them. He asked them why they hadn’t had any children the way an annoying auntie might ask her nieces when they were marrying, and the woman blushed. 

“Why does everyone keep asking us that?” she said, slapping her hands against her cheeks. “I’m just not ready to be a mother yet!” 

The rest of the crowd laughed good-naturedly at her shy outburst, but it was the phrasing that Mu Qing clung to: yet. 

With that, the whole picture was painted. 

Forty years ago, a ghost set up a trap to capture young people who were fertile and in their prime breeding age. The ghost’s goal was for the trapped people to create perfect offspring for it to siphon the spiritual energy out of, rendering all the afflicted depressed. 

What was the best way to create perfect offspring? With perfect parents, of course. 

When the ghost kidnapped people, it used the spiritual energy in its domain to instantly find out what a person wanted in a partner and what they could offer to a partner. It then brought the most compatible people together and trapped them in its domain until they procreated. This would take longer for some couples than others—one pair had gone missing for eleven months because the woman had been in love with another man at the start and had to learn to fall in love with her current husband, the man she’d been stuck with. Another pair, the two childhood friends who were not yet ready to be parents, were allowed to leave after two days. 

After finding all this out, Mu Qing came to a few conclusions: 

The ghost could only read the kidnapped people once they were caught in the domain. This was why it had caught two same-sex couples. In order to keep the domain from accumulating any negative energy or to avoid keeping the kidnapped person forever, the ghost found the person their most compatible match even if there was no chance of pregnancy. This meant that the ghost could not release the kidnappee; once in the domain, the only way one could leave was by getting matched. 

However, if that were the only requirement, then all the couples could have left immediately after their ‘match’ showed up. This obviously wasn’t true, considering the couple who had been stuck for eleven months and the couple who didn’t want children. One would think that the ghost would just discard couples like these in that case, since its plan hinged on the offspring. One couple had not been in love and had children and escaped, while the other had been in love and had not had children. What did they have in common? Why were they both allowed to leave despite being so different? 

Well, they had sex, of course. 

This meant that everybody had to have sex in order to get out, but nobody had to get pregnant if they did not want to be pregnant. By those points, the only real ‘conditions’ of the curse were falling in love and starting a family. Mu Qing had to respect the ghost that set up such a complicated and rewarding domain; most domains were malevolent, but this one was more of a blessing than anything. If it hadn’t been for the ghost suddenly sucking away the spiritual energy of the children conceived in its domain, it might’ve gone unnoticed for another handful of decades. And if Mu Qing had known about it, he might’ve been more inclined to figuring out a solution to let it stay. 

Alas, he couldn’t sit by and allow his followers to suffer, even if the domain did cause a lot of happiness for a lot of people. So, Mu Qing made charms with his spiritual energy for the victims, got on his horse, and set off for the east-west mountains. He swirled his spiritual energy tightly over the place where his womb used to be in order to mimic fertility. Once inside the domain, he’d be able to use his spiritual energy to dismantle the illusion. He’d confront the ghost and dispel them if they were aggressive or send them to Xie Lian and Hua Cheng if they were not. Then he’d destroy the domain, allowing all the victims to recover. 

Of course, that’s exactly how it would’ve gone, had Mu Qing not been heaven’s and earth’s greatest fool. He’d been so preoccupied with getting to the source of the victims’ suffering that he never stopped to consider the actual specifics of the domain. Had he asked the couples what the domain was like, then he would’ve known that absolutely nothing apart from himself would pass into the domain, including his spiritual powers. He would’ve been able to prepare a better plan in that case; he could’ve created a clone to accompany him into the domain. 

And, if he had to admit it, there was a teeny, tiny piece of his heart that almost… hoped for this. When he first discovered the domain and then realized the specifics behind it, he had foolishly allowed himself to daydream about it. What would it be like if he were the one in the domain? Would the ghost be able to find someone he was compatible with, someone who didn’t mind that he could not get pregnant even though he should be able to? Someone who was able to know him, and still want him?  

Mu Qing blamed this idiotic and naive way of thinking on the fairy tales he read as a kid and eight hundred and sixty eight years of loneliness. He should’ve known better; he wasn’t insecure enough to think he was completely unlovable, but this domain was starting to prove otherwise. 

See, Mu Qing had been enough of a hopeless romantic and diligent investigator to inquire as to how long it took for the couples to meet each other in the domain. The shortest wait time was zero seconds, for some couples had woken up together. The longest wait time was three days, maximum. 

The second partner arrived later because they had to travel to the mountains in order to be spirited away in the first place, and just happened to be traveling through the mountains at the time they got kidnapped. Thus, realistically, anyone’s ’perfect match’ could just be someone who was fertile and in the right place at the right time. 

He wasn’t a complete idiot, after all, not like others he knew—he had been prepared in case something had gone wrong and trapped him in the domain. If he couldn’t dismantle the array from within, then he’d have sex with his ‘match’ as an emergency exit. 

So, when three days came and went and Mu Qing was still alone, he understood two things:  

One: while in this domain, the ghost understood the basics of who he was as a person—enough to be able to place him with a compatible partner.  

Two: that meant that out of everyone in the east-west mountains, none of them had been compatible with Mu Qing. Not a single person from either gender, be it mortal, god, or ghost. 

With no way to call for help, an inability to be loved, and no womb to get pregnant, Mu Qing was effectively stuck in the ghost’s domain for eternity. 

There were worse places to be stuck in, at least. The house didn’t have holes in the roof or walls, so Mu Qing was happy with it despite its barren simplicity. There were always clean robes ready for him when he wanted them, and in the mornings there was always a hot pot of tea and bowl of rice congee on the hearth. After a few days, even his favorite jasmine soaps and oils started appearing after he found himself subconsciously wishing for them. 

Eventually he began crafting things out of bamboo with lack of something better to do. He made a bamboo deer scare even though there were no deers to scare, a bamboo noodle slide even though he had no noodles to slide, and a bamboo strike. When he got bored with that, he wove himself a basket, and then a hat, and then another hat when the first one turned out ugly. 

To its credit, the ghost was going above and beyond for Mu Qing even though he was essentially a parasite. It would be just as easy to let Mu Qing die in its domain, yet he never went hungry and always had a place to sleep. The ghost even kept providing dildos of increasingly bizarre shapes and sizes even though Mu Qing had never asked for them nor had he subconsciously wanted them.

It was just a shame that he had to spend the rest of his life alone here, right when he’d started to enjoy the company of others. 

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆

Stars twinkled merrily as pale moonlight found its way through the cracks in the clouds. Leaves from the deciduous trees in the garden broke off to flutter around in the air, playfully drifting across the surface of the pond. The koi nipped at the leaves through the water. 

Mu Qing didn’t know how long he’d been here anymore. It was long enough that the deciduous trees in the garden turned a rich red and began to shed their leaves, which meant he had to have been here for about two months. He didn’t know how time here correlated to time in the real world, but the ‘days’ were the same length, and Mu Qing had stopped counting at twenty-nine days, so it was quite plausible. 

He didn’t know how much longer he’d be stuck here, either. It was clear his ‘perfect match’ didn’t exist, so he couldn’t be set free that way. 

He had tried leaving by climbing over the stone wall, but he inexplicably passed out every time he made it over and woke back up in the bedroom. When he tried to leave through the forest surrounding the hot spring and giant wisteria, he would always come back to the hot spring in less than half a kilometer. 

It was impossible to leave. As bleak as it was, Mu Qing just had to accept the fact that this was his new home. 

He sighed, stretching his arms and legs out in front of him with a groan like an oversized cat. He was laying on his back on the half moon bridge over the pond, listening to the deer scare and the koi nip at the leaves. He was wearing nothing but loosely tied silk robes, a ribbon at the tips of his hair tying the ends together.  

Tap… tap… tap… shwiff… tap… tap….  

Wait, what? The deer scare didn’t make that noise. He hazily blinked his eyes open, the unexpected noise pulling him from the light slumber he’d settled into. 

“…Mu Qing?” 

Mu Qing couldn’t help it: he screamed. He sat up in an instant, snapping his legs shut. He blinked at the large silhouette cast in a moonlit wreath; they were shirtless, and soft silver light curled around their biceps and chest like delicate jewelry. They wore extremely thin and loose silk lounge pants, and a long silver ribbon held their hair up in a ponytail. It was undoubtedly… 

“…F-Feng Xin?!” 

Feng stared at him with a betrayed pout. “So this is where you’ve been hiding for the past month and a half?!” he demanded. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you—mmph!” 

Whatever Feng Xin was planning on saying was lost when Mu Qing scrambled to his feet and threw himself into Feng Xin’s arms. Feng Xin caught his weight easily, as rigid and sure as ever despite the surprise hug. 

“Fuck,” said Mu Qing. He was so relieved to see another person after so long of being alone that he was shaking with it, and he momentarily forgot about the ghost and the domain. When his brain finally caught up to him he stumbled backwards away from Feng Xin, absolutely mortified. 

“W-what the fuck are you doing here?!” he squealed. “What—what—are you even real?!” 

Feng Xin scowled as he leaned against the railing of the bridge. He blew out a haughty breath, his bangs fluttering with it. “Some ingrate you are! I show up to save you and the first thing you do is ask what I’m doing here?!”

“I didn’t need you to save me!” snapped Mu Qing, even though he definitely did need saving. “I didn’t—I didn’t—I was perfectly content on my own! I didn’t fucking need you to show up!”

Feng Xin crossed his arms with a scoff and an eye roll that Mu Qing was impressed by. “Of course you’d be fucking mad that I’d come looking for you! Wait, don’t—don’t tell me… you fucking disappeared on purpose?”  

“No!” Mu Qing cried indignantly at the accusation. “Well, technically, yes, but—but don’t turn this around on me! If you thought I fucking left of my own volition, then why the fuck would you come looking for me, huh?!”

“You—! I was fucking worried about you, asshole! You fucking disappeared for almost two months without telling anyone! I was fucking worried!” Feng Xin yelled, a hurt look on his face. “I thought you—I thought something bad happened to you and you’d just been here doing what—drinking tea and jacking off?!” 

“I haven’t—I haven’t been doing that!” said Mu Qing. “The tea, yes, but not the other thing—ugh, fuck you! I don’t need to tell you anything, anyway! 

Feng Xin clicked his tongue and glared off into the distance. “For fuck’s sake, just tell me how the fuck to get out of here. I didn’t mean for my presence to be such a burden to you.” 

It was like someone had dropped an anvil made of pure dread directly onto Mu Qing’s head. He folded his fingers into a tent, resting them against his lips. He closed his eyes and counted to ten five times, taking deep meditative breaths the entire time. 

Finally, he said, “you don’t fucking know about the curse?” 

Feng Xin looked perplexed and a little bit scared. “N-no? I told you, I just came looking for you—what’s this about a curse?” 

It wasn’t Feng Xin’s fault, truly. Mu Qing had been the one to descend without telling a single person about what he was doing. There were no scrolls regarding the curse since he was the discoverer, and it had taken him about four months of investigating the victims before he even found out about the domain in the mountains. How could he possibly expect Feng Xin to know anything when he didn’t even have access to the prayers that started all this? 

Mu Qing knew all that, but right now all he could think about was the fact that he was going to be stuck here in this stupid fucking garden for the rest of his life with the one man who would never want to fuck him. 

The ghost probably saw Feng Xin’s thick fertile aura pass through the mountains and decided to just give him to Mu Qing just so it could get rid of Mu Qing once and for all. Unfortunately, the ghost matched the wrong people together, in all the worst possible ways. 

Mu Qing buried his face in his hands, feeling a bit like he just swallowed a live fish. “Feng Xin, we’re going to be stuck here for the rest of our fucking lives!” 

Feng Xin made a startled noise and reached out to Mu Qing, his hand hovering in the air. “Hey, that’s not true,” he said soothingly, as if he was trying to calm a spooked horse. “I’m here now. We’ll figure it out.” 

“You being here is the fucking problem!” Mu Qing said as he slapped Feng Xin’s hand away. “You asshole, you—you didn’t even know what you were getting yourself into! Now you’re stuck here when you didn’t have to be—!” 

“Hey!” said Feng Xin, interrupting his spiral as he smacked Mu Qing’s hands back in petty retaliation. “Don’t be such a fucking dickhead! I know you’re secretly grateful that I’m here. Complain all you want, but I know that you hate being alone! If we have to be stuck here, then at least we’re stuck together, right?!”  

Mu Qing rolled his eyes, but he knew his cheeks were red and he sighed when he couldn’t think of anything to retaliate with.  

Feng Xin’s shoulders relaxed monumentally now that Mu Qing was no longer bristling. “Now, tell me what the conditions are to get out of here.” 

“Fuck you. I don’t know,” Mu Qing lied.

“Fucking liar!” said Feng Xin with an accusing finger jabbed in his direction. “You’ve been investigating this place for months—how could you not know?!” 

Mu Qing tossed him a reproachful glare. “It’s not an option available to us, so just drop it.” 

“What the fuck do you mean it’s not available to us?” Feng Xin scoffed. “How could you know that if we haven’t tried it?” 

“Because I know, Feng Xin!” 

“How? You tend to convince yourself of the worst case scenario—are you sure it’s actually not an option, or are you making yourself believe the worst again?” 

“I’m fucking sure!” 

“How?!” Feng Xin repeated, a touch more desperately this time. “Just—can’t you just fucking tell me? When are you going to learn that you can tell me things and I won’t fucking hate you for it—?” 

“You have to get me pregnant!” Mu Qing yelled, screwing his eyes shut. It was silent for a couple moments, only the deer scare interrupting the night. After a couple taps, Mu Qing decided to take a peek at Feng Xin. 

