Archive of Our Own ^beta

Mu Qing dropped his brush, the ink smudging everywhere on the parchment.

"W-What?" He needed clarification at this very moment because there was no way he'd heard that right. "What happened to the South again?" He asked once more, looking straight into his deputy’s eyes, scrutinizing every corner of his twitching pair for any evidence of a prank.

"Uhm, t-they're, uh, they're s-surprised about..." his deputy stammered, fearful of his General's menacing gaze. He lowered his eyes to the scroll, reciting the report timidly. "Xuan Zhen and Nan Yang believers c-congratulate you on your marriage, G-General."

"Give me that!" Mu Qing quickly snatched the scroll from his deputy, reading many characters expressing his believers' shock, disbelief, and acceptance of his decision to merge with the Southeast. They believed it was best that both regions stop their senseless feud and be united as one common people. "We offer you our most heartfelt congratulations, General? We, now, pray to General Nan Yang to take care of you?" He crumpled the paper. "What the hell is this?!"

He furrowed his brows despite slender fingers attempting to soothe the wrinkles, not to mention the throbbing headache returning to him tenfold when he had just drunk a hangover tea to relieve it. "What is the meaning of this? What marriage? Are these worshippers okay?!"

The deputy flinched, shaking his head. "I-I don't know, General. I just learned about it now, too."

"Find out where this rumor started—"

"It came from the Palace of Ming Guang, General."

Mu Qing raised his eyebrow and stood up. "Pei Ming?! What the hell? Why would he start a baseless rumor about me and Feng Xin?!"

"I-I don't know, General. But from hearsay, it seems that General Pei doesn't know either, only his deputies."

"How would he not know?!"

“No one has seen him yet, General. Everyone thinks he’s sleeping in.”

Mu Qing knew he was scaring his deputy. He was never one to be this off-edge; he was always prim and proper and very gentle with his deputies, except when it was about Feng Xin, and he suddenly lost all composure.

"More importantly, of all rumors, why is it marriage to Feng Xin? Don't they know us both?"

"Forgive me for my bluntness, General, but aren't you close with General Nan Yang now? I mean, after the war, you and General Nan Yang became friends, right? You treat him differently than before."

"Are you insinuating that just because we're close , it's enough justification for why we've decided to marry each other?" While the thought would've made Mu Qing gag 800 years ago, his face was flushed, cherry red painting his cheeks, and he knew it wasn't because of the frustration of the rumor. “It’s ridiculous! We would never—”

Just as he was about to rant his way out of potentially exposing himself as someone who has feelings for his rival, he heard Feng Xin speak.

"Mu Qing..." Feng Xin's voice lulled him with his name, liking how it left his mouth. So natural. He held his hand face tenderly, "I take you as my beloved husband to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, especially for worse, for richer, for poorer, in trials and tribulations, to love, to cherish, until we cease to exist."

What was that? Was it a thought or a vivid memory? Regardless, it was insane and impossible. But, oh, how he wished it was true.

He shook his head, brushing the insane and very unrealistic idea out of his mind because Feng Xin would never say something like that, and he would never look at Mu Qing the way he looked at him.

Feng Xin would rather shoot himself than reciprocate Mu Qing’s feelings.

This crush—no, it felt more than that—was a secret that would die with him, and yet how could people assume something so intimate about him and Feng Xin on the sole basis that they've started to become f-f-friends?

"Fu Yao," he called his deputy. "Please take care of this misinformation. Clear things down in the Southwest. I’ll personally have a talk with General Pei. This is nothing but a rumor."

"Yes, General," Fu Yao bowed before him and turned to leave until the doors to his quarters burst open, revealing a fuming Feng Xin, his nose flaring as if he’d run from his palace to Mu Qing’s office. “G-General Nan Yang?”

"Mu Qing!" Feng Xin called his name in a panic, unveiling a scroll similar to the one he'd just read. "Did you know about this?!" he asked, though, from his voice, he seemed to accuse Mu Qing of starting that rumor.

"How could you say that?!" Mu Qing barked back. "I'm just as surprised as you are."

“What do you mean? You just read this, too?!”

Mu Qing put his fingers on his temples, rubbing them in circles because his headache worsened at the sight of Feng Xin.

“Can we not do this today? Look, I’ll talk to Pei Ming later. Just… stop shouting—” 

“Fucking hell! You… What is that on your finger?” Feng Xin's eyes widened, pointing at Mu Qing’s left hand. He also looked down on it, his stomach churning to see a beautiful silver ring with a crescent moon dotted with diamonds. “W-Why do you have that?” the Southeastern god asked.

