The imperial palace was wreathed with the aged splendor of an era past its prime, or rather, a reign on the decline.
The sprawling, majestic building looked weary, the gilded gold decorations seeming several generations old. Its splendorous and imposing presence seemed somewhat diminished and tired in the starkly bright and cheery sunlight.
Standing in front of this moribund magnificence, all Qinghe felt was disinterest.
Wei Xiang was equally as indifferent. He was more interested in gazing at his lover's exquisite form and intent on imagining all the fun ways they could explore each other next, rather than wasting his time looking at an old, gaudy building.
On the other hand, facing the familiar palace gates, Jing Shui felt his heart fluttering wildly as if urging him to escape. A strong sense of danger and a premonition of incoming disaster pressed down on his mind. He strongly felt that once he entered through these gilded gates, he would never be able to leave.
He would be trussed up and forced to remain there forever in that oppressive, suffocating place, without being able to even breathe freely, sitting still and swallowing scroll after scroll and book after book packed to the brim with words that he must memorize, his mind feeling like it would burst from the overflowing knowledge ruthlessly being stuffed into it, the endless waves of characters mercilessly drowning him under their overwhelming flow as he felt helpless, so powerless…
And just as he was on the verge of choking on the familiar panic that was rising up his throat, he felt the completely unexpected sensation of a cool hand firmly squeezing his butt.
Jing Shui froze.
As if to assure him that it wasn't an illusion, that impudent hand brazenly gave his ass cheek another squeeze.
Knowing who the culprit was, Jing Shui slowly, deliberately turned his head, a blistering glare shooting from his eyes. And sure enough, he was met with the smugly smirking expression of Wu Xiao.
And as if to infuriate him more, Wu Xiao's impertinent fingers gave his butt one last squeeze before letting go.
Almost spitting with fury, Jing Shui vented his indignation by wordlessly raising his fist and aiming it directly at Wu Xiao's face, only for Wu Xiao to effortlessly catch it with a hand just as it reached his nose.
Then bringing the captured fist close to his mouth, Wu Xiao placed a gentle kiss on it.
Reddening as he felt the press of soft lips on his knuckles, Jing Shui burst out, "Y-You bastard! H-How dare you―! Such impertinence!"
Unheeding of his beloved's anger, Wu Xiao pulled Jing Shui closer by the fist still held in his hand and wrapped his other arm around the younger man's slim waist. Bending down, he touched his lips to Jing Shui flushed ear as he whispered intimately, "Ah-Shui, I'm so glad that you invited me over for a visit to your house to meet your parents."
Jing Shui blushed harder. Why did those words make it seem as if he'd brought Wu Xiao over to introduce him to his family as his lover or something?
Forget that, what 'visit to your house'?! This was the imperial palace! Was this the kind of place you'd casually drop by to visit?!
But Jing Shui did not notice that due to Wu Xiao's provocation, he had completely forgotten his fear of the palace. And as he was busy fuming flusteredly on the inside, Wu Xiao pulled him into absent-mindedly entering the golden gates.
With their hands locked together, Wu Xiao and Jing Shui thus crossed the threshold of the imperial palace, with an amused looking Qinghe and Wei Xiang following behind.
But no sooner had they stepped foot into the palace than a servant hurried over to greet them.
"Esteemed guests and Your Highness the Third Prince, His Imperial Majesty calls you for an audience," the servant spoke, hastily bowing his head.
Qinghe silently raised an eyebrow, his eyes flashing imperceptibly with understanding.
Usually, when receiving guests who had traveled long distances, it was expected that the visitors would at least be given some time to clean up and refresh themselves before being asked to meet their hosts. But it seemed that the emperor was so eager to meet his runaway son that he couldn't even wait long enough to fulfill common courtesy.
Seeing this sort of openly impatient and discourteous behavior, Qinghe could already surmise just how disarrayed the imperial court and inner palace must be.
After all, there was a reason the rules and restrictions for the people of the imperial palace were so strict. Disregarding it so blatantly for the sake of one's convenience, especially when one was the emperor—not only did something like this reflect poorly on the awareness of the ruler, it also didn't say much about the current situation of the nation under their rule.