He had a stormy expression on his face, but Mu Qing knew this was not a look of anger or irritation: no, this was a look of bewilderment with a hint of something predatory Mu Qing had never seen before. 

Feng Xin cleared his throat once, twice. “I beg your motherfucking pardon?” 

Mu Qing sighed and turned his back to Feng Xin so he could look over the koi. “That’s the condition to get out,” he said bitterly. “The people that got trapped here could only leave once they got pregnant.” 

Feng Xin took a deep breath behind him. “B-but we’re both m-men?” he stuttered out helplessly. 

“That is an astute observation,” muttered Mu Qing. 

It was true, of course. Mu Qing was a man and had been a man the entire time Feng Xin had known him. If Feng Xin knew the truth, though, what would he think?  

“I just—fuck, how do you know you have to get pregnant?” said Feng Xin. “I mean, we’re both dudes here, so obviously neither of us can get pregnant. Just sex should be enough in that case, right?” 

Of course, in the instances where people couldn’t get pregnant or didn’t want to be pregnant, pregnancy was not required. The same sex couples were free to leave after having sex, and even the woman who did not want to have children was not forced to carry a child. 

Even though Mu Qing was not the same sex as Feng Xin, he was unable to get pregnant. He had torn out his own reproductive organs centuries ago, right after he became immortal and could do it without dying. In their case, simply having sex would be more than enough to escape. 

Feng Xin did not know any of the details behind the curse, so his line of thinking was perfectly reasonable and sound. 

“I am not having sex with you!” Mu Qing cried, his ears heating up. “That’s just— no! Absolutely not!” 

“What?!” Feng Xin gasped, affronted. “Why not?! If it’s the key to getting out of this place, then why not?! I mean, it’s just sex, right? We can do it and forget about it if that what—“  

“Because it’s—it’s not ‘just sex’ to me!” harshly interrupted Mu Qing. “That’s—you’re asking for my virginity!” 

Feng Xin sucked in an audible breath. After a minute he joined Mu Qing on the same side of the bridge. “Sorry,” he awkwardly said, scratching his ponytail. “I forgot about your vows. Don’t—just forget I said anything. We can figure out another way, right?” 

Mu Qing glanced at him in shock, his tongue feeling rather thick in his mouth. “R-right,” he stuttered. 

In truth, he hadn’t been talking about his vows at all. He hadn’t even considered his vows in the slightest. 

He meant that as long as it was Feng Xin, it could never be ‘just sex.’ How could Mu Qing ever possibly have casual sex with the man he’s been in love with for centuries?

Feng Xin gave a tight smile and a stiff nod. He tried to give off an air of relaxation, but it fell flat. “Mind giving me a tour of the place?” 

There really was not much of ‘the place’ that could be seen in the dark.  Still, Mu Qing wasn’t an idiot and could recognize the peace offering for what it was.

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆

That first night Feng Xin arrived was the first night Mu Qing slept with a pillow and a blanket. 

After giving him a half-hearted tour of the garden and path leading up to the hot spring, he brought Feng Xin back to their bedroom. That was the reality of it now—it was no longer his bedroom, but their bedroom. Sure, one or the other could do the polite dance of offering to sleep in the main room or even outside, but what was the point when they’d be here forever? 

He slid open the wooden doors to the main room, pausing slightly. The main room had remained unfurnished the entire time Mu Qing had been here, but now dark green sitting pillows were tossed around everywhere. A honeycomb bookshelf of scrolls was pushed against the far wall. Thick fur rugs covered the dark floors. Potted orchids appeared on a circular shelf while sumi ink paintings hung on the walls. 

He quickly went to examine the bedroom, shocked to see that it had fared the same upgraded treatment. No longer was the thin mat Mu Qing had been sleeping on for—apparently—a month and a half. Now a plush bed was pushed against the wall, piled high with thick blankets and pillows. Most wondrous of all, however, was that the dildos had miraculously disappeared. 

“What the fuck?” said Mu Qing. It was bizarre to see what had once been his bedroom turn into something so cozy, but perhaps… “did it look like this when you got here?” 

“I saw the dildos, if that’s what you’re trying to ask,” said Feng Xin. 

Mu Qing felt his face heat up, and he held his breath to keep himself from turning around to kick Feng Xin in his shin. How the fuck could Feng Xin so accurately guess Mu Qing’s true intentions behind such an innocent question?! 

“F-fuck you! That was not what I was asking, asshole!” Mu Qing lied. He stomped into the room, grabbing one of the mink blankets before settling down on the side of the bed closest to the wall. He kept his legs firmly shut and his back to Feng Xin as he arranged the blanket around himself. 

From the moment Feng Xin arrived, Mu Qing had been ultra aware of the fact that he and Feng Xin had been wearing nothing but thin robes—pants, in Feng Xin’s case. Now, though, he really had to consider the ‘nothing but’ part of that as he clenched his thighs together tightly. One wrong move, and he’d be flashing himself to Feng Xin. 

Feng Xin seemed to be equally as aware of this. He blew out the small candle to bathe the room in indigo darkness, settling into the bed with his back to Mu Qing. 

It was clear neither of them were sleeping, but neither spoke up in fear of disrupting the gentle atmosphere. 

After a couple of minutes, Feng Xin shifted. “I’m really glad you’re okay,” he whispered. “I really thought—I really thought I’d spend all that time looking for you just to find you dead.” 

Mu Qing squirmed, uncomfortable with such an honest admission. “Why’d you even come looking for me, anyway?” he quietly asked. 

The blankets rustled on the other side, and Mu Qing could feel Feng Xin sit up. “Why’d I—? Fuck, why wouldn’t I come looking for you?” Feng Xin said. “Did you really think no one would notice you were gone?” 

Mu Qing shrugged as best as he could while lying on his side. “I knew someone was bound to notice, but I didn’t think anyone would care enough to come looking for me,” he answered honestly. “Besides, it’s not like you noticed immediately. You said I’d been gone for almost two months already.” 

“I noticed the first fucking day!” Feng Xin cried indignantly. “Fuck, Mu Qing, you’re my fucking friend! Of course I would fucking notice if you were gone! Of course I would fucking miss you!” 

Mu Qing blinked, forcing himself to sit up to match Feng Xin’s posture once he heard the distraught note in Feng Xin’s voice. 

“H-how?” he hesitantly asked. “We hadn’t—we hadn’t seen each other for a week before I went missing. How could you notice when I was gone?” 

“We talk to each other every single day, asshole!” said Feng Xin. “What was I supposed to think when you stopped replying without warning, huh?! Or when you wouldn’t answer your array anymore and nobody had heard from you in days?! I—“ he cut himself off, and Mu Qing could see the tears shining in his eyes even through the darkness. “I thought you were dead!” 

Mu Qing didn’t know what to do when faced with tears, so he very awkwardly raised his arms and held them open. After a moment Feng Xin sniffled and folded himself into Mu Qing’s embrace. It was ungraceful and stiff; it was the first real hug the two had ever actually shared, and neither of them knew where to put their hands. Mu Qing was as rigid as a board in Feng Xin’s arms, and Feng Xin’s muscles were so tense it was like holding a rock. 

Mu Qing couldn’t take it, so he pulled Feng Xin against him tightly. He tucked Feng Xin’s head into his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his thighs and shoulders the way he would cradle a baby, and Feng Xin let out a deep sigh before melting into Mu Qing’s arms. 

“I’m alive,” Mu Qing uselessly said once Feng Xin had settled against him. “See? You found me. I’m okay.” 

Feng Xin chuckled wetly. “I really thought something horrible had happened to you,” he said. “You never even told me where you were going, you know? All I had to go off of was that thing you said about people going missing.” 

Mu Qing blinked a couple of times. “When did I say that?” he asked. “I don’t recall discussing the case with anyone.” 

“It was just in passing,” Feng Xin said with a small shake of his head. “When we were talking over the array, I asked why you were down in the mortal realm again, and you said, ‘people have been going missing.’ Then you went missing, so I figured you ended up in the same situation as them.” 

Mu Qing was befuddled. He could feel his cheeks flush as butterflies danced in his belly, and he was glad Feng Xin could not see his face. “I didn’t—I didn’t realize you’d been paying so much attention to the things I say,” he said, his mind still struggling to catch up to his heart. 

Feng Xin made an affronted noise. “I always pay attention to the things you say,” he said, like it was obvious. He didn’t seem to notice that he had just uprooted Mu Qing’s entire nervous system with that statement alone. “Thank the fucking gods, too. If it hadn’t been for me remembering everything you say, the dogs never would have been able to find you. At least I could narrow it down to our territory since you don’t concern yourself with the business of territories that aren’t ours….” 

Mu Qing’s heart was pounding. Feng Xin could definitely hear it from where he was curled up against Mu Qing’s chest. “You remember… everything?” 

Feng Xin went stiff in Mu Qing’s arms. “Okay, let’s not focus on that part,” he said, his voice going high-pitched. 

“I just— why?” Mu Qing asked, his hands curling into fists where he held Feng Xin. “Why would you waste so much effort on me?” 

“Waste—?! Nothing is a waste of effort when it comes to you!” Feng Xin said. He squirmed for a second; even in this unfamiliar embrace Mu Qing knew Feng Xin was going to separate himself from Mu Qing’s arms to smack him, so it was a pleasant surprise when Feng Xin instead went boneless in his arms again. He settled for slapping Mu Qing’s chest. “Get that through your thick fucking skull already!” 

Mu Qing smiled, turning his head so he could hide his lips in Feng Xin’s hair. It was, in that moment, where Mu Qing finally understood why Xie Lian liked Hua Cheng so much. Was this how he felt everyday? Like his brain had been drenched in honey, hot and sticky and sweet? 

“Your obsession with me aside—“ 

“—I am not that obsessed with you—!”

“—It doesn’t explain how you were able to find me. I mean, it took me months to even find out people were going missing in the east-west mountain range, and it was only because people started praying for an entirely different matter. How were you able to find me so fast?” 

“I told you, I took the dogs,” Feng Xin sniffed. “They can track anything as long as it still exists and they have a scent. Speaking of, I hope they’re okay….” 

Feng Xin’s pair of Chow Chows, very cleverly named Jin and Yin, had been gifted to him six years ago. He’d been coming down from his mountain abode when he ran into a traveler who had been ill prepared for the weather, so Feng Xin gave him his fur cloak and gloves and sent the traveler on his way. Two days later, the traveler came back with a red and a blue Chow Chow and said they were to be Feng Xin’s companions, meant to keep him warm since the god had so generously given up his own cloak for a mere mortal.  

While no one outwardly acknowledged it, everyone in the southeast knew that the shy man who lived high in the mountains was actually General Nan Yang. So when Feng Xin heard the traveler say so boldly that he knew of Feng Xin’s godhood, he’d been too embarrassed to reject the puppies. He took the pair and trained them, and now the most recently made statues of General Nan Yang included his precious dogs.

Mu Qing snorted. “So—what—you just took the dogs and searched all of China?” he teased. “That doesn’t seem very efficient.” 

“Of course not,” said Feng Xin sharply. “Why would I search all of China? I already said you don’t concern yourself with the business of territories that aren’t ours, so I just had to search the south until the dogs picked up your scent.” 

Mu Qing’s teasing derision died in his throat. “You… you really searched all of the southwest for me?” 

“And the southeast,” said Feng Xin. “I’d search the entire world for you if I had to.” 

“You said you’d thought I left again,” Mu Qing said quietly, resting his chin atop Feng Xin’s head. “Why would you go to such lengths for me if you really believed that?” 

Feng Xin sighed, his fingers pulling at a loose thread on Mu Qing’s robes. “I… I didn’t mean it. I was just upset that I’d been so fucking scared and you’d—you’d just been here, completely fine. I felt like such an idiot for worrying about you.” 

“For what it’s worth,” Mu Qing said, his stomach flipping with what he was about to admit. “You were right. I… I really don’t like being alone, and I—I’m happy it’s you. I mean—I was hoping y-you’d be the one to f-find me, so if I have to be stuck here with someone… I’m happy it’s you. I’d rather it be you than anyone else.” 

Feng Xin turned and snuggled into Mu Qing’s chest, and Mu Qing could feel Feng Xin’s smile against his thinly clothed collarbones like an iron brand. 

“Yeah? I’m happy I’m here with you, too,” Feng Xin sleepily murmured. “Could you imagine if you’d been stuck here with Pei Ming instead?” 

Mu Qing’s heart sank straight into his stomach at the prospect of that. Being stuck here with Pei Ming under the domain’s specific conditions? No thanks. 

“Hey,” Mu Qing said, a thought suddenly occurring to him. He poked Feng Xin in the ribs to keep him from dozing off. “Did you see my horse on the way here?” 

“Hmm?” Feng Xin yawned. “Yue or Tai?” 

Mu Qing deflated. “I guess you didn’t see her, then.” 

Feng Xin shook his head apologetically. “Maybe Yue and Tai are playing with Jin and Yin in another garden meant for horses and dogs.” 

Considering the details of the curse, it was highly unlikely, but Mu Qing did not think it was wise to tell that to Feng Xin. He settled their bodies so that they were lying down flat once more, Feng Xin’s back to his chest. This position somehow seemed much more… intimate than just holding his friend, and Mu Qing hesitantly began pulling away so he could retreat back to his side of the bed. 

Feng Xin grabbed Mu Qing’s wrist. His grip was light enough that Mu Qing could pull away if he wanted to, and when he didn’t, Feng Xin’s fingers tightened as he pulled Mu Qing’s arm under his to wrap around his chest. He intertwined their fingers as he held Mu Qing’s hand over his heart, and Mu Qing could feel the rapid and heavy thump-thump-thump of Feng Xin’s heart under his hand. 