“Y-You!” Mu Qing pointed at him as well. Feng Xin's gaze landed on the complimentary golden ring of a half-cut sun with diamonds adorning its rays. It didn't take an idiot to understand they'd fit perfectly if both rings were combined. “Why do you have one like that?!”

“Ah, what the fuck?!” Feng Xin groaned as he clutched his head. From the looks of it, he, too, was struggling to recount his memories.

Feng Xin needed to visualize just how Mu Qing got his hand on a very precious piece of jewelry he had saved for years, which only he and Pei Ming knew (he found out about it last week).

“Is this from you?” Mu Qing inquired, his slender fingers caressing the surface of the moon ring.

“Yes.”

“Did you have someone make these matching rings?”

Feng Xin gave him a small nod. Then came silence. 

They looked at each other, confused and very much surprised. A million questions were pooling in their eyes, like how, why, and since when. However, Mu Qing would like to clarify more about how , because there was no way in heaven or hell, he would confess to Feng Xin first, let alone propose that they merge their palaces and regions to be together forever! That’s completely unlike him.

He wondered if Feng Xin had taken the initiative to profess his feelings first.

“What else do you remember?”

“I remember the heavenly banquet, the laughter, the wine… but everything after that was a blur.” Feng Xin had vague, fragmented flashes of talking to Mu Qing, leaning on each other for support because they were too drunk, and complimenting Mu Qing’s shampoo. How, despite the stench of alcohol, he still smelled sweet and heavenly. Like cherry blossoms and vanilla. And something similar to home.

Then, he remembered playful banter and terrible jokes, but nothing more intimate like one of them going down on one knee and popping the ques—wait a goddamn minute!

“Holy shit…” Feng Xin gasped.

“What? Did you remember something?”

Feng Xin only stared at Mu Qing as shards of his memories came flooding down on him, dancing in his vision until everything in the present melted into the moment of his memory.

“Mu Qing, I thought you were the smart one here. How could you not notice me caring for you? For all those centuries? Really? Not once?”

“You dumbass! How was I supposed to know when you've been everything but caring? You're aggravating! You… you…” Mu Qing let out a heavy sigh, preparing for the following words. “You vex me! I know you hate me, but I will never know why you would loathe me so much! What did I ever do to you?!”

“Hey, you two. Calm down. This is not the time and place—” Pei Ming's words were cut off when Feng Xin slammed his jug of wine on the table. “Hey, don’t break my furniture!”

“Hate?! Mu Qing, you idiot! I never hated you!” He bellowed, his words echoing in Pei Ming’s vast garden and stunning the other gods. “Well, I didn't particularly like you but hate?” He laughed. “Hate is too strong a word.” 

Feng Xin's voice dropped in a whisper, barely audibly if one wasn't paying attention, but despite the threat of the alcohol, making him weak and his senses barely functional, Mu Qing listened to every word, and his heart skipped a beat with how honest Feng Xin looked at him, his golden eyes sparkling with the truth.

“I never liked how you were so fucking mean, putting up so many fucking walls around you when His Highness and I only wanted to be fucking close to you.” He started pointing an accusing finger at Mu Qing. “I didn't like that you were always on guard like you didn't trust us. I couldn’t help but be so fucking angry at you for it because you were always so obvious of your hatred towards me.”

“Wait a minute,” Mu Qing brought a hand over Feng Xin's mouth, shutting him up completely. “Who says I hate you?”

“Huh?” came Feng Xin's muffled question.

“Feng Xin, I… I only thought you hated me. That's why I acted like I hated you too,” Mu Qing confessed, his voice so small, barely audible. “I already told you…” He heaved a deep sigh. “I just wanted to be your f-f-friend.”

They stared at each other in silence, lost in the sincerity of their gazes, both yearning for something only the other could give them, like a hand reaching for an anchor.

Then, Feng Xin moved first. He held Mu Qing’s wrist. Unlike most times when they would spar, and Feng Xin would pin his hands over his head to make him yield, the Southeastern god’s touch was anything but harsh. It felt like a flutter of a butterfly’s wing. So gentle, like he was scared to break Mu Qing.

He snaked his fingers on Mu Qing’s palm, tracing the lines and drawing small circles around it until his touches became bolder and entwined their fingers together.

“Feng Xin?”