But the fact that the imperial family had already fallen to such a state was very advantageous for Qinghe.
Thinking this, Qinghe smiled and raised a hand, gesturing to the pensive servant while saying, "Then by all means, please lead the way."
Wiping away nervous sweat, the servant hurried to comply, quickly leading them down the vast corridors and hallways and to the throne room.
As they swiftly passed through the opulent passageways, Jing Shui finally snapped out of his thoughts and looked around, puzzled. He was inside the palace, within these familiarly overbearing walls again, and yet the crippling fear that he'd expected to overtake him felt vague and distant.
Why was he still unafraid?
Then, becoming aware that his fingers were wrapped around a cool hand, Jing Shui startled in realization.
When he looked up with wide eyes, he saw Wu Xiao smiling reassuringly at him, no trace of his usual mischievousness visible in his eyes. Then opening his mouth, Wu Xiao spoke those familiar words that he'd so often used to console Jing Shui before:
"Ah-Shui, it's alright. I'm here, they can't hurt you."
Hearing him say this, Jing Shui closed his eyes to hide the wetness in them.
Those soothing words spoken in that calm voice… Ah, how many years had it been since he'd last heard them?
Jing Shui wordlessly held on tighter to Wu Xiao's hand. As long as he was with this man, Jing Shui knew that he would be safe.
When Jing Shui had newly arrived at the Golden Sun Sect, he'd been handed off to Wu Xiao by his master, just like she always did with anything she didn't know how to deal with. And the young and problematic Jing Shui who had so many knots and fears twisting in his mind was someone Sect Master Liu really didn't know how to handle.
In those days, every time Jing Shui had a nightmare about being dragged back to the palace, he'd sneak into Wu Xiao's bed. That was because, to the sixteen-year-old Jing Shui, this strange and playful sect master had been the most reassuring presence, not at all like those daunting and strict adults from the palace.
The place near Wu Xiao had eventually become Jing Shui's safe haven. After all, Wu Xiao was the person who had slowly, steadily dispelled his fears during those long, uncertain nights, reassuring him again and again that as long as he was there, Jing Shui need not fear his nightmares.
And gradually, Jing Shui believed him.
Now, it had become a conditioned response for Jing Shui to feel safe as long as he was in Wu Xiao's presence. That was why despite being in the palace, Jing Shui's fears remained distant as if afraid to plague him while Wu Xiao was near.
So, firmly holding on to Wu Xiao's hand, Jing Shui strode through the corridors of this place that had haunted him for decades.
Looking at Jing Shui's determined gaze as he kept moving forward, Wu Xiao felt warmth suffusing his chest. Knowing that his Ah-Shui trusted him to this extent, how could he not be happy?
In this way, they finally reached the throne room.
On either side within were rows of courtiers and officials, all of whom looked back with calculation and curiosity to peer at their newly returned third prince who had once held the title of Crown Prince.
But as they beheld the stunning appearance and elegant deportment of the four people who'd arrived, a hushed silence fell over the court.
Many of their attentions focused on how there were four people rather than the expected three. And since almost all their pre-planned schemes revolved around there being only three people, their plots had to be discarded for now. It was extremely troublesome.
Another thing that puzzled the courtiers was how all four of them seemed to be cultivators. Wasn't their crown prince the only one who was supposed to be an immortal? When had his friends also turned into cultivators?!
Uncaring of their enchanted, inquisitive, or bewildered gazes, Qinghe, Wei Xiang, Jing Shui, and Wu Xiao kept walking.
For the Wei Xiang and Wu Xiao who had lived so long, going to a grocery store would have been a more novel experience that visiting yet another imperial palace. All they felt at the sight of the exaggerated opulence of the throne room was utter boredom.
And though Qinghe was relatively young, he had also seen his fair share of the world and thus remained unmoved.
As for Jing Shui, having visited here so many times in his most dismal of dreams, this place couldn't be any more familiar to him. But since he still had Wu Xiao with him, he was able to remain calm.