“Can we stay like this?” Feng Xin quietly asked, his words almost lost to the darkness. “Just for a little longer?”

Instead of giving him a proper answer, Mu Qing allowed himself to hold Feng Xin tight as he buried his face between his shoulder blades. He’d been alone for so long—of course, Mu Qing had been alone his entire life, but this time he really thought he’d never see anyone again. 

He had daydreamed about Feng Xin showing up throughout the month when he was feeling particularly lonely, but he never actually thought it could happen. Now it was reality, and he was going to live with him. 

It was far better than anything he could have ever hoped for. 

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆

After living alone for so long, it was hard to try and get used to having another person around again. 

Not that Feng Xin was a bad roommate; no, the opposite, in fact. Feng Xin’s presence alone was enough to turn a plain building into a home. It was like his very existence breathed life into his surroundings, and it was obvious the house and garden were starting to adapt to it. 

Creature comforts that Mu Qing would have never thought to give himself started appearing. The day after Feng Xin first arrived introduced a vanity in the bedroom as well as a proper kitchen and living area in the main room. Then Mu Qing got a hair brush, slippers, and sewing supplies. Little inconsequential things he always enjoyed and spent his time on in the real world suddenly started showing up around the garden and house, finally giving the house some spirit and personality. 

Of course, Mu Qing had known about the comfort that Feng Xin brought to a place; they had been ‘roommates’ for quite a while back when Xianle first fell, after all. 

Back then, though, Feng Xin and Mu Qing had hated each other. They’d been two different feral animals forced into the same cage. They slept on the floor of buildings that violated several health codes and ate once every three days, taking their anger, stress, and grief out on each other. Mu Qing had never experienced what it was like to live with Feng Xin when they weren’t fighting for their lives. 

Now they had the safety and comfort of a proper bed to sleep in, no food insecurity, no fallen kingdom to cope with, no one else to take care of, and no work to attend to. With all these sources of stress eliminated, Feng Xin easily became a different animal to survive with.  

He was kind. He was patient. He was attentive. He was, most notably and quite oddly, quiet. 

He woke before Mu Qing every morning, as early of a riser as the sun he was named after. He would trek up to the hot spring to bathe and then come back half an hour later when Mu Qing was finally stirring awake, and every morning, Mu Qing would be greeted with soft smiles and tea ready for him. They’d sit together and eat their breakfast, and then throughout the day they’d go off and do their own thing. Mu Qing would spend his time inside reading or sewing actual clothing for them, while Feng Xin would spend most of the day outside lazing around the garden. Mu Qing had gone to check on him the other day and found Feng Xin fast asleep amidst the star jasmine, like a cat who had fallen victim to a particularly tempting ray of sunshine. At night, Mu Qing would go up to the hot spring to bathe. By the time he returned, Feng Xin would be asleep. 

That was how it had been since Feng Xin arrived. 

That morning, exactly a week after Feng Xin had arrived, Mu Qing woke to the distinctive sound of chickens and something frying. The house was small and had no actual doors separating the bedroom from the main room, so Mu Qing was able to perfectly hear Feng Xin say softly coo to a damned chicken of all things while the scent of something sweet filled the house. 

He made sure his thin silk robes were still arranged respectfully after a night of sleep before he put his hair in a high ponytail, stepping out into the main room to see what Feng Xin had gotten himself up to while he was still sleeping. 

The doors to the house were wide open to let the bright sunlight in. Four white silk chickens sat outside on the porch, pecking away at a handful of seeds that had been tossed there. 

Feng Xin stood in the kitchen, his back to Mu Qing. He was stirring something on the stove, humming to himself as swayed in place. He kept his hair down more often these days, and now half of the thick brown waves cascaded all the way down his spine while he kept the other half pulled up in a sloppy ponytail. He was still wearing nothing but the thin and loose lounge pants he arrived in; he tried putting on one of Mu Qing’s robes to cover up his chest at Mu Qing’s insistence, but his shoulders and biceps were so large compared to Mu Qing that the robes immediately tore in half the second Feng Xin flexed. 

“What are you doing?” Mu Qing asked. 

Feng Xin turned around with a smile. His bangs fell all over into his face, only one of his eyes visible through the thick curtain. “Mu Qing!” he said. “You’re awake! Just in time, too. I’m almost done with breakfast.” 

Mu Qing gave him a confused look and sat on one of the mats next to the hearth. “Why?” he asked, glancing at Feng Xin then at the chickens. “Why are you doing all this work? This place provides for us.” 

Feng Xin pursed his lips in. “‘Why?’” he repeated. “Ugh, I was so sick of eating plain rice congee everyday, that’s why. Besides, this is hardly ‘work.’”

Mu Qing was still confused. “I don’t understand,” he said. “If you don’t have to do it, then why are you doing it? There was nothing wrong with the rice congee, was there? Why do all… this?” 

Feng Xin cocked a hip out to the side and tilted his head. “Mu Qing, I’m not cooking because there was something bad with the congee. I’m cooking because I enjoy it. People are allowed to do things for the simple enjoyment of it, you know.” 

Mu Qing blushed and looked away towards the chickens. “I didn’t know you liked to cook,” he mumbled. 

Feng Xin shrugged and waved a hand. “Eh, I’m nowhere near as good as your mother was, but I’m not bad. I had to learn when—ahem. I’m usually alone, so it’s not like I have anyone to cook for me. I think—I think it’s more fun when I have someone else to cook for. Besides, it’s not like I have much to do around here, anyway.” 

Mu Qing stared at Feng Xin’s back, at the way his muscles rolled under his skin as he cooked. Usually alone… that was right. Everyone Feng Xin had loved had chased him off right after Xianle fell, so of course Feng Xin spent all those years by himself and had to learn how to cook for himself before he ascended. And, even after his ascension, Feng Xin spent all his time alone in the mortal realm and had only returned to heaven once Xie Lian did. 

It was obvious this was not an experience Feng Xin wanted to discuss, so Mu Qing cleared his throat and said, “you remember my mother’s cooking?” 

“Are you kidding?” Feng Xin said. He pulled whatever he was cooking off the stove before bringing two plates over to Mu Qing at the hearth. “It was the first time His Highness and I tried tofu pudding. I can never forget that.” 

Mu Qing smiled to himself at the memory. He had been maybe fifteen or sixteen years old at the time, and Xie Lian and Feng Xin ‘discreetly’ followed Mu Qing home. At the time, Xie Lian had been quite incapable of being discreet, so he just laughed shyly and accepted when Mu Qing’s mother invited them in for pudding. Mu Qing had been absolutely mortified and furious; the Crown Prince and his bodyguard, in his one-room house with holes in the roof, talking to his mother with nothing but respect even though her hands shook and her veins were visible through her pale skin? 

It was not a memory Mu Qing could easily forget, either, but not for the tofu pudding.

Feng Xin handed Mu Qing a plate of fried bread and soy milk before he settled himself down with a groan. Mu Qing pulled the bread apart and dipped it in the milk, aware of Feng Xin’s puppyish gaze on him. 

“It’s good,” said Mu Qing after he swallowed. Feng Xin lit up with a smile, stuffing his red cheeks full of fried bread. “Where did you get all the stuff to make this, anyway?” 

Feng Xin tilted his head. “Hmm? Everything we want kind of just shows up here. Don’t tell me… you didn’t know? I mean, it was boring as fuck when I first arrived here… or maybe it just works for me?” 

“No,” said Mu Qing, thinking back to the jasmine soaps and oils that the house started stocking after he wished for it. “I knew. I just… I don’t know. It never occurred to me to want anything.” 

Feng Xin blinked at him. “What do you mean?” 

Mu Qing shrugged. Even after he discovered the bizarre yet useful quirk this domain had, he never considered asking for anything or allowed himself to want anything. He had a sturdy roof over his head, a clean mat to sleep on, and food to eat everyday. Sure, the silence had driven him mad and the once barren state of the (now cozily furnished) house made it impossible to stay in. The mat had been uncomfortable and hurt his shoulders and spine. The rice congee and tea were bland and watery. He grew up and lived through far worse, though, so even having such plain things was more than enough to keep him happy. 

“It was enough,” Mu Qing explained. “So I didn’t consider the fact that I could have more.” 

Feng Xin stared at him. “You— fuck. You deserve comfort, Mu Qing. You don’t have to force yourself to be happy with the bare minimum anymore, you know.” 

Mu Qing awkwardly cleared his throat. If Feng Xin’s time alone was something he did not want to thing about, then Mu Qing’s youth in poverty was his equivalent. He glanced towards the chickens on the porch, and Feng Xin followed his gaze. 

“What did you name them?” Mu Qing asked. 

“Ah,” said Feng Xin with a mischievous smirk. “Orange, Sesame, Firecracker, and Kung Pao.” 

“You awful man,” said Mu Qing, hiding his smile behind his hand. “Did you seriously name them all after foods?” 

Feng Xin stared at Mu Qing, his eyes crinkling at the corners fondly. “You shouldn’t hide your smile,” he said softly. “I think—I think it’s really pretty.” 

Mu Qing’s eyes went wide, his cheeks flooding with heat. The compliment was so unexpected that it sent his heart plunging off a cliff, and he could feel a dopey smile threaten to overtake his face. After a second he stopped fighting it, and he slowly let his hand drop. 

Feng Xin leaned forward imperceptibly. After a second his cheeks flushed a furious red, his eyes going wide. He cleared his throat, abruptly standing up and taking their dishes. 

“Why don’t you—why don’t you go up to the hot spring and take a bath?” he suggested, voice tight. “I’ll clean up down here.” 

Mu Qing startled, his smile dropping. “Oh. Okay. Are you… sure?” 

Feng Xin waved a hand at him and nodded. “Go ahead.” 

Truth be told, Mu Qing did not want to take a bath right now. He had just taken one last night. However, Feng Xin was acting strange and seemed to want alone time, so Mu Qing decided to spare him and started the short trek up to the hot spring. 

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆

“Is there a reason why you don’t want to have sex with me?” 

Mu Qing did not choke, but it was a near thing. “…What?!” 

They were in their bedroom. Feng Xin was lying on his side on the bed, his back to Mu Qing. Mu Qing sat at the vanity, combing his hair before bed. They’d been sitting in silence since Mu Qing came back down from the hot spring that night; Mu Qing had assumed Feng Xin was asleep like usual, so he had not said anything to him upon return. 

“I know you’ve got your vows,” said Feng Xin, clearly not asleep. “I respect it, of course I do, but—look, I know you’ve broken them, and I-I gotta be honest, I’m a little hurt that you detest the idea of sex with me so much that you’d break your vows with a dildo of all things—“ 

This time Mu Qing really did choke, effectively cutting off Feng Xin’s ramble. He whipped around in his seat to glare at Feng Xin. “What the fuck are you talking about?! Are you—are you fucking serious?!” 

Feng Xin was tense on the bed, his shoulders hunched up to his ears. “Forget it,” he said, grabbing a blanket and tugging it up over his head. “I didn’t—I was just talking in my sleep. Mimimi!” 

As adorable as Feng Xin faking sleep was, Mu Qing could not find it in himself to be enamored by it. He gave an offended gasp, and he set his hairbrush down before he yanked the blanket off Feng Xin entirely. 

“Don’t try to fucking hide right now, asshole!” Mu Qing yelled. “What the hell makes you think I’ve broken my vows with a dildo of all things?! Are you out of your fucking mind?!” 

“Ugh!” groaned Feng Xin, glaring at Mu Qing in response to his blanket being ripped away. “Come on, I’m not stupid. I’ve seen all the dildos this place has. I’m not requesting them, and they only appear in areas you frequent. Who else could they be coming from?” 

Mu Qing’s jaw dropped in complete outrage. “Oh, you bitch! Just because they appear there doesn’t mean I fucking use them!” he shouted, gesturing angrily at Feng Xin. “Why’s any of your business, anyway?! I don’t go around pointing out your sudden proclivity for grapefruits!” 

Feng Xin went slack jawed, his angry expression disappearing into embarrassment. “What?! I have no idea what you’re talking about!” he lied, and badly at that. 

Mu Qing stomped over to the bed, grabbed a pillow, and whacked Feng Xin in the face with it. “Don’t you dare act coy now!” 

“F-fuck!” said Feng Xin, batting Mu Qing and the pillow away. “How was I supposed to know that you fucking knew what they were for?!” 

“I’ve been alive for almost nine hundred years!” said Mu Qing. “I’m fucking celibate, not stupid!” 

“Ahh, stop! That’s so fucking embarrassing!” said Feng Xin. “I think I’m going to die! I’ll die!” 

He grabbed a pillow and held it over his face, flopping over onto his side once more. He hugged the pillow tight as he curled up into the fetal position, as if that could help save him from his embarrassment. Mu Qing decided to be kind this once and did not force Feng Xin out of his hiding spot this time; Feng Xin was simultaneously proud and shy, so he was far more sensitive to embarrassment than he let on. 

“It’s only embarrassing when someone corners you about it, huh? Maybe next time fucking think twice before you go around questioning someone’s masturbatory habits,” Mu Qing grumbled, climbing over Feng Xin to his side of the bed. “What the fuck were you thinking?” 

Feng Xin sniffed. “I just—do you truly hate the thought of having sex with me so much that you’d rather use toys and spend the rest of our lives here?” he quietly asked. “I mean, it doesn’t even have to mean anything if you don’t want it to. It’s just to get us out of here, right?” 