“Mu Qing… you idiot,” Feng Xin chuckled as he looked at the starlit night above. To the radiant moon shining its light on them. “I've always wanted to be your friend, too. Even more, actually. I wanted to talk to you. To spend time with you without arguing over nonsense.” 

Then, he veered his attention back to Mu Qing, letting a gasp escape because even when his eyesight was blurry, Mu Qing’s beauty stood against the strong pull of the alcohol.

“I know I’m fucking loud, sure, but I’m not that bad. If you weren’t so cold and distant, we could’ve… I don’t know. Maybe we became really good friends who talked to each other nonstop and laughed and got along like normal fucking people. Because whenever I want to talk to someone, your face always comes to mind. Whenever I feel the urge to share my day, I go to my balcony and stare at the moonlit sky. You always resembled the moon to me. So beautiful and bright. I’d talk to the moon and imagine it was you. And it just felt right.”

“Feng Xin….” His name was caught in Mu Qing’s throat. The idea of Feng Xin, his Feng Xin, yearning and speaking to the lone celestial being as though it were him—Mu Qing’s heart clenched in a way that he hadn't expected that evening. Because, in all honesty, he felt the same. He had admired the sun countless times more than he could remember, always reminding him of Feng Xin.

“I like you, Mu Qing. That's the fucking truth. I like you a lot,” Feng Xin asserted. “I’m sorry it took so long to tell you what I really feel about you. It was never hate. It was closer to… love, I guess?”

Mu Qing’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears. And his heart could break out of his ribcage at how quick it was beating. Partly from the alcohol but mainly because of Feng Xin. He finally professed his true feelings.

He should, too.

“I don’t fucking know much about love, but all I know is that I want to spend the rest of my existence with you. And only you by my side,” Feng Xin added, squeezing Mu Qing’s hand and bringing it to his lip, pressing a tender kiss on the back of his hand. “That is if you'd let me.”

“Well, I do,” Pei Ming suddenly spoke, and both of them jumped. They forgot about Pei Ming and how they were practically lounging in his garden instead of returning to their respective palaces. “And I tell you that this thing you have going on for so long is pure love,” he said, resting his chin on his hand and eyeing his co-gods with a playful glance. “Nan Yang, my good friend, tonight's the perfect time to show Xuan Zhen what you're hiding in your pockets.” He giggled, drawing small circles in the air.

Feng Xin didn't know if it was the alcohol making him more susceptible to suggestions or simply his boldness of wanting Mu Qing for himself because he took out the matching rings he had commissioned from a jeweler in the Southeast and offered it to Mu Qing. He would've gone down on one knee if it weren’t for his trembling legs that surrendered to the force of gravity. He had to sit still, or else he would have ruined everything.

“Mu Qing, can we stop beating around the fucking bush and be real to ourselves for once? I don’t want to keep fighting like brats who don’t know what they want. I am a man. And I want you forever and always.”

“Feng Xin?” Mu Qing rasped out his name, his voice trembling like his fidgeting fingers. 

“You don’t have to feel the same. I am not fucking forcing you to share my feelings. I just want to be so fucking real about what you mean to me—”

“Feng Xin, I feel the same, so let’s just get married before we regret this,” Mu Qing blurted out, grabbing the ring from his hand.

That's all Feng Xin could remember.

“Did we… did we seriously do it?” Feng Xin asked as he stared at Mu Qing’s hand.

“I-I don’t know… I don’t think so. I mean—You tell me! You're the one who can hold his alcohol more than me.” He groaned, trying to stand up, but his body immediately protested with a sharp, painful throb in his head.

“Just because I fucking hold it well doesn’t mean I don’t get drunk.” Feng Xin grumbled. “Mu Qing, are we really married?” He gasped and put a hand over his mouth.

To Mu Qing, he appeared to be barfing at the possibility of them being married. But in reality, Feng Xin was hiding the blush on his cheeks, his face heating up like all his blood went straight to his head.

Mu Qing only sighed. “This can't be right. It’s probably just a rumor. We can't possibly be—” He stopped, hesitating as if the words were too ridiculous to even consider. “—wed to each other.”

“I don’t remember anything like that happening.” Feng Xin pretended, still not sure if what he saw was real. “I mean… we were both drunk. We could've let out a few jokes, but never marriage, right?”

“Y-Yeah…”

Deep down, both of them felt that they were only deluding themselves because, as much as they tried to remember, they could only make out one vivid memory.