Therefore, the four cultivators reached the throne room with indifferent expressions on their faces. When compared to the garish throne room that displayed material riches with such unreserved extravagance, the cultivators looked especially ethereal and aloof, untouched by the earthly desires and impurities of the secular world.
A wide and luxuriously carpeted path led from the entrance of the throne room to a high platform perched atop a series of stairs. On the platform, seated on a magnificently wrought throne, was the emperor.
After the herald announced their entrance, the four cultivators gracefully made their way down the path, walking up to the base of the stairs that lead up to the throne with stately steps.
On the throne, the old emperor looked on with an expressionless face. Only his eyes were exceptionally bright as they flicked over to his youthful-looking son who had finally returned to his grasp after evading his reach for so long.
Habitually, Jing Shui made to kneel in front of his father, but maintaining the grip on his hand, Wu Xiao held him up. As cultivators, there was no need for them to bend their knees to a mortal ruler. Qinghe and Wei Xiang also continued standing.
For those like them who had renounced the mortal world and set foot upon the path of cultivation, only their masters were entitled to receive such respect. And when they ascended, the heavenly emperor would also be deserving of such reverence. As such, how could a mortal emperor be considered worthy of the same regard?
Seeing them remaining upright, several courtiers marveled at their audacity. This was the emperor of the Xing Long Empire! Did these cultivators think they were above even the emperor?
Seeking to make a good impression on the emperor, a minister at the side scoffed snidely as he spoke, "Do cultivators not know of proper decorum? Kneel in front of your emperor!"
For a second, the four cultivators stood stunned at the sheer stupidity of this person.
Then, Qinghe looked over to the impudent minister with naked contempt in his eyes, his tone icy as he replied, "Our emperor? Are all imperial courtiers this ignorant? Cultivators acknowledge no emperor, we are not a part of your mortal empire."
On the throne, the emperor's eyes narrowed imperceptibly in displeasure.
The minister yelled out again, "How insolent! Your sects also stand on the land ruled by His Imperial Majesty! It is your due to pay respects to the emperor!"
At that, all four cultivators, even Jing Shui, looked at the minister with gazes that screamed 'Can someone really be so idiotic?'
After all, cultivator sects had been existing on this land far before even the thought of establishing the Xing Long Empire had formed in its founder's head. The sects were in fact older than most mountains and rivers in this world.
They had seen countless kingdoms and empires rise and flourish before eventually falling to dust, forgotten by the relentless march of time. They had witnessed even the rise and fall of the oceans. They had been there to observe the continents being shaped by the hands of nature as the massive chunks of land drifted apart and merged together.
Cultivators and their sects had been in existence for an unfathomably long time, their history older than the land itself, their power vaster than the endless expanse of the sky, their influence over this world entrenched deeper than the deepest of oceans.
And yet a mere mortal empire dared claim to own them?
Pinned under those four piercing and incredulous gazes, the minister felt like his breath was being choked. Unable to withstand the crushing pressure emitted by those many pairs of sharp and cutting eyes, he finally decided that it was a good idea to shut up.
Suddenly, a deep voice raspy with age spoke up, "I see that cultivators are such arrogant beings!"
As one, the entire court turned its attention to the throne and the noble personage seated on it.
The emperor was a thin and elderly man in his seventies, with a heavy brow and keen eyes glinting harshly. Though his voice was hoarse, it rang loud and majestic over the entire hall, making his discontentment clear.
Seeing that the first words he'd spoken to them were not inquiring after Jing Shui's wellbeing, Qinghe narrowed his eyes, his feeling of dislike towards this person strengthening.
Qinghe felt that if not bowing down to a selfish old man who was bringing his nation to ruins was being arrogant, then this arrogance was something everybody needed to have.
Meeting the emperor's gaze head-on, Qinghe calmly returned, "We are cultivators who pursue the path to ascension. And when one wishes to scale the heights of Heaven, one can hardly stain their knees with the dirt of the mortal world."
