When Liu Sumeng woke, he was alone. What was he expecting?
He stared up at the ceiling where murals of fantastical scenes were depicted in vivid fullness. A Young Master clad in white brandished his sword against a black-clothed villain. He didn't want to see this scene and forced himself to his feet. Depression plagued him and it felt difficult to even drag himself out of bed. The early morning birds chirped with a cheeriness he couldn't accept. He sighed and then he sighed again. The Organ Eating Dagger was finally in his hands and he wasn't happy in the slightest. He thought perhaps he should have tried harder to please Yuan Xuelan. That he should have done things differently.
He opened the window by just a sliver, allowing a sharp gust of winter wind to slip through. The morning rays were blinding.
He couldn't help but wonder if his personality was better, more pleasant, would things still have turned out this way?
A tiny beak poked at this neck, "If you dare sigh another time I will drill a hole into your neck, foolish human!"
Liu Sumeng looked at the little red fluff bouncing on his shoulder and plucked her from her perch. She seemed a bit angry, puffing her feathers at him but at least she was cute. He ran his thumb over her downy head and she preened, leaning into the touch. "Hmph, don't think you might seduce me with this head-petting. I shan't be so easily swayed."
But she quieted and didn't complain even when Liu Sumeng sighed again.
When he strolled through the halls of the Hidden Mist Manor, he couldn't find Yuan Xuelan. Perhaps he would have with a little added effort but the echos of biting words were still fresh in his mind.
Did he not know about personal space?
Did he want Yuan Xuelan to hate him?
He really didn't so Liu Sumeng sulked on his own, accompanied only by the little red ball of fluff that chirped at him on occasion. Liu Sumeng wanted to cleanse his mind so he did the only thing he did well. And that was practicing his sword. And thus the Ivory Sword Saint took to the courtyard and ignored the curious glances of Hidden Mist disciples peering his way.
He tried as he could to clear his thoughts, to ease away the image of a scowling Yuan Xuelan, and the tension that once again blossomed between them. His sword and body flowed with the movement of a river, each pivot, and slice cutting away the thoughts that brewed uncertainty. Liu Sumeng allowed himself to be drowned by thoughtlessness and the point of his blade.
Yuan Xuelan hadn't gone far. He was still in the Hidden Mist Manor. He had gone to see his mourning cousin. And he might have only done so as an excuse to avoid Liu Sumeng but now he was facing a scene that reminded him of the entire affair last time.
"You don't have to do it this way," Yuan Xuelan repeated those cursed words but felt like he couldn't truly grasp their meaning. Not yet. But he was trying.
The air was stuffy in Peng Jipei's room and messy to boot like he hadn't cleaned it in days. His bedsheets were askew, half on the bed, half off. The plants, neglected, were wilting and even the floor had a layer of dust and dirt. It appeared that even servants haven't been allowed in here. Peng Jipei was dressed in white morning clothes and was sitting on his bed. He didn't even look up to acknowledge Yuan Xuelan's presence.
All this felt incredibly foolish. There was only awkwardness to comfort him as he stood in front of a listless Peng Jipei. Yuan Xuelan sighed and scratched the back of his neck. If it wasn't following Peng Jipei's wishes, then how could he show his loyalty? How could he show his support? Yuan Xuelan was wrought with uncertainty. He was never a person that understood the feelings of others or understood what they needed.
So he could only stare at his cousin like a fool and feel awash with helplessness. It was easier with Chen Anyue, who always seemed to understand both others and herself. But with Peng Jipei or even Liu Sumeng, Yuan Xuelan could only flounder around like an idiot, lost.
And thus he started with walking around the quiet Peng Jipei and picked up his bedsheets. The room was filled with the sound of folding clothe and he tried to focus on the soft cotton beneath his fingers instead of deafening awkwardness. And when he was done folding bedsheets he went to straightening and watering the plants. And he swept the floor until there was nothing else to do than to stare at Peng Jipei. "Hey."
But there was still no response. He scratched his neck again and shuffled his feet. Soon, Yuan Xuelan was left with no choice but to take his leave.
He didn't want to see Sumeng so instead, he went to take a walk in the forest again and battle against winter's frost. The gloom that followed him was thick and Yuan Xuelan was not keen on seeing Liu Sumeng's face. He would have to though, especially when he was planning to leave the Hidden Mist tonight. There was no reason for them to stay any longer.