“What?” said Mu Qing, perplexed as to why Feng Xin kept mentioning the fucking dildos. “Enough. I already told you, my vows—“

“But I heard you,” insisted Feng Xin. 

Mu Qing narrowed his eyes dangerously. “You’ve heard me do what, exactly?”

Feng Xin somehow became even more tense than he already was. “Last night,” he grit out, his voice strained. “When you were bathing in the hot spring. It had been a while since you went up so I came to see when you’d come to bed, and I—you moaned.” 

Mu Qing took an extremely deep breath and counted to five hundred in his head, knowing the exact moment Feng Xin was talking about. He tossed their blankets aside and threw his leg over Feng Xin’s waist, wiggling his toes to get Feng Xin to pull his head out of his arms. 

“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but it’s quite dark outside while it’s nighttime,” said Mu Qing, twisting his foot to show off the rather long gash on his ankle. “In fact, it’s so dark that one may accidentally injure themselves on the wet stones. One may, understandably, react to such an injury with a noise of pain.” 

Feng Xin blinked at his injured ankle with a stupefied expression. “Oh….” 

“Yeah, fucking oh!” said Mu Qing, resisting the urge to kick Feng Xin upside the head. 

Feng Xin twisted around so face Mu Qing. “Why have you been walking around with that uncovered, anyway?” he scolded with a click of his tongue. “You should know better.” 

Mu Qing rolled his eyes. “Pardon me. I thought you were fast asleep in bed and didn’t want to wake you by struggling to find bandages in the dark. Little did I know you’d been up all night spying on me.” 

“I wasn’t spying!” Feng Xin denied before signing. “Just… fucking wait here so I can take care of it for you.”

Mu Qing thought it was pointless, but sat still while Feng Xin retrieved first aid supplies from the main room. He sat back down on the bed across from Mu Qing, pulling Mu Qing’s injured ankle into his lap. 

“You should really stop bathing in the dark if you’re getting hurt,” Feng Xin said as he wrapped Mu Qing’s ankle with bandages. 

“Hmph,” huffed Mu Qing indignantly. “Well, I used to bathe in the day when I could see, but I have a roommate now.” 

Feng Xin shot him a guilty look. “Right. Uh… sorry about all… that, by the way. You’re right, it’s none of my business who you do and don’t have sex with, and—“ 

“No,” Mu Qing cut him off with a tired sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re right.”

He was loath to admit it, but Feng Xin was right for once. Having sex to get out of here was the only course of action. Mu Qing had been selfishly forcing Feng Xin to stay here just because he was afraid of confronting the truth, and—if he had to admit it—he was enjoying it. Even though he and Feng Xin hadn’t fallen asleep cuddled up against each other since that first night, Mu Qing had never slept so well in his entire life. Being forced into such close proximity with the man he’d been in love with his entire life with no one around… it was a thing of fairy tales. Mu Qing had been blissfully and ignorantly enjoying it. To him, everything worth living for was currently inside the domain with him; to Feng Xin, it was all outside. 

He could never hope to keep Feng Xin here forever; that was akin to putting a lion in a dog kennel. 

Mu Qing ran a hand through his hair and looked down at his lap. “You’re right,” he repeated. “Having sex is the only way out of here, so if you want to leave, then we’ll have to—you know—with each other. But I… I don’t want it to mean nothing. I mean, it’s a big thing to give up my virginity and eight hundred years of cultivation. It’s not ‘nothing.’” 

“Oh,” said Feng Xin quietly. “So if it… if it meant something, would you have sex with me?”

Mu Qing slowly lifted his gaze, his heart beating nauseatingly fast. “What are you trying to say?” 

Feng Xin met Mu Qing’s eyes with cheeks redder than anything Mu Qing had ever seen and a fiery determination. “I mean I want it to mean something,” he said. “I—I thought it would freak you out if it was more than just sex to get out of here, but I—I’d really like to have sex with you and have it mean something.” 

Mu Qing pressed his lips together to avoid frowning. He closed his eyes, the sickening hammer of hope in his heart finally hitting the nail of reality straight on the head. “Don’t fucking say things you don’t mean,” he hissed around an aching throat, his stomach in knots. “It’s not funny.” 

“No, I mean it, Mu Qing,” said Feng Xin. “Even before we got stuck in this stupid fucking place, I wanted you. You’re seriously all I can think about.” 

“That’s enough,” refuted Mu Qing vehemently, his eyes stinging. “I understand that you want to leave this place, but you seriously don’t have to lie to me just to get me to have sex with you!” 

“What?! No! I’m not—fuck!” Feng Xin said desperately, shuffling closer. “Can you stop believing the worst of me for once? You know me. You know I would never lie about this, right? Come on, you have to believe me.” 

Mu Qing glared wetly at him. He did believe Feng Xin to some degree—he was too honest to weave a good lie, so everything he said carried parts of the truth if not the whole truth. If Feng Xin was saying he felt this way about Mu Qing, then it was because he really did feel some kind of affection for Mu Qing. 

That was the problem, though, wasn’t it? Mu Qing knew exactly how Feng Xin felt about women. Even if he wasn’t a woman, he still had the body of one. How could he ever expect Feng Xin to be able to properly fall in love with him? How was he supposed to divulge such an intimate secret knowing it would ruin everything he had worked so hard for? 

“Fuck,” Feng Xin continued, taking Mu Qing’s silence for rejection. “Look, I know it seems like it’s out of the blue, but I really do—um, you know, l-like you. I care about you a lot, okay? You’re my friend, even if you like to pretend you’re not. And I—I want to be more than friends and I’d be really happy if you wanted to be more than friends, but I’d be just as content spending the rest of my life next to you like this, if you let me.” 

Mu Qing pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, his head and heart battling painfully. “Why are you telling me all this now?” he asked. “How am I supposed to believe you when you’ve never said anything about this before?” 

Feng Xin made a mildly irritated noise—though for once, it was not directed at Mu Qing. “I was afraid,” he admitted. “I’d… I’d done some really cruel things to you. I never even thought you’d want to acknowledge my existence, let alone be my friend. Having you as a friend is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. I don’t want to ruin that or sacrifice that for anything, least of all my feelings.” 

Mu Qing’s lip wobbled pathetically. “You’re actually serious?” 

“Of course I am,” said Feng Xin. “But if you don’t feel the same way, then we can just… pretend this didn’t happen. I meant it when I said I’d much rather have you like this than not have you at all. Having you even speak to me is more than I deserve.”

Mu Qing could barely think through the symphony of his pulse in his ears. His entire body was shaking, and he rubbed his hands on his robes to clear the sweat off. 

“Okay,” he finally muttered. “I… I would be amenable.” 

Feng Xin’s brows furrowed. “Sorry… amenable to what, exactly?” 

“Ugh,” pouted Mu Qing. “Don’t make me say it.” 

Feng Xin had a tiny, miserable frown on his face. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t understand—you want to… move on? I—“ 

“For fuck’s sake!” interrupted Mu Qing. “I would be amenable to having sex with you! I would be amenable to loving you!” 

Feng Xin’s jaw dropped. He stared at Mu Qing with wide eyes, his face tentatively brightening up as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to celebrate yet. “Are you sure? I mean, you’re not just doing this for my sake, are you?” 

“Shut up!” said Mu Qing, kicking Feng Xin in the shin. “Stop being so fucking timorous already! I already told you that I want you. Do I have to beg you to believe me, as well?!” 

“Well, if you’re offering, begging would be kind of hot—“ 

Mu Qing smothered Feng Xin with a pillow, and Feng Xin’s delighted laughter was loud even while muffled. Mu Qing gave up with a laugh of his own and plopped down a moment later, his chest feeling lighter than it had in centuries despite the anxiety swirling inside of him. 

“So,” Feng Xin said, wiggling closer to him. He had an excited grin on his face, his eyes bright. “Does this mean… we can have sex?”

Mu Qing turned to look at him, melting at Feng Xin’s infectious joy. He gave a short nod. “I just—I think I need some time,” he explained. “There’s… there’s something I need to tell you, but I’m not ready to yet. It’s not because of you, I just… I’m not ready.”

Fuck. If Feng Xin actually liked him, how the fuck was Mu Qing ever supposed to admit he’d been deceiving him this entire him? 

Feng Xin rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow as he screamed, his legs kicking in the air. He pulled his face out of the pillow with a smile. “Take all the time you need!” he said. “We don’t—we don’t even have to have sex! I don’t care! I’m just so fucking happy that you like me—am I allowed to touch you now? I mean, not sexually, but can I hug you?” 

Mu Qing blushed and lifted his shoulders in a faux-blasé shrug. “If that’s what you really want to do.” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Mu Qing thought about it before shaking his head slightly. If he allowed himself the chance to kiss Feng Xin only for Feng Xin to decide he hated him once he found out the truth—no, it would be too cruel to them both. “…Not yet.” 

Despite the rejection, Feng Xin was still smiling. “Fuck. Fuck, okay. Can I… can I court you?” 

“You want to court me?” Mu Qing asked incredulously. “Why? You already did all… this. What’s the point?” 

“I have to do it right!” Feng Xin insisted. “If we’re going to have sex then I want you to understand how much I lo— like you. You’re so fucking thick headed that I want you to know it before we have sex, if we ever have sex. Okay? Can you just allow me this?” 

“I think it’s stupid,” said Mu Qing, unable to keep his opinion to himself. “I mean, it’s just us.” 

“You would like it though, wouldn’t you?” Feng Xin asked. “You’ve never been courted before, at least not to my knowledge, and I know how much you like those romance stories you always read. Besides, I want to show you exactly how I feel about you. I want to show you why breaking your vows with me won’t be a mistake. I want to show you that I can be k-kind, too. Aren’t even people like us allowed to have such a simple thing?” 

Feng Xin was correct. As aloof as Mu Qing was, even he got butterflies at the prospect of being properly courted like he was one of the maidens in the romance novels he loved reading. He wanted it; he wanted it so fucking bad he had to bite his lip until it bled to keep himself from immediately accepting Feng Xin’s proposal. 

He had to think logically about this. He was like an octopus with a different problem in each tentacle: in tentacle one, the requirements of escaping the domain. In tentacle two, Feng Xin’s feelings for Mu Qing. In tentacle three, Mu Qing’s feelings for Feng Xin. In tentacle four, Mu Qing’s lack of a penis. In tentacle five, Feng Xin’s aversion to those with vaginas. The sixth, seventh, and eighth tentacles held nothing, but Mu Qing was certain they’d be occupied with a problem soon enough. 

There was one simple solution to this, of course. Mu Qing could tell Feng Xin the truth before things got out of hand. If Feng Xin knew now, then he could decide whether or not he properly wanted to ‘court’ and have sex with Mu Qing after all. If Feng Xin decided that it was a dealbreaker, then they could stop the whole thing before it even started. 

It would hurt, of course it would, to have something Mu Qing has wanted his entire life ripped away from him for something he couldn’t control. However, any pain he’d feel from it now would be nothing compared to the pain he’d feel in the future if he already got a taste of Feng Xin’s affection. 

It was just… how the fuck was Mu Qing supposed to admit such a private thing out loud? He never thought he’d even have to tell someone such a thing because of his vows. Nobody even knew anymore. The last person who knew died eight hundred years ago, and only Xie Lian remained—but Xie Lian had most likely forgotten at this point, too, and Mu Qing honestly didn’t think Xie Lian ever understood it in the first place. 

“I… shit,” Mu Qing said, covering his face in his hands as if that could help him collect his thoughts. 

“Hey, you don’t have to answer now,” said Feng Xin soothingly. “Don’t overthink it, ‘kay? You can always say no at any time to anything. I won’t—okay, I’ll be upset, but not at you.” 

He ignored Feng Xin as he considered his options. 

One: he could tell Feng Xin right now, putting a stop to all of this before it got started. 

Two: he could allow Feng Xin to ‘court’ him. It seemed counterproductive, but it would allow Feng Xin to see that Mu Qing really was unlovable. His feelings born of proximity and a sex-requiring curse would disappear after a week, and Xie Lian and Hua Cheng would eventually track them down and free them. In fact, they were probably already on their way to rescue them. Mu Qing would never have to tell Feng Xin his secret. 

Option two would also innocently allow Mu Qing to experience what it would be like to be genuinely wanted for the first and only time in his life, but that was beside the point. Obviously, two was the best choice from a logical standpoint.  

“You can… court me,” Mu Qing finally said. “Just… go slow. No—no sexual touching or kissing.” 

“Okay,” said Feng Xin with a giddy grin. “Okay. That’s more than good enough for me.” 

Mu Qing didn’t know what to say in response to that, and Feng Xin saved him the awkwardness by blowing out the candle as he settled the blankets around them. They laid down side by side, backs to each other. After a minute, Feng Xin flipped over and pulled Mu Qing against his chest, one arm wrapped under Mu Qing’s arm to sit snugly against his chest while he arranged his other arm under Mu Qing’s head. 

“Is this okay?” Feng Xin whispered quietly. Mu Qing could feel the rabbit-fast beat of his heart against his back. 

Mu Qing brought his hand up to intertwine their fingers together. It was an inverse version of the embrace they shared when Feng Xin first arrived; it felt wrong to accept and enjoy such an earnest and intimate touch when Mu Qing was lying to get it, but—it would be okay if he allowed himself the chance to know what it was like to be loved, right? Even if it was fake, even if it was temporary, even if it was built on a lie—even he deserved to know what it felt like, didn’t he? 

“Yes,” Mu Qing replied, holding Feng Xin tightly as if that could stop him from slipping through his fingers. 