“In the name of the stars, the moon, and everything completely ridiculous… I, the ever charming and luscious God of Love, pronounce you both married. Forever and ever. Whether you remember this or not tomorrow is none of my business. Anyway, you may now kiss,” Pei Ming said with a cheeky smile.

They exchanged glances as if they were thinking the same thing.

“We need to go to the Palace of Ming Guang,” Mu Qing said, pushing himself up from his desk.

Feng Xib groaned. “Pei Ming?”

“Pei Ming.”

The two of them took off to Pei Ming’s palace in silence. With each step to the Northern god’s quarters, more and more memories become clearer. From the moment they stepped into the Hall of Divine Might, watching plays dedicated to the gods to cheering on who won the lantern contest.

The Palaces of Nan Yang and Xuan Zhen were tied this year. They barely had any reaction to it. After all, it wasn't their first time tying up. 

They only spared soft smiles as they went about their drinking. Then, Pei Ming invited them to his palace. To have more fun , he insisted. 

Well, now they're struggling with the aftermath of that fun party.

I can't believe I drank too much. Mu Qing wanted to bang his head against the wall. Why was he so careless? It was unlike him! But as he glanced to his right, seeing Feng Xin silently muttering curses and slapping his hand over his forehead, he realized he wasn't the only one caught lacking.

“Feng Xin.”

“Mu Qing.”

They called at the same time.

“What?” They looked at each other.

“What?” Mu Qing asked, gesturing for him to continue. “You were saying?”

“No, you were about to say something.”

Sighing, Mu Qing lifted his left hand and showed it to Feng Xin. “What happens when we meet Pei Ming?” He asked.

“Huh?” Feng Xin's eyebrows met in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… we are here to clarify things from last night, right? What if we remembered everything? Then what? Am I to return this ring? Are we to return our separate ways and pretend nothing ever happened?”

“Mu Qing…” Feng Xin couldn’t say anything but his name because that was what he was concerned about, too. “Do you want things to return to what they used to be?” He threw in a question instead.

Mu Qing couldn’t answer either, torn between this new life with Feng Xin or the former when they thought they hated each other's guts. Even though he was drunk last night, he meant every word.

“Because if you don’t want to be with me, it’s fine,” Feng Xin added. “I don’t want to tie you down just because of my feelings for you.”

“Feng Xin.” Mu Qing pulled to a stop and faced Feng Xin. “What if I want to continue like this?”

“Huh?”

Mu Qing bit his lip and looked down, his obsidian gaze stuck on the pretty ring on his finger. “What if I want to be married to you but properly and only after we get to know more of each other and spend more time with each other? What if I also want to tie you down with me for life?” With the last sentence, Mu Qing gaped at Feng Xin. The Southeastern god’s eyes couldn’t be wider, sparkling in stupor but with a glint of bliss.

“Mu Qing, I…” Feng Xin placed Mu Qing’s hand above his chest—to his heart, beating so loud and fast. “I love you. There, I fucking said it. I have loved you for so long already. And I meant every fucking word last night. I remember everything clearly. And I know it was a hasty decision to tie the knot in front of our very drunk friend, but I really truly want to be with you forever.”

Mu Qing’s heart skipped a beat, dying only to start anew.

“I feel the same.”

“You do?” Feng Xin couldn’t believe it. “Are you sure?”

Mu Qing nodded, and he stepped forward, their faces mere inches from each other. He couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss from last night. It was just a blur. He needed to relive it.

"Feng Xin, kiss me," he whispered, his voice barely a breath, the words escaping before his mind could catch up with his heart’s desire.

They looked at each other, unable to move as disbelief washed over them momentarily. They couldn’t believe this was really happening.

And then, without hesitation, Feng Xin grabbed Mu Qing’s neck, and their lips met in a collision that felt so familiar, like fists meeting each other’s skin but even better, like destiny itself was pulling them together and molding them into something perfect.

The world around them faded into a quiet hum as they shared a kiss that rivaled 800 years of animosity and won with the promise of love and forever.

“Ho ho! Honeymoon right in front of me?” They pulled away from each other, hearing a familiar teasing tone. They turned to the side and saw Pei Ming standing in the doorway to his quarters, literally right in front of them. “Happy nuptials, my dear friends. Fancy seeing you here.” He winked. “You know what? I should do more weddings in the future.”

“Pei Ming, you!” Fists were aimed at Pei Ming, threatening his silence, but the god only giggled, unbothered.

“You know what they say? What happens in Ming Guang Palace stays in Ming Guang Palace!”