So he basked in the calm of his lonesome and endured the bite of winter's breeze. "It's cold…" He complained to no one and rubbed his hands together before fogging his breath against his fingers. He thought about Chen Anyue and returning to her side. But it only reminded of the wedding was due to take place.
Ah, he didn't want that to take place.
Recently, there were a lot of things that Yuan Xuelan didn't want.
In the snow he found the fresh trails of a fox and with nothing better to do, he followed it as far as he could.
Back in the Hidden Mist Manor Liu Sumeng was still practicing his steps in the courtyard and had gathered quite a small crowd of spectators. They couldn't help but be curious about the man who danced to seduced a goddess with his sword. They murmured and whispered to each other, some with wonder and others criticism. Liu Sumeng ignored their watchful eyes and continued his steps, even as his wounds flared and groaned. He practiced until afternoon fell into evening and only stopped when a disciple called, "Young Master Liu, Sect Leader Peng is asking after you."
Liu Sumeng nodded and sheathed his sword and followed after the disciple that called him. The crowd dispersed at his departure, disciples escaping the scolding glares of impatient elders. As he followed the young cultivator through the halls Liu Sumeng was almost expecting an invitation to another drinking session. But what awaited him when he entered the study was Peng Zhugen reclined upon a couch, clutching the injury on his stomach.
"...!" Alarmed, he immediately went to rushed to Peng Zhugen and knelt at his side to check the severity of the injury.
"Stop your fussing," Peng Zhugen bit out through his teeth. "I took a Recovery Pill, the bleeding will stop soon. It's not that serious."
There was sweat beading on a paling face and his hands were dyed red with his own blood. But he was right. Compared to the horror of the murder scene where Peng Zhugen's flesh and organs had been devoured by a cursed dagger, his current state could be described as rather trivial.
"What happened?" Liu Sumeng asked. He looked up and rose back to his feet after assessing that it wasn't fatal.
"You were right," Peng Zhugen sighed and leaned his back into the curve of the armrest, "I never knew that blasted child had it in him."
Liu Sumeng nodded. Of course, he was right, the same sequence of events haunted him in his previous life and began the spiral of chaos that eventually consumed the entire world. But Liu Sumeng was still surprised. Without the Organ Eating Dagger, he couldn't imagine Peng Jipei managing to even land a single blow on Peng Zhugen. "Have I overestimated you, Sect Leader?"
He received a glare, "I had a lapse in judgment. Don't you dare utter a single word about it."
Liu Sumeng hummed. What had probably happened was that Peng Zhugen had let his guard down in front of a fraught and distressed Peng Jipei. He found it difficult to imagine, but it was the only thing that could have happened.
"But there is something I must ask of you." Peng Zhugen caught Liu Sumeng's gaze.
"...?"
"Don't tell anyone about this. The world does not need to know about my family affairs."
"..." Liu Sumeng wondered if this was Peng Zhugen's way of showing his brotherly affections. Or was he simply ashamed of being wounded from he meek and frail Peng Jipei and didn't want to lose face? "Of course."
Satisfied, a sigh of relief escaped Sect Leader Peng's lips. "One more thing."
Liu Sumeng nodded.
A shaking finger pointed towards the desk. Everything was placed in neat and tidy order, from the brush and ink set to one side and books tucked in on the other corner. It was all organized meticulously except for a letter, that was left haphazardly in the center of the desk. "That letter. Please deliver it to Liu Suye at the fastest convenience."
Liu Sumeng remembered the rumors about this letter in his previous life. It was the infamous letter that Peng Zhugen had never finished writing. Though he had a feeling he already knew the general gist of what information would be in the letter, he was curious about what it actually said. And how Liu Suye would react after he received it.
He scooped the letter up from the desk and felt the low hum of spell woven into the grit of the paper. If anyone else but Liu Suye were to attempt to pry the letter open, it would simply combust into flames. Whatever secret was hidden there, Peng Zhugen didn't want anyone else to see it.
After double-checking the Sect Leader's vitals were fine and making sure that he wasn't going to suddenly collapse and die, Liu Sumeng bowed and took his leave.
And on that night both Liu Sumeng and Yuan Xuelan made their departure from the belly of the forest where the Hidden Mist Sect called its cradle.