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆

There was a thick mist late that evening when Mu Qing finally finished sewing Feng Xin’s new robes. He held them up proudly as he admired his work. They were plain black and terribly simple, but they looked quite excellent considering what Mu Qing had to work with. 

The hearth was lit next to him, crackling softly as the flames popped and died. The door was propped all the way open to allow the fresh air into the house. Heavy clouds curled around the tops of the trees and settled low amongst the star jasmine. The pastel outlines of the mountains in the far distance were watery and thin like the sumi ink paintings that hung on the walls. The scent and electric feel of an impending storm was thick in the air. 

For the past week, Feng Xin had been outside hammering and sawing at a workbench that had appeared next to the house the night after their… discussion. Mu Qing had been forbidden from seeing what he was working on, and today he’d been forbidden entirely from leaving the house while Feng Xin set up the ‘surprise.’ He was to wait here until Feng Xin came to collect him, and Mu Qing was starting to get antsy now that it was getting so late. 

Feng Xin had… changed since that night a week ago. He became far clingier than he’d ever been, but it wasn’t necessarily just physically. Wherever Mu Qing was, Feng Xin was also there. When Mu Qing was inside the house reading or sewing, Feng Xin would slide the doors all the way open and lay in the sun on the porch. When Mu Qing was outside wandering the gardens trying to find any sort of exercise, Feng Xin and his chickens would trail after him like dutiful guards. The only times they weren’t revolving around each other was when they were bathing or when Feng Xin was building his ‘surprise.’

Of course, that didn’t mean Feng Xin didn’t touch Mu Qing. He would casually place a hand on Mu Qing’s back while walking past him, or he’d deliberately brush their hands together whenever they came near. Hugs became second nature and they fell asleep in each other’s arms every single night. In the mornings, Feng Xin was no longer up and out of bed, but instead stayed in bed and played with Mu Qing’s hair until he woke up. 

What was most surprising, however, was how… thoughtful and flirtatious Feng Xin was being. He’d always been an attentive person, but now that he no longer had to be reserved in his affection and could express it, it increased tenfold. He cooked breakfast and dinner everyday when he didn’t need to, somehow always having the exact ingredients he needed. He walked Mu Qing up to the hot spring and waited for him at the bottom of the path. It was a little overwhelming to be the subject of such adoration and care when he’d never done anything to deserve it. 

Mu Qing stretched his arms and legs out in front of him with a groan, wondering how much longer it would take Feng Xin to come back inside. It was getting late now, the waxy blue evening melting away as a blanket of stars fell over the sky. 

There was a light knock on the door just as Mu Qing was starting to doze off, and Mu Qing rolled over to see Feng Xin standing in the open doorway of the home. He was wearing nothing but his absurdly thin lounge pants like always, his thick hair pulled into a messy bun. He was sweaty even in this cool weather, the veins in his muscles bulging from all the physical activity he’d been doing. Feng Xin was staring at Mu Qing with a soft smile, and Mu Qing could do nothing but return it as he set aside the robes and sat up. 

“Feng Xin?” he yawned. “It’s late. Won’t you come to bed soon?” 

“Mu Qing,” Feng Xin said adoringly, as if he had forgotten Mu Qing was the only other person here and was delighted to see him. He came forward to touch the tip of his nose to Mu Qing’s like they were cats greeting each other, and Mu Qing flushed before turning away. 

The first time Feng Xin touched their noses together, Mu Qing had flinched so violently he hit his head on the wall behind the bed. Feng Xin had laughed and teased him, saying Mu Qing was like a feral cat who jumped at every touch. Mu Qing had blushed and stuttered, defending himself by saying that no one had ever gotten close enough to his face to be able to touch him in such a way, and Feng Xin’s smile turned a little more sad at that. Since then, he’d been making it a point to greet Mu Qing with soft touches every time they saw each other or came close—even if Feng Xin had already seen and ‘greeted’ Mu Qing a thousand times that day. 

“It’s ready,” whispered Feng Xin, nearly vibrating out of his skin in his excitement. “Would you like to come see?” 

Mu Qing stood, brushing off his robes as he helped pull Feng Xin to his feet. Feng Xin offered him his arm as they left the house, and Mu Qing blushed before taking it. Before, he might’ve scolded and hit Feng Xin for such a thing. How dare Feng Xin imply that Mu Qing was a helpless maiden who needed assistance just walking? Mu Qing was more than capable of taking care of himself, and he didn’t care for such a useless and patronizing gesture. 

Now, he could see Feng Xin’s action for what it really was: affection. It was such a bizarre feeling to finally have the lights switched on after eight hundred years to see that the starving tiger trapped in the room with him had been nothing but a harmless rabbit all along. 

Feng Xin led Mu Qing over the bridge and through the garden until they came to the path to the hot spring, watching Mu Qing’s face for his reaction with a giddy smile. 

“Wow,” said Mu Qing, glancing up the path. “You… you did all this?” 

Feng Xin smiled at him and nodded. He had taken all of the discarded bamboo baskets Mu Qing wove when he first got here and turned them into lanterns. Pillars had been erected along the path, and the lanterns hung between the pillars on a string. The lanterns swayed in the cool breeze while red leaves fell from the trees. Mu Qing squeezed Feng Xin’s arm as they climbed the now-illuminated stairs, and Feng Xin gave a happy little hum. When they finally made it up to the hot spring, Feng Xin held open the curtain of the wisteria branches to guide Mu Qing under its canopy, and Mu Qing’s breath was taken from him in his shock. 

The hot spring had always been gorgeous, what with the massive wisteria and the clear blue water. Now, handmade paper lanterns hung from the branches of the wisteria while candles lined the rocks around the pool. The lights strung up under the branches of the wisteria caused the flowers to glow and twinkle like fireflies. A bamboo partition surrounded the pool, giving it even more privacy under the floral umbrella of the wisteria. Petals from the wisteria floated on the shimmering, glasslike surface of the pool. A daybed with a silky curtain canopy sat next to the pool, complete with plush pillows and blankets. Thick rugs covered the ground between the daybed and the pool. 

Mu Qing was speechless. There was nothing he could say to truly encapsulate how he felt at that moment, so he didn’t say anything at all. 

Feng Xin took his silence the wrong way, and Mu Qing could almost feel the anxiety coming off of him. “I know how much you liked your baths,” he explained. “I know it’s not as fancy as what you had back home, but at least you can take baths in the day or night without cutting yourself again.” 

Feng Xin was wrong. What he had done here was far better than anything Mu Qing had back home. He had cut and stolen a piece out of the sky just so Mu Qing could safely take baths. How could anything else in the world ever compare to such a gift? Mu Qing just gave Feng Xin an infatuated look, not knowing how to express all the love he felt for him in that moment. 

“It’s beautiful,” Mu Qing said honestly. “You didn’t have to do all this, though. I brought candles with me last time. Wasn’t that enough?”  

Feng Xin clicked his tongue at him disapprovingly, a blush high on his cheeks. “Of course not,” he said. “You were here first. You shouldn’t have to tiptoe around it when it’s yours, right? Besides, I really don’t think you should be wandering around in the dark. It’s safer this way.”  

“It’s yours as much as it is mine,” Mu Qing pointed out. “I don’t own it and it’s a domain meant for two people.”  

“You have got to work on expressing your gratitude better,” said Feng Xin with a roll of his eyes.  “Here, I’ll help you. Repeat after me: ‘thank you, A’Xin, you’re so helpful—‘“ 

“Enough of that,” said Mu Qing, smacking Feng Xin playfully. “I just don’t get why you spent so much time making all of this. It would’ve just manifested itself if you wanted it, you know.” 

Feng Xin cringed very exaggeratedly. “Ugh, you’re so unromantic. How am I supposed to prove that I can take care of you if you won’t let me build you things?” 

“But we’re immortal now,” Mu Qing said a bit helplessly. “When would you have to take care of me?” 

Feng Xin very gently placed a hand on Mu Qing’s shoulder. He brushed a piece of hair behind Mu Qing’s ear, giving him a tender smile before he shook Mu Qing by the shoulder. “Be a little more imaginative!” he said. “Can’t I simply want to take care of you? Have you ever considered that?” 

“Oh,” said Mu Qing. He gave a stiff nod, his cheeks heating up as he pulled Feng Xin into a tight hug. He squeezed his eyes shut, burying his face in Feng Xin’s neck. He felt sick with everything he felt for Feng Xin, his palms sweaty and and head dizzy. “Thank you, A’Xin.” 

Feng Xin choked violently, dislodging Mu Qing. “Agh, fuck!” he coughed. “You can’t just say that!” 

“You’re the one who told me to!” 

“I know, but I didn’t think you would!” 

Mu Qing shoved him away. “Ugh, you ruined the moment. Go take a bath. You’re all sweaty.”

“You like it when I’m sweaty,” retorted Feng Xin. “I can’t take a bath yet, anyway. I didn’t bring any clean clothes up here with me.” 

An idea sparked in Mu Qing’s head, and he folded his hands in a mock display of innocence. “Take a bath,” he repeated. “I’ll go fetch some clean clothes for you.” 

Feng Xin lifted an eyebrow at him, but nodded and disappeared behind the bamboo partition to bathe. Mu Qing raced down the path to the house, fetching the robes he’d been working on for so long before running back to the hot spring. His heart was pounding the entire way, but not because of the physical activity; no, it was because of a tight spiral of emotion fighting its way through his rib cage. Anxiety, excitement, happiness, fear—but, most of all, the light and sticky feeling of being seen. 

Mu Qing had been afraid of being seen from the very moment he realized he could be perceived. The idea of someone knowing him and loving him was too outrageous to consider, so Mu Qing never allowed being known by others a possibility. Eventually people stopped trying; he was closed-off and standoffish, not worth getting to know. 

Feng Xin had spent over eight hundred years trying to prove to Mu Qing that this wasn’t true, and Mu Qing just now realized it. Feng Xin had always seen, known, and loved Mu Qing. He could recognize Mu Qing by his breaths, by the fall of his foot against the earth, by his shadow at the end of the world. Even when they had been at each other’s throats and fighting, Mu Qing had been known. 

He was out of breath by the time he reached the hot spring again, and he pushed aside the wisteria branches to enter the little sanctuary Feng Xin had created. He was sitting on the daybed, a towel in his lap to preserve his decency. The towel did very little to hide Ju Yang, and even though Mu Qing had become quite acquainted with the sight of Feng Xin’s dick outlined in his clothes, it still made him blush—especially now that he knew what was coming. 

He carefully presented the robes to Feng Xin. Feng Xin reached out to take them as if Mu Qing was handing him a baby bird instead of clothing, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

“These—these are the robes you’ve been working on,” he intelligently pointed out. 

Mu Qing bit his lip to stop a smile from spreading and gave a short nod. 

“You… you made these for me?” 

Mu Qing gave another nod. 

“O-oh,” said Feng Xin, hugging the robes close with tear-filled eyes. 

Mu Qing knew Feng Xin was flustered, so he did not take the reaction offensively. Instead, he cleared his throat and cocked his hip to the side, making his voice obnoxiously high pitched the same way Feng Xin had earlier that night. “‘Thank you, Qing’er, you’re so helpful,’” he mocked. 

Feng Xin smiled at him, leaning up so he could touch their noses together. “Thank you, Qing’er,” he said, not a trace of sarcasm in his voice as he held the rather plain robes reverentially. “I love y— them. Thank you.” 

It was obvious what Feng Xin had truly been about to say, but Mu Qing didn’t press for it. Feng Xin would say it for real when he was ready, and Mu Qing would wait until then. For now, Mu Qing brushed some of Feng Xin’s hair behind his ear as Feng Xin leaned into the touch. 

“Wait here for me while I take a bath,” said Mu Qing. “I’ll brush your hair when I’m done.” 

Feng Xin’s eyes widened as he nodded dutifully. Mu Qing snorted and disappeared behind the bamboo partition. He shed his robes and sank down into the pool with a sigh. 

The water was always the perfect temperature, and no matter what kinds of soaps or oils Mu Qing dumped into the pool, it was always perfectly clean and clear. He washed himself quickly, massaging his muscles that ached from disuse. He hadn’t been getting as much exercise here as he was used to, and it showed in the softer skin around his thighs and tummy. He was still skinny and lean, but Mu Qing didn’t think he ever had this much fat on his body for as long as he’d been alive. It had gotten to the point where he could now feel his ass and thighs jiggle when he tossed his body around the way he was used to doing, so it was certainly something he would have to adapt to. 

He pulled himself out of the bath and loosely wrapped a towel around his hips, wringing the water out of his hair. The rugs from the pool to the daybed had seemed a bit strange at first, but when Mu Qing walked over to join Feng Xin on the daybed he realized what a nice touch it was that his bare and wet feet didn’t have to touch the dirt-covered ground. 

Feng Xin had finally stopped hugging his robes and was beginning to put them on by the time Mu Qing returned. He froze when he saw Mu Qing with nothing but a towel around his hips, his cheeks turning bright red. 

Mu Qing took the robes out of Feng Xin’s hands, folding them and setting them aside. “Don’t put those on yet,” he said, sitting on the daybed behind Feng Xin. 

“Huh?” said Feng Xin. “Why not?” 

“No reason,” lied Mu Qing, making grabby hands past Feng Xin. “Hand me that brush.”

Feng Xin passed it to him. “Aren’t you going to get dressed?” he asked squeakily. 

“Hmm,” said Mu Qing, passing the brush through Feng Xin’s hair. “No, not yet.” 

Feng Xin made a quiet noise of confusion, but did not press. After a moment he relaxed enough to lean back fully into Mu Qing, and if he was a cat Mu Qing was certain he’d be able to hear him purr. 