The emperor frowned at what those words implied, his tone holding a thread of anger as he asked, "Are you saying you are above everyone? That you kneel before no man and that no one deserves your respect?!"
Qinghe smiled placidly as he answered with seeming humbleness, "That is not what I meant at all, Your Majesty. If the situation calls for it, I will certainly bow and kneel in front of my master, as is right."
Hearing this, the emperor's fury mounted.
But Qinghe was not yet done.
With a strange smile and a twinkle in his eyes, Qinghe continued unabashedly in a casual tone, "Of course, there are occasions when I kneel in front of my lover as well, but those are for different reasons." To worship his beloved's 'little dragon' with his mouth, that is!
Sudden, shocked silence claimed the throne room.
Say what you would, but not a single courtier could have expected this refined-looking cultivator to make such a blatant innuendo, and right in front of the emperor at that!
Even the stoic-faced emperor felt his mouth twitch at this brazenness.
At the side, Jing Shui had been interestedly following the conversation between his friend and his father. He could guess that the only reason Qinghe had bothered speaking with the emperor at all was so that he could divert everyone's attention from Jing Shui.
But hearing that last sentence, Jing Shui felt somewhat confused. Why would he have to kneel before Sentinel Wei? Was it some type of play between them? Or was it some strange codeword? But whatever it was, Jing Shui felt extremely gratified at seeing his normally composed father rendered speechless due to it.
Wu Xiao, on the other hand, understood all too well what Qinghe meant, and so he burst into unrestrained laughter, uncaring of breaking the absolute silence in the throne room.
Wei Xiang just sighed and smiled wryly while shaking his head. "Qinghe, love, that is utterly inappropriate to discuss here."
Because as much as he didn't care about the imperial palace and the court, that didn't mean Wei Xiang would be so bold as to completely forsake his manners either.
Unheeding of his beloved's words, Qinghe turned and cheekily winked at him. "Oh? Would you rather we retire to our room and discuss it in detail there?"
"…" Wei Xiang had to try very hard to suppress his reaction at the image those words brought to his mind. Trying to curb his desire was not something he ever thought he'd be doing while standing in front of an imperial court full of uppity, old-looking men.
The aforementioned old-looking men all felt extremely aggrieved. This is the imperial court and you are standing in front of the emperor, you know! So could you both just stop flirting so openly and allow us all to scheme in peace?
Seeing the strange direction this discussion was suddenly taking, even the emperor felt pained.
So, trying to regain some measure of majesty, the emperor gritted his teeth and bit out, "Very well then. Our guests must be tired and wish to rest. You may all leave for now."
He felt that if they stayed any longer, making suggestive and lewd jokes fearlessly in his presence, any integrity his imperial court had would be ruined! It was best to just shoo them out now!
And so, the entire imperial court temporarily had to put aside the matter of the third prince for now.
The four cultivators thus exited the throne room.
Though Qinghe retreated while being the very picture of grace and poise, in his mind he was laughing uproariously while rolling on the floor.
The emperor's and the courtiers' expressions had been so great! They were all so stiff and so very easily offended! Ah, this might turn out to be fun after all.
Wei Xiang had on a rueful smile as he watched his little lover's gleeful expression. Oh well, as long his beloved was having fun, what did a little bit of indecorum matter in the end.
Wu Xiao was still chuckling. Who'd have thought that the little boy from back then would grow up to be someone with such a thick face? He could think back on those stupidly gaping expressions of those courtiers and be entertained for days!
Jing Shui was already used to being ignored by his father except for the times when his father had called to reprimand or punish him before, so he did not really think it was strange that the emperor hadn't spoken even a word to him. Plus, he had Wu Xiao by his side, so he hadn't really felt as pressured as he used to under his father's gaze this time.
Looking at the cheerful Qinghe, Jing Shui spoke sincerely, "Brother Feng, thank you."
Qinghe raised his eyebrow as he asked, "What for?"
"Back in the throne room, you diverted all of their attention from me to you by speaking with the emperor first, then you purposely angered him so that he'd let us leave early. Wasn't that due to consideration for me?"
