In the city stood a towering tree, its trunk so thick that ten people could scarcely encircle it. Its blossoms were white as snow, its branches spreading like clouds, casting shade over every street below and scattering drifting petals through the air. Wooden plaques of prayer, old and new alike, hung all over the tree.
Yin Feixue glanced at Xue Cuo, then leapt lightly into the branches. With a few bounds he vanished from sight.
The tree was protected by a barrier, but it posed little obstacle to Xue Cuo. He sniffed, snorted twice, and sprang after him without conceding defeat.
One in blue and one in white, the two figures chased each other through the vast canopy and reached the treetop almost at the same moment.
Yin Feixue’s silver hair snagged lightly on a flowering branch. A faint smile lingered in his golden eyes. Leaning aside, he rummaged briefly in a hollow in the trunk and pulled out a jar of wine.
Xue Cuo twitched his nose, eyes lighting up. He sprang over like a cat, though still affecting a trace of reserve. Rising onto his toes, he tried to peer inside. “What’s that good thing?”
Yin Feixue deftly lifted the wine jar out of reach and turned away so he could not see it. Tilting his chin, he gestured lazily. “You already have wine. And yet you’re pestering me for this crude brew?”
Xue Cuo scratched his head. “Where would I—… eh?”
A moment later he slowly produced a delicate little wine gourd from his robes. Yin Feixue gave an unhappy snort. Shifting the wine jar to his other hand, he sighed. “Very well. I’ll just wait until next year and drink it myself.”
Xue Cuo looked from the small gourd in his hand to the jar in Yin Feixue’s. “Don’t be like that. I came specially to see you. Your Majesty shouldn’t be so stingy.”
Yin Feixue lifted his chin, both amused and irritated.
This little fool had come to see him carrying the scent of women’s perfume… honestly… it was too much. Yet he could hardly say it outright. His expression remained unchanged as he idly tossed the wine jar in his hand.
“You want to drink it?” he said leisurely. “Then trade me your wine.”
Xue Cuo looked down at his little gourd, then back at Yin Feixue. If it had been a magical treasure he would have handed it over without hesitation. But something from the mortal world… he truly liked it. For a moment he could not decide, and tried instead to coax him. “But Feixue, I’ve only had a single sip of this—ah!”
Yin Feixue flicked the little gourd with a flowering twig. His expression seemed a shade colder now, the gold of his eyes deepening. He slapped the clay seal off the jar and took a long drink. “Fine. Then come and take it yourself.”
Xue Cuo immediately rolled up his sleeves. “Good! I’ll take it myself!”
With that he lunged forward, striking with a tiger-claw fist. Yin Feixue had every intention of making things difficult, so naturally he would not give it up.
Both were prodigies of movement techniques, and both had studied the same supreme martial method. One was light and elusive as the wind; the other bold and expansive, equally adept in attack and defence. When such two people fought, the result was naturally lively.
The great tree trembled gently, sending down a flurry of fragrant “snow”. Humans and demons below, unaware of the cause, burst into delighted cheers.
Far above, the sky was clear and pale. Blossoms drifted like clouds. Cool petals fell slowly, whitening someone’s hair.
One long hand hooked around the wine jar while another tugged against it. Fallen petals gathered inside, lending the wine a faint, sweet fragrance.
Holding the