“Hey,” said Mu Qing as he arranged Feng Xin’s hair into a ponytail. “I need to tell you something.” 

“Mm,” hummed Feng Xin sleepily. “What is it?” 

Mu Qing took a deep breath, glad Feng Xin was not facing him. “Don’t freak out, okay? I—um, I wasn’t born male. I don’t have a—well, you know. I can… um… get pregnant,” he forced out with great difficulty. “Well, I technically can’t get pregnant anymore because I took out my reproductive organs, but—but you know what I mean.” 

Feng Xin froze in his arms before he turned around, his expression serious. “Oh,” he said. “Oh. You— oh.”

“I was going to tell you sooner,” whispered Mu Qing, ducking his head to hide behind his hair as he felt tears spring to his eyes. He wanted to crawl into Feng Xin’s arms for comfort like a pathetic child, but he didn’t know if that was allowed anymore. “I promise I was. I wasn’t trying to deceive you, I just—I know how you feel about women and I didn’t want you to—h-hate me again.” 

“Oh, Qing’er,” Feng Xin said softly. He seemed to have no qualms about touching Mu Qing, and he tenderly ran his hands up and down Mu Qing’s arms in a soothing motion. “Qing’er, I could never hate you, least of all over something like this.” 

“But—but—I’ve been lying to you this entire time. Don’t you hate me?” Mu Qing asked. He felt sick with nerves, anxiety scraping painfully down his spine and pooling in the crevices between his organs. “Aren’t you—aren’t you repulsed by me?” 

“When did you lie?” Feng Xin asked, a genuine note of confusion appearing on his face. “You’re still you, aren’t you? What does this change?” 

Mu Qing shook his head. “I know exactly how you feel about women,” he cried pitifully. “So you don’t—you don’t have to pretend to care about me anymore. You can just… just be normal about me.” 

“Qing’er, I’ve never been normal about you a day in my life, and I fear that’s not going to start now,” said Feng Xin. He reached out to pull one of Mu Qing’s hands into his own. When Mu Qing didn’t pull away, Feng Xin laced their fingers together. His touch was devastatingly warm, his hands somehow rough and smooth at the same time. 

“But I—I deceived you,” Mu Qing insisted mournfully. 

“You haven’t deceived me,” Feng Xin assured. “Sure, I don’t—I may have an aversion to women, but what’s that matter? You’re not a woman, are you?” 

“I—but I—I don’t—ugh,” Mu Qing stuttered desperately, trying to make Feng Xin see reason. “I still have the parts of one.” 

Feng Xin shook his head. “Mu Qing, that means nothing to me,” he said. “It changes nothing. You’re still you. You’re still a man.” 

“It… it doesn’t bother you?” Mu Qing weakly asked. 

Feng Xin tilted his head. “Why would it? My feelings for you are not so superficial that they’re dependent on your body or gender. You’re a man, and a masculine one at that. Nothing can change that, right? And, I mean, even if you were a woman—which you’re not— I would… I would still want you. Mu Qing, I don’t want you just to have sex with you. I want all of you, always.” 

“Oh,” said Mu Qing, a smile starting to dance on his lips. Tears clung to his eyelashes, making them sparkle under the lanterns. He squeezed Feng Xin’s hands without realizing it until Feng Xin squeezed back. “Okay. I-I’m yours, for as long as you’ll have me.” 

Feng Xin’s expression brightened, and it was not dissimilar to the way his dogs would smile and wag their tails upon seeing Mu Qing. One hand came to rest on Mu Qing’s waist, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into Mu Qing’s skin as the other held Mu Qing’s cheek. 

“Can I kiss you now?” Feng Xin asked, his breath ghosting over Mu Qing’s lips. 

Mu Qing nodded, pressing his cheek into Feng Xin’s hand. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, you can kiss me now.” 

The first brush of their lips was hesitant, gentle, and sweet. It sent a spark down his spine as he shivered, and Mu Qing could feel more than hear Feng Xin gasp against his lips. 

In the next second, Feng Xin descended upon him, pushing Mu Qing down until he was laying on his back on the bed. He straddled Mu Qing’s waist and grabbed his wrists to pin them above his head, his tongue eagerly licking into Mu Qing’s mouth without giving Mu Qing time to even process what was happening. 

Mu Qing gasped breathlessly into the kiss, his hips attempting to arch up but kept in place by Feng Xin’s weight. The towel Feng Xin had over his lap earlier to cover himself  had long since fallen away, and he could feel Feng Xin’s hard cock pressing into his belly where he was being straddled. Mu Qing felt a gush of slick as his pussy throbbed, and he turned his head away from Feng Xin’s mouth in an attempt to catch his breath. 

Feng Xin groaned, long and low. He moved one hand to Mu Qing’s jaw, grabbing his chin to force Mu Qing to turn his head back and open his mouth into the kiss. It was the hottest thing Mu Qing had ever experienced, and he whined incoherently into Feng Xin’s mouth as their lips and tongues slid together obscenely.  

“Fuck, Mu Qing,” said Feng Xin. He stopped licking into Mu Qing’s mouth to suck deep bruises into the column of his throat, biting down on the spot behind Mu Qing’s ear until Mu Qing was keening and hitting Feng Xin’s shoulders weakly. “Gods, I— fuck, I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.” 

“Oh, fuck,” Mu Qing moaned quietly, his heart fluttering violently. Feng Xin descended until he was face to face with Mu Qing’s chest. He’d always been naturally small chested and as he got older and worked out more it appeared as if he had the natural chest of a born male, and now Feng Xin grabbed both sides of Mu Qing’s chest and squeezed. Mu Qing let out an embarrassingly loud noise, having just now learned how sensitive his chest was. “Fuck! Yes! Yes, please, please, A’Xin—!” he begged. 

Feng Xin’s mouth latched around a nipple as he kneaded Mu Qing’s chest. His hands were like a searing iron brand as his fingers dipped into Mu Qing’s clavicles and smoothed over his shoulders. Mu Qing’s pale chest was an abused and puffy red, his nipples swollen and shiny with spit. Mu Qing was helpless to do anything but tremble and whimper in Feng Xin’s hands, his back arching and moans spilling out of his mouth when Feng Xin switched his sides to make sure both of Mu Qing’s tits were puffy and bruised. Mu Qing cried out when Feng Xin bit down on a nipple lightly, his hands coming up to hug Feng Xin’s head and shoulders. Feng Xin just laughed, the vibrations and soft puffs of his breath making Mu Qing shiver violently. 

“So sensitive,” Feng Xin whispered into his skin. “You’ve really never even touched yourself? Never even had an orgasm?” 

Mu Qing violently shook his head. “No, no, never—only wanted you, only you,” he babbled nonsensically. “I wanted to, but—not without you.”

Feng Xin’s breath hitched, and he dropped his forehead onto Mu Qing’s chest as he groaned. His hips were rolling into Mu Qing’s, and Mu Qing could feel pre-cum drip from Feng Xin’s cock onto his sweaty belly. It made his cunt burn with arousal, and Mu Qing once again tried to arch his hips up to meet Feng Xin’s. 

“Fuck,” said Feng Xin, his voice deep and raspy. “Fuck, Mu Qing, I want you so bad—I don’t think I’ll be able to stop if we don’t—fuck!”

Mu Qing had cut him off by grabbing Feng Xin’s ponytail to pull his head up, lifting a hand to guide Feng Xin’s face back into a kiss. He nibbled at Feng Xin’s lips, feeling a spark of pleasure and satisfaction when Feng Xin whined into his mouth. 

“I don’t want you to stop,” said Mu Qing. “I want you to fuck me.” 

Feng Xin nodded desperately. His face was red and his pupils were blown so wide his irises were no longer visible. His lips were swollen and shiny with spit, and Mu Qing could feel nothing but pride over the fact that he was the one to have reduced Feng Xin to this. His hands were shaking so badly as he undid the towel around Mu Qing’s waist that Mu Qing was surprised he even managed it, Feng Xin’s face going impossibly more red. He grabbed Mu Qing’s knees to snap his legs open, leaving his glistening cunt bare to the air. His inner thighs were wet with slick, and Mu Qing groaned in embarrassment and lifted his hands to hide his face. 

Feng Xin pulled his hands away from his face, kissing him deeply. “Don’t hide, Qing’er,” he said. “You’re beautiful.” 

“It’s embarrassing,” Mu Qing whined, glaring pathetically at Feng Xin. 

Feng Xin sat back on his calves, settled between Mu Qing’s legs. His muscles were bulging and slick with sweat again even though he had just bathed, and his cock— oh, gods. The dusting of hair on Feng Xin’s thighs and chest got darker and coarser the closer it got to his cock, and he felt boiling blood rush to his cunt at the sight of Ju Yang. 

Mu Qing had never seen a cock in real life before, but Feng Xin was positively hung. His cock was thick and long, blushing deep red at the head while veins popped along the shaft. The fact that this was Feng Xin’s natural form, him in all his wonderful and beautiful and masculine glory—it was almost enough to make Mu Qing cum right then and there. He couldn’t believe that he was the one who got to experience this. 

Feng Xin was staring at Mu Qing’s cunt hungrily. Not moving, not touching, just staring with a dark and predatory look in his eyes. Mu Qing shivered uncomfortably and attempted to close his legs, but Feng Xin held them open. 

“Having second thoughts?” Mu Qing quietly asked, feeling a spike of fear. 

Feng Xin’s eyes flicked up to Mu Qing’s, and in the next second Mu Qing was being kissed. “No, never,” he answered. “I was just trying to figure out how I should give you your first orgasm.” 

“W-what?!” stuttered Mu Qing, his face flaming. “Can’t you—can’t you just put it in?” 

Feng Xin shook his head, giving Mu Qing a parting kiss before licking down his torso. Feng Xin dipped his tongue into Mu Qing’s belly button on the way down, biting a motley of bruises into his hip bones and the pudgy fat on his belly over where his womb used to sit that Mu Qing was never able to exercise away. 

Mu Qing was already gone just from kissing and touching. He couldn’t imagine how good it would feel to finally have Feng Xin inside of him like he’d been dreaming about, and his cunt gushed pathetically as he rolled his hips. 

Feng Xin chuckled, looking up to give Mu Qing a teasing look. “As eager as you are, I can’t just ‘put it in.’ You’ll need at least three orgasms before you can take me. Five if we’re lucky.” 

“Th-three?!” Mu Qing repeated incredulously. He’s never even had one orgasm, and Feng Xin wanted to give him three without fucking him? Was that even possible? “Just—can you just fucking fuck me already—fuck!” 

Feng Xin shut Mu Qing up by pressing his lips directly against his swollen and sensitive clit. His fingers were gently tracing his slick-soaked entrance, not yet entering him. Mu Qing keened, his hips pushing into the light touch. He’d never been touched there before—not even by himself—and it wasn’t what he was expecting. It felt good, but not exactly mind blowing like he always heard it described. 

Feng Xin laughed, loud and without care. “Don’t give me that look,” he said, a fond smile on his face. “We’re just getting started. I haven’t even touched you in all the good places yet.” 

Mu Qing glared at him through a pout. “What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not giving you any look!”

“You’ve got that look on your face that says you’re unimpressed,” said Feng Xin. “Don’t worry, I’ll break you soon enough.” 

Before Mu Qing could reply, Feng Xin was sliding his forefinger and then his middle finger into his sopping cunt. Mu Qing bit back a groan, wiggling his hips down. He clenched around Feng Xin’s fingers experimentally, and Feng Xin let out a loud moan as he dropped his forehead onto Mu Qing’s belly. 

“Oh, fuck,” he said breathlessly. “If this is what you feel like on my fingers, then I can’t wait to see what you’ll feel like on my cock.” 

Mu Qing whimpered, his pussy clenching down desperately as Feng Xin’s fingers began fucking in and out of him. Feng Xin looked up at him with dark eyes, something wild behind them. 

“Oh?” he said. “Does my Qing’er like it when his pretty cunt is complimented? Does he like being told how good he feels?” 

“F-Feng Xin, please,” Mu Qing whimpered weakly, feeling slick drip out his cunt to pool under his hips. He peered down tearfully at Feng Xin, already overwhelmed by the sensation of having his cunt stimulated for the first time in his life.  

Feng Xin’s brows were furrowed in concentration as he fucked his fingers in and out of Mu Qing’s cunt, his tongue poking out between his teeth. The dangerously serious look on his face coupled with their activities was so out of place that Mu Qing laughed, his head falling back while some anxiety he didn’t even know he’d been holding onto floated away. 

Feng Xin’s expression immediately lightened, and he pulled his fingers out of Mu Qing’s cunt partway so he could lean up to kiss him. “Stop laughing,” he said mirthfully, laughing himself. “Am I really so bad at this?” 

“No,” Mu Qing said through his giggles. He lifted a hand to thread his fingers through Feng Xin’s hair, pulling him in for another kiss as Feng Xin worked two more fingers into him. It caused Mu Qing to groan into his Feng Xin’s mouth, the stretch tight. No wonder Feng Xin wouldn’t fuck him immediately—his cock would never fit without preparation. “You just—oh, fuck, oh fuck, yes—you just looked so serious.” 

Feng Xin panted into Mu Qing’s mouth, the muscles and veins in his forearms bulging as he worked his fingers in and out of Mu Qing’s pussy. This angle was a bit awkward for his wrist, his fingers reaching only half as deep as they did earlier.  

“Sorry,” he said. “It’s—uh, it’s been a while since I’ve done this. It should be right around here, though….” 