For a moment, Qinghe simply looked at Jing Shui. Then turning away, he chuckled. "What need is there for thanks between friends. I was the one who made you come here in the first place, so it is only natural that I'd make sure that you don't feel too anxious while we are here."
Jing Shui felt moved. But before he could express his thanks once again, Wu Xiao dissatisfiedly spoke out, "What does that mean? Are you saying that I can't take care of my Ah-Shui? I'll have you know that I can also keep him anxiety-free!"
Scowling, Jing Shui immediately shifted his attention to this unreasonable person. "When did I become yours? Stop saying weird things like that!"
"But Ah-Shui… You used to come and regularly deliver yourself to my bed when you were younger. I'm only doing what's expected by taking responsibility for you."
Sputtering in front of these purposefully ambiguous words, Jing Shui burst out agitatedly, "Y-You! Utterly shameless! Stop making it seem as if―!"
Wu Xiao interrupted with a sigh, "Yes, yes, I know how shy you are. No need to say anymore, my beloved."
"Who's your beloved!" Jing Shui shouted out loudly.
But even as his mouth berated and bickered, Jing Shui's hand was still holding Wu Xiao's tightly as if loathe to part.
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Bonus Scene: Retrieval
[A/N: Since some of you asked to see An YaLing's mysterious junior brother, here he is. It's only a brief introduction, so tell me if you would like me to expand on or add to this (*^u^*)]
The night was dark and dreary, the atmosphere in the cemetery feeling especially ominous and sinister. Wispy grey clouds drifted hazily over the moon, shading the earth underneath and deepening the eerie gloom.
In the cemetery below, tombstones thrust out of the ground like rotten teeth, blackened and crumbling. Somewhere within these cemetery grounds, sitting relaxedly on one of the headstones, was a figure clothed in a dark blue robe. Held in his fingers that were tipped with thick, sharp claws was an ivory flute, shining lightly with an unearthly sheen. This flute was made of an elusive material called bone pearl and was a one-of-a-kind treasure that was long since thought to be lost to the world.
The figure of the blue-robed man slowly lifted the instrument to his smiling lips. Holding the flute vertically, his hands were poised with grace over the finger holes as he blew a gentle breath into the mouthpiece.
A shrill tune suddenly pierced the air, then faded into an undulating rhythm. The notes flowed continuously, winding higher and higher before the sharp tune gradually sloped down into a rich melody. As the music went on, the flute song grew chaotic and sharp, and yet it held a strange melancholy sadness within, as if it were a dirge being played to mourn the loss of dearly departed loved ones.
As the fluid yet jagged notes flowed over the cemetery, the people keeping watch outside shuddered in dismay.
Oh gods, it had begun again!
As the music continued pouring forth, vague, misty shadows seemed to gather in the cemetery. The shadows all shambled towards the direction of the tune with slow and unsteady steps.
Seeing their cemetery infested with these things once again, the townspeople felt chilled in their hearts. Though these strange apparitions hadn't caused harm yet, who knew how long that would last. Thankfully, their town chief had already called the Drifting Clouds Sect to deal with the issue. And as one of the Five Great Sects, there was no one more trustworthy or dependable than them, especially when it came to haunting music such as this that called forth ghostly specters. Now all that was left was to keep watch until the sect's disciples arrived.
Fortunately, they weren't kept waiting for long.
Cultivators in pure white robes soon appeared, their deportment serene and peaceful despite the eerie scene that lay before them.
But although that's how they seemed on the outside, many of the newer disciples were already shaking with fear in their hearts. Because though the mortals only saw vague, misty shadows, what the cultivators saw was far more defined and detailed, and those details were really quite nightmare-inducing.
The shadows were in fact ghosts, all their faces stretched in a wide, happy smile.
Some staggered forward, others floated, while those without legs crawled slowly towards the music. The ones with missing limbs had their heads and other severed body parts clutched in their hands as they continued onward.