Before Mu Qing had the opportunity to ask what ‘it’ was, all four of Feng Xin’s fingers pressed into a spot inside of him that had Mu Qing screaming in surprise as his back arched clear off the bed. He could feel his cunt spasming and clenching on Feng Xin’s fingers as slick gushed out of him, his first ever orgasm ripping through his body with such violence and intensity he didn’t think he’d ever recover. 

Feng Xin looked devilishly pleased, a self-satisfied expression on his face. He kissed Mu Qing deeply before pulling away, sinking back down between Mu Qing’s legs to effectively finger him through his orgasm as he peppered kisses over every piece of bare skin he could reach. 

“Are you ready?” Feng Xin asked. 

Mu Qing blearily forced his teary eyes open, wave after wave of pleasure making his mind hazy. “R-ready for cock?” he asked, instinctively spreading his legs further. “Yes, yes! Please!” 

“No,” said Feng Xin. “Ready for this.” 

He gave Mu Qing no chance to respond as he licked a thick stripe along Mu Qing’s vulva, his tongue forcing its way into Mu Qing’s sopping cunt alongside his fingers. He pulled his tongue out before swirling it around Mu Qing’s clit, pulling the sensitive nub between his lips so he could suck on it. 

Mu Qing screamed, a loud moan ripped from his mouth. His hands flew down to grab desperately at Feng Xin’s head, his fingers curling around fistfuls of thick hair. He was still riding the high from his first orgasm, yet he ignored the pinpricks of pain while his hips desperately rode Feng Xin’s mouth and fingers. The noises emanating from between his legs were grossly obscene and embarrassing, but Mu Qing couldn’t care less when all he could feel was tendrils of white-hot pleasure licking at his spine and belly. 

With one more delightful push of Feng Xin’s fingers in sync with the twirl of his tongue around his clit, Mu Qing was cumming again. He cried out desperately, his thighs trembling as he held Feng Xin’s face tight to his spasming cunt. He could feel fluid squirt out of his cunt, the pleasure so blindingly intense that it was painful. He whimpered as he grinded his hips down onto Feng Xin’s fingers then up to his mouth, unable to go anywhere to escape the pleasure. 

Feng Xin pulled his fingers out of Mu Qing’s cunt, a rush of slick following. Mu Qing groaned at the sudden feeling of being empty, his cunt clenching down desperately on nothing. He wasn’t empty for long, though; Feng Xin dove back in, both hands grabbing Mu Qing’s thighs tightly. He licked and sucked Mu Qing’s cunt like a starving man, forcing his tongue into Mu Qing’s cunt before pulling back to suckle on his clit. 

“Oh god,” Mu Qing sobbed, his thighs squeezing Feng Xin’s head. He’d never felt such blinding pleasure in his life, the edges of his vision popping and sparking. “Oh, fuck! Yes, yes, right there! Oh!” 

His third orgasm had him curling around Feng Xin’s head as he came, his cunt pulsing. Feng Xin hummed happily as he ate him out, licking up all the slick that gushed out of Mu Qing’s cunt as if he couldn’t waste it. His tongue thrust in and out of Mu Qing’s hole as Mu Qing sobbed and trembled around his head, and just like that a fourth orgasm was ripped from Mu Qing before he could even process the third. 

“Please, please,” Mu Qing sobbed, falling back onto the bed once he was able to relax his muscles. “Please, I need you inside me, please A’Xin.”

Feng Xin pulled back from Mu Qing’s cunt with a pleased sigh. His eyes were hazy with lust and his face was an absolute mess of slick. He looked at the thick coat of slick still covering his fingers before raising them to his mouth to lick them clean in a mindless way. Mu Qing watched him with a perverted kind of fascination, disgust and arousal simmering in his belly simultaneously.

“You taste fucking divine,” Feng Xin said, licking between his fingers. He reached down to run a finger through Mu Qing’s cunt again, gathering his slick on his fingers before bringing it back up to his mouth. He looked utterly lecherous. “Fuck, I could stay between your pussy forever if you’d let me. I’d love to eat you out for hours. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything as good as you.” 

Arousal was burning bright in Mu Qing’s belly, and Feng Xin’s words did nothing to help. “That’s—that’s—“ 

“What is it, Qing’er?” Feng Xin said with a smirk, continuing to bring Mu Qing’s slick up to his mouth to lap it up. “Gross? Humiliating? Indecorous?” 

“Really fucking hot,” Mu Qing breathed out. “Fuck. If you don’t kiss me right fucking now I’ll lose my goddamn mind.”

“F-fuck,” Feng Xin groaned. He surged upwards, sealing their lips together. Mu Qing could taste himself on Feng Xin’s tongue, and the knowledge that it was him—him— who made Feng Xin so debauched was overwhelming. 

“Please fuck me already,” Mu Qing begged. “Please, please, I’m ready. I can take it.”

Feng Xin nodded, grabbing his cock and giving it a few pumps as pre-cum dripped from the head. Mu Qing watched rapturously, his pussy throbbing at the realization that it was about to go inside of him. 

Feng Xin dragged a hand through Mu Qing’s slick, though he did not lick it up this time; instead, he used it to lubricate his cock. He pulled Mu Qing’s knees over his shoulders as he lined the head of his cock up to Mu Qing’s entrance. The tip barely brushed his folds and they groaned in tandem, both of them so worked up that that simple touch sent sparks through their bodies. 

“Fuck,” groaned Feng Xin, one hand on his cock and the other on Mu Qing’s hip. He was trembling like a leaf in the wind. “Fuck. I think—I think it just fucking hit me that I’m about to fuck you.”  

It hit Mu Qing at that exact moment as well. He surged up to cup Feng Xin’s face with both hands, kissing him deeply. Feng Xin whined as he pressed into it, his hands tight on Mu Qing’s hip. 

“Feng Xin,” he said, his voice thick. “If you don’t put your dick in me right this instant, I am going to explode.”  

Feng Xin nodded desperately. He pushed his cock into Mu Qing slowly; even with all the natural slick and the preparation of four orgasms the fit was still tight, and it took him a second to pop the head of his cock in. Mu Qing gasped, feeling impossibly stuffed full with the tip alone—how was he supposed to take the entire thing? 

“God, I’ve imagined this so many times,” Feng Xin groaned. “You—fuck, you really have no idea what you do to me.” 

Mu Qing took a deep, stuttering breath as he forced himself to relax. “T-tell me. Please.”

Feng Xin nodded. He rearranged their bodies until he had his forearms on either side of Mu Qing’s head to support his weight, Mu Qing’s legs pushed up and over his shoulders with his heels digging into Feng Xin’s spine. He gently rocked his hips, and Mu Qing gave a quiet gasp as pleasure began to lick up his spine. 

“I’ve imagined taking you apart after our sparring sessions,” Feng Xin said. “When you’re all sweaty and disheveled… ngh, fuck, I’ve imagined taking you right there in the middle of the training grounds, without caring who sees. I—god, Mu Qing, you feel so fucking good.” 

Mu Qing couldn’t breathe. He held Feng Xin’s face in his hands, pulling him down for a heated and slow kiss. Their tongues slid against one another wetly, the smack of their lips muffled between their bodies. Feng Xin’s hair had slipped from its ponytail to become a loose curtain around their heads, limiting their field of view to only each other. 

Feng Xin’s hips snapped and his cock finally slid all the way in, his balls pressed firmly against Mu Qing’s ass. It reached so fucking deep that Mu Qing cried out, his back and hips arching clean off the bed until his head was the only point of contact left. His entire body was trembling, a fervid, electric feeling shaking him whole like an earthquake where the epicenter was his pussy. 

Feng Xin pulled back in shock. “Sorry,” he whispered. “Sorry, does it hurt? Do you need me to pull out?” 

Mu Qing locked his ankles behind Feng Xin’s back, using all the strength he had to keep Feng Xin from pulling out. He sobbed as another blinding wave of pleasure crashed upon him, his nails digging into Feng Xin’s shoulders until he bled. 

“Don’t—don’t fucking move,” he moaned pathetically, tilting his head to hide his face in his shoulder as if that could save him from the onslaught of scorching pleasure. “Don’t you dare fucking move.” 

Feng Xin blinked once, twice. Then a terrifying smirk spread across his face, his eyes dark and mischievous. “Oh my god,” he said. “Mu Qing, baby, are you—are you cumming? Just from having my cock inside of you?” 

He shifted his hips experimentally, the head of his cock pressing in even deeper. Mu Qing sobbed, his cunt spasming and gushing through another wave of pleasure.  

“Oh, fuck,” groaned Feng Xin. He dropped his head down to rest on Mu Qing’s shoulder, his forehead slick with sweat. “Oh, fuck. That’s really fucking hot.” 

“Ahh,” Mu Qing slurred, pulling Feng Xin’s head up by his hair to give him a sloppy kiss. “Feels good, A’Xin.” 

Feng Xin smiled down at him like a puppy that had just been praised. “Yeah?” 

“Mmm,” Mu Qing hummed happily, his head hazy as pleasure continuously crashed down on him over and over. His mind had long since floated off, replaced by a horny animal that lived for the feeling of Feng Xin’s cock inside of him. 

Feng Xin gave him an exceedingly tender kiss. “Then you’ll love this.” 

Mu Qing blinked through his fuzzy vision in confusion, wondering what Feng Xin meant. Feng Xin gave him no time to think, however. He was pulling out until only the head of his cock remained snug in Mu Qing’s cunt before he slammed back in, the disgustingly wet squelch from their hips meeting obscenely loud. His cock brutally battered that spot deep inside of him, and Mu Qing screamed as the most electrifying pleasure he’d ever felt struck him. Feng Xin continued like this, thrusting into him hard and deep without stopping. 

Mu Qing could do nothing but lay there and moan brokenly as he continuously came over and over, his cunt gushing an endless stream of fluid. He clawed deep trenches down Feng Xin’s back, but Feng Xin didn’t seem to mind as he continued fucking all rational thought out of Mu Qing. 

It got to the point where Mu Qing didn’t know when one orgasm ended and another began. Maybe the entire thing was one orgasm; his pussy just kept clenching painfully hard down on Feng Xin’s cock, until Feng Xin had to reach down and hold Mu Qing’s hips in place so his cock wouldn’t be forced out from the strength of Mu Qing’s clenching cunt. 

The burning fire that Feng Xin lit in Mu Qing’s cunt was stoked with every thrust. He was breathing heavily, their skin and hair absolutely soaked with sweat. He grunted into Mu Qing’s ear with every thrust, and Mu Qing didn’t think he had ever heard a sweeter sound. 

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, deep and low. His hips were stuttering now, having difficulty keeping pace. “Oh, fuck, baby. You feel so fucking good. Such a tight and perfect cunt for me.”

Mu Qing was in full tears now, the pain of overstimulation almost too much to handle. Hearing that Feng Xin was enjoying himself just as much sent another stab of arousal into his cunt, and Mu Qing cried out Feng Xin’s name as he came for what must’ve been the tenth or eleventh time. 

Feng Xin’s laughter vibrated through Mu Qing’s body. “What a good boy you are,” he praised. “Taking me so well. You make me feel so good, Qing’er. So good.” 

Mu Qing sobbed. Despite all the times he had cum, it didn’t feel like enough. The fire of arousal was still scorching his nerves. His brain had pleasantly shut off after the fifth orgasm, and now Mu Qing could feel nothing but utter bliss. He was aware of the feeling of Feng Xin’s cock in him and Feng Xin’s body above him, but he could no longer feel the chill of the night air or the bed against his back. 

“Feng Xin,” he pleaded through tears. “Please, please, it’s not enough—I need more, please.”  

“Shh, baby, deep breaths,” Feng Xin soothed as his hips snapped. “It’s okay. I got you. Deep breaths and tell me what you need.” 

Mu Qing’s nails dug into Feng Xin’s shoulders as he brought him in for a tight hug. He followed Feng Xin’s breathing pattern until he his brain came back and he could think a little more clearly, his tears slowing. 

“I need you to cum in me,” he whispered after a moment. He was emboldened to continue when he felt Feng Xin’s cock twitch inside of him. “I need—I need you to get me pregnant. I need to be pregnant with your children. I need you to fuck me full of your cum and breed me. Please, please!” 

Logically, they both knew Mu Qing could not actually get pregnant. He really had cut out his own reproductive organs centuries ago. He no longer had a womb to carry children, and even if he did, he would never want to actually utilize it or be a real parent. 

Still, the mere fantasy of it was overwhelming for them both. Feng Xin moaned before he sat up slightly so he could fold Mu Qing in half, his cock reaching even deeper than before. He pulled out slowly before slamming back in, and Mu Qing let out the loudest moan of the night as Feng Xin did that over and over again. It only took three more thrusts until Mu Qing was cumming again, his cunt squirting painfully around Feng Xin’s cock for the nth time. 

Feng Xin’s first orgasm immediately followed. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned, continuing to pump his cock deep within Mu Qing’s cunt. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, baby, Qing’er, you feel so fucking good.” 

Mu Qing could almost cum again from the feeling of Feng Xin cumming inside him alone. His hole fluttered around Feng Xin’s cock in interest at the thought. Feng Xin glanced at his face, searching for something he seemed to have found as his hand reached down between their bodies. His fingers rubbed Mu Qing’s sensitive clit for the first time since he put his cock inside of him, and the second it was touched, Mu Qing was cumming again. 

Every single orgasm thus far had been overwhelmingly intense, but this one exceeded anything he’d ever experienced. He knew he was crying again, and he must’ve been saying something to Feng Xin because he could feel his mouth moving even if he couldn’t hear anything through the intense ringing in his ears. 

“No more,” he whimpered once he had crashed back down to earth, pushing Feng Xin shoulders. 

Feng Xin nodded and let his head drop onto Mu Qing’s shoulder, both of them sweaty and out of breath. Mu Qing’s cunt was throbbing in a mixture of pleasure-pain, Feng Xin’s cock still inside him. When he tried to pull out Mu Qing cried out in pain, so Feng Xin scooped him up into his arms and carried him to the hot spring without separating them. It was only when they were inside the pool of warm water that Mu Qing relaxed enough for him to pull out, cum and slick rushing out of his cunt following Feng Xin’s cock. 

Feng Xin cradled Mu Qing close as they snuggled in the water. Mu Qing was sitting sideways in Feng Xin’s lap, utterly satiated and relaxed. 

“I’m sorry, Qing’er,” said Feng Xin as he held Mu Qing. “I pushed you too hard for your first time. I should’ve warned you that it takes me a while to cum because of the whole Ju Yang thing, but I was just so excited to finally have you….” 

Mu Qing laughed openly, his head falling back onto Feng Xin’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, A’Xin. I really liked it,” he said, his voice hoarse and throat sore.

Feng Xin’s breath hitched. He was staring down at Mu Qing with an openly lovesick grin, a flush high on his cheeks. Feng Xin shook his head with a laugh, holding Mu Qing’s jaw so he could kiss him. It was slow and languid, nothing like the kisses they had previously shared. 

“I really am sorry, though,” Feng Xin said against Mu Qing’s mouth. “I really should’ve known it was too much. I never meant to push you that hard. Will you—will you tell me, next time? If it gets to be too much?” 

Mu Qing pulled away so he could look Feng Xin in the eye. “Feng Xin, I would’ve told you if this time was too much. I enjoyed it, really. I’d… I’d like to do it that way again.” 

Feng Xin still didn’t seem convinced, and Mu Qing let out a quiet sigh as he settled himself against Feng Xin’s chest. He ran his hands all over Feng Xin’s body now that he could, mapping out the planes of his muscles with his fingers. 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk, though,” he admitted after a couple moments of silence. 

Feng Xin let out a hearty laugh, the water rippling around them. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll carry you.” 

True to his word, Feng Xin kept Mu Qing in a bridal carry all the way down the path to the house. It had begun raining while they were up at the hot spring, and Feng Xin cursed as he stole a blanket off the bed to hold over their heads. Mu Qing held it up as Feng Xkn carefully raced down the path with Mu Qing in his arms, giggling the entire way. 

Once inside the house, Feng Xin carefully settled Mu Qing on the bed before climbing on after him. He arranged the blankets around them, and Mu Qing held his arms open for Feng Xin in a silent invitation. Feng Xin complied as he folded himself into the crook of Mu Qing’s arms as if he was made to be there, letting out a deep sigh of relaxation. Mu Qing laughed, his chest lighter than it had been in centuries. Feng Xin lifted his head with a soft smile, and Mu Qing had to stop himself from leaning down and kissing him—before realizing that he could now, and he quickly stole a kiss before he could psych himself out of it. Feng Xin pressed into the kiss with a happy hum, his eyes scrunched into crescent moons like a pleased cat. 

“Feng Xin,” Mu Qing whispered, running his hands through Feng Xin’s hair. “I love you. Let’s get married.” 

Feng Xin froze against him before he pulled away to look at Mu Qing, his eyes bright with tears. He kissed Mu Qing deeply, resting their foreheads together as he held Mu Qing. 

“Oh, god,” he cried. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you so much, Mu Qing, you have no idea. I promise I’ll be the best husband you could ever ask for. I’ll take care of you and make you happy, I promise.”  

“Oh, A’Xin,” said Mu Qing. “My love, you already do.” 

Feng Xin broke down in a sob then, tightly clutching Mu Qing. Mu Qing soothingly ran a hand up and down his back, whispering sweet nothings as Feng Xin finally quieted down. 

“Mu Qing,” Feng Xin sleepily mumbled. “I love you.” 

“I know,” said Mu Qing. “I love you, too. Now, go to sleep.” 

Feng Xin did not need to be told twice, and after their vigorous… exercise session, Mu Qing was struggling to keep his eyes open. They settled in close to each other, and within seconds they were asleep. 

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆

When Mu Qing came to, the first thing he noticed was a dull yet pleasant ache between his legs and the warm weight of another person behind him. 

He took a deep breath, instinctively knowing that the person currently holding him close was Feng Xin. His back was pressed to Feng Xin’s chest, Feng Xin’s arm wrapped under Mu Qing’s so Feng Xin could hold him close like a teddy bear. As if that wasn’t enough, Feng Xin’s leg was draped over Mu Qing’s waist, and Mu Qing would’ve found himself amused by his clinginess if he didn’t feel so comfortable and safe in Feng Xin’s arms. 

Feng Xin’s breath was a steady puff on Mu Qing’s ear, his chest pressing into Mu Qing’s back with every inhale. He was obviously still asleep, and Mu Qing very carefully sat up so he could look around. 

They were no longer at the house they had shared for a month, meaning they had managed to escape the curse afterall. Now, they were in an abandoned temple once dedicated to General Xuan Zhen. All the stuff he had with him prior to entering the domain was piled off to the side of the rather small shrine, and Mu Qing stretched with a groan as he went to dress himself. 

Right. The ghost. He couldn’t bask in the afterglow of sex just yet; he had to deal with the problem he had originally come here for. 

“Qing’er…?” Feng Xin sleepily mumbled behind him, his arm slapping around the bed in search of Mu Qing. “You awake?” 

“Yes, A’Xin, I’m awake,” Mu Qing said, turning around to soft brush the hair out of Feng Xin’s face. “Get up and get dressed. We need to find the ghost.” 

“Ughhhhh,” Feng Xin groaned. He flopped over until he could hug Mu Qing’s thigh. “Can I eat you out afterwards?” 

“Huh?!” said Mu Qing, smacking Feng Xin’s head. “How is that a reward for you?!” 

Feng Xin smacked Mu Qing back in response. “Trust me, Qing’er, it’s a reward.” 

Mu Qing rolled his eyes, though there was no way to hide his blush. “Fine. If we defeat this ghost without taking any damage, I’ll let you… e-eat me out afterwards.” 

Feng Xin was up and dressed in record time, his bun and robes sloppily done. Now that they had their spiritual powers back, Mu Qing left Feng Xin to search the temple while he called Xie Lian through the communication array. 

“Your Highness?” he called after reciting Xie Lian’s stupid password. “Are you there?” 

“Mu Qing!” Xie Lian immediately cried on the other end despite the time of night. “Ah! I was so worried! Does this mean Feng Xin found you?! Where are you?! I’m coming! Don’t move!” 

“Your Highness, I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” said Mu Qing. “I believe we’re somewhere near Zhujiawan Village. The domain we’d been caught in was in the Qinling mountain range, and we woke up in an abandoned temple to me.” 

Xie Lian didn’t immediately reply, and in the next second the door to the old shrine was thrown open. Xie Lian stood in the entryway, looking quite haggard. Feng Xin whipped around and lit up upon seeing Xie Lian, coming over to greet him. 

“Your Highness!” he said happily. “What are you doing here?” 

Xie Lian ignored him as he brought the two of them in for a tearful hug. “I was so worried!” he repeated. “How could you just go running off without telling me?! Don’t do that!” 

Mu Qing hesitantly brought his arms up to return Xie Lian’s hug. “I’m… sorry,” he said. 

Xie Lian broke away with a sniffle. He clapped his hands together and smiled, brushing tears away. “I’m just glad you guys are safe. Now, tell me what is going on. We can figure this out together.” 

Without explaining the gross and personal specifics of the domain, Mu Qing began to explain everything that had led them up to this point. Xie Lian and Feng Xin listened intently. It was bizarre to be treated with such respect from the two most important people in his life, and he didn’t think he could ever get used to this feeling: the feeling of being seen, known, and loved. 

Xie Lian nodded once Mu Qing finished his explanation. He pulled two gourds from his sleeves and handed them to Feng Xin and Mu Qing. They were gourds meant to capture spirits, and Mu Qing clipped it to his belt. They split up, Feng Xin going outside to search for his dogs while Mu Qing and Xie Lian stayed in the temple. Feng Xin gave him a parting kiss before he left, and Xie Lian very poorly pretended not to see. 

After Feng Xin had gone, Xie Lian cleared his throat. Mu Qing glared at him in response. 

“Not a word,” he said. 

“I wasn’t going to say anything!” Xie Lian lied poorly. He sidled up to Mu Qing mischievously, tilting his head with a smile that was only innocent in appearance. “…Was it good?” 

Mu Qing flushed deeply. “Your Highness, really….” he sighed before shaking his head. “I think I came, like, fifteen times.” 

Xie Lian’s mouth popped open in surprise. He held his hand up, and Mu Qing rolled his eyes before returning Xie Lian’s high-five. 

“I really am happy for you guys,” Xie Lian said after a moment. “Just… don’t disappear next time you guys need to talk about your feelings, okay?” 

“Your Highness, you’re not one to talk about disappearing,” said Mu Qing.  

Xie Lian hummed noncommittally as he sorted through a pile of scraps. “Ooh, Mu Qing, come look!” he said. “Do you think this could be something?” 

Mu Qing wandered over to take a look at what Xie Lian had found. It was an old wooden lyre, carved with jasmine and maple leaves. Mu Qing raised an eyebrow at it. 

“How ugly!” he said. “You wouldn’t make any money with this, Your Highness.” 

Xie Lian deflated a little bit. “You think so…? Ah, that’s not the point! Look, it has some of your spiritual energy!” 

Mu Qing frowned and re-examined the lyre. Sure enough, it held some traces of him. Confused, Mu Qing bent down and picked up the lyre. It appeared to be the key to the array; it was weak, but definitely potent. It seemed to work by ensnaring the victim in an unbreakable trance, leading them to this shrine where the ghost then teleported them to its domain. It made sense, since the lyre held traces of Mu Qing’s energy—meaning the domain had been supporting itself off his spiritual energy the entire time. 

He snapped the lyre in half. Puffs of spiritual energy scattered like clouds, and Mu Qing tossed the broken lyre away. 

“General Xuan Zhen,” came a faint and weak voice from nowhere. Mu Qing and Xie Lian shared a glance as Ruoye began to unwind itself from Xie Lian’s wrist. “This one apologizes. This one never meant to trap you for so long….” 

Mu Qing frowned, hand on his sword. “Show yourself,” he commanded. 

The ghost did. She was a young girl of about eighteen, rather plain. She looked mournfully at Mu Qing before kneeling in a bow. 

“This one apologizes,” she repeated. 

Mu Qing didn’t care for senseless apologies. He popped the cork off the gourd, ready to suck the ghost into it. Xie Lian stopped him with a hand on his arm. 

“Miss, might I ask why you did all this in the first place?” Xie Lian asked. 

The ghost shook her head. “I just wanted to help,” she said. “By leading those people here, I gave them true love. I didn’t think that the array would begin to take the energy of their children, so I lured the General here to help.” 

Mu Qing scowled at her. “You lured me here?” he repeated. “How could you have possibly known it was me?” 

The ghost ducked her head. “My apologies, General,” she said. “It’s just that… everyone knows that when a cultivator in black by the name of Fu Yao appears, it’s actually the General.” 

Mu Qing was outraged. Xie Lian was amused. He covered his smile with one hand, waving the other to try and appease Mu Qing. 

“Miss, would you be willing to come to Ghost City with me?” Xie Lian asked. “My husband and I will take care of you there.” 

The ghost nodded, pulling herself to her feet as Xie Lian prepared his gourd for her. 

“Wait,” said Mu Qing, causing her and Xie Lian to freeze. “If you knew it was me and not some random cultivator, then why didn’t you just… send someone else? If the only requirement to getting out of the domain was sending me a… ahem, fertile match, then why didn’t you send me a match within the time frame? Why did it take so long for… for him to show up?” 

The ghost shook her head. “Pardon me, General, but I did not believe you would be happy with me if I had sent just anyone,” she confessed. “Besides, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, the array works off the ensnared’s spiritual energy. I don’t think anyone other than General Nan Yang would’ve been allowed inside the domain with you.” 

Mu Qing flushed deeply at the ghost’s implication. He waved his hand to signal he was done questioning her, and Xie Lian secured her in his gourd. 

Now that the domain and trap were dismantled for good, all the victims would recover. Mu Qing’s work here was done. 

“Your Highness,” he said. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to find my husband and take a nap.” 

Xie Lian smiled brightly at him. They parted with a brief hug as Xie Lian drew an array back to Ghost City, and Mu Qing stepped out of the shrine to look for Feng Xin. 

“Ah, I’m your husband already?” came a teasing voice. Feng Xin was standing off to the side of the shrine, his dogs happily panting at his feet while he led Mu Qing’s horse by the reins. 

Mu Qing narrowed his eyes at him. “How much did you hear?”  

“I showed up right after you told His Highness you came fifteen times.” 

“Ugh!” said Mu Qing, covering his face with his hands. He stomped over to grab his horse from Feng Xin. “You’re so annoying! Leave me alone! I’m going to go take a nap!”

“Ah, ah, ah,” said Feng Xin. He drew another distance shortening array on the surface of the door, opening it to show off his home in the mortal realm. “I believe I was promised a reward.” 

“You didn’t even do anything,” Mu Qing muttered as he stepped through the array with a blush. 

Feng Xin followed him with a chuckle. They  settled the horse and the dogs before retreating to Feng Xin’s personal chambers, where Feng Xin collected upon his reward many, many times.