One of the ghosts' head was hanging from his neck, barely connected to the stump by a finger's width of tissue and flopping grotesquely every time he took a step. Another ghost held her chopped off arm in her other hand, yet another had his eyeballs dangling from his caved-in head…
In short, the disciples were completely justified in their terror.
The stream of mutilated and misshapen ghosts gradually made their way towards the blue-robed young man who was still playing his flute.
Seeing the ghosts gathering around him, the young man smiled charmingly and finally stopped playing. In a kind voice, he asked, "Did you all enjoy today's performance?"
The ghosts all nodded, smiles still on their faces.
Not caring about their gruesome appearances, the young man clapped once happily. "That's good then. I'll come back a few months later and play some more for you."
The ghosts all looked visibly more joyful, which only made them appear creepier to the watching disciples.
To show their gratitude, the cheerful group of ghosts slowly approached closer to the young man, each wanting to give him a gift.
The first was the woman with the chopped off arm. She gave him her severed appendage, and the young man solemnly accepted it while saying, "Thank you, it is much appreciated."
The arm slowly dissolved into grey fog that was then absorbed into the young man's body.
One by one, the other ghosts also followed suit, gifting him an eyeball here, a finger there, and all these random body parts turned to smog and disappeared into the blue-robed young man's body.
Once all the ghosts had paid their tributes, they dispersed with pleased expressions on their faces.
It was only after this that the disciples of the Drifting Clouds Sect dared enter the cemetery, led at the front by the head disciple of the sect master, An YaLing.
An YaLing directly made for his junior brother. "Yingzi, how are you?"
Seeing his senior brother approaching with quick strides and a worried frown on his face, the dark-blue-robed young man, Li Yingzi, gracefully got down from the headstone he was using as his seat and straightened himself up.
In a low and melodious voice, he replied, "Senior Brother, I'm well. I had a good harvest of yin energy tonight, enough to last me a couple of months at least."
Sighing, An YaLing reprimanded him softly in a pleasant and clear voice, "If you lacked yin energy, why didn't you come to me? I would have taken you somewhere with abundant yin energy and let you absorb it to your heart's content."
Li Yingzi smiled brightly. "How could I trouble Senior Brother for something like this? Also, I quite enjoy playing for the unearthly ones."
An YaLing shook his head with amusement. "Though I know you have a soft spot for ghostly spirits, I am sure that it isn't the only reason you do this so regularly. Admit it, you also take great pleasure in frightening the poor townsfolk, don't you?"
Not denying it, Li Yingzi laughed brashly, a wide grin settling on his handsome features. "Senior Brother knows me well."
Moving closer, Li Yingzi brazenly wound an arm around his senior brother's waist and settled his head on his shoulder as they began walking back to the sect, the other disciples following behind in silence. They were already used to this scene by now.
Looking at the head of disheveled hair resting on his shoulder, An YaLing scolded lightly, "Did you forget to brush your hair again? And what about your nails? Since they grow too fast, it's better to keep them trimmed or you might hurt yourself with them."
Li Yingzi's eyes grew warm. "Then I will have to trouble Senior Brother as always."
Chuckling, An YaLing shook his head helplessly. "Oh, what am I going to do with you. Alright, let's see to it after we get back."
Li Yingzi nodded happily, his heart full of contentment.
One day, he would completely have this person, but not yet. For now, he was satisfied with this much.
Not knowing the direction of his junior brother's thoughts, An YaLing observed, "Oh, I just noticed, but you seem to have grown taller again. Yingzi, at this rate your height will soon surpass mine and I'll have to be the one borrowing your shoulder to lean on then."
Laughing, Li Yingzi spoke, "If Senior Brother wishes, I will gladly lend you anything of mine."
"Oh, you sweet-talker." An YaLing flicked Li Yingzi's forehead playfully. His junior brother seemed to be getting more and more mischievous as the days passed, but An YaLing found that he quite liked it.
Cheerfully chatting in this way, the two martial brothers slowly made their way back, the rest of the disciples quietly trailing behind them.
And thus, the mission to retrieve the troublesome Second Martial Brother Li Yingzi from yet another cemetery was completed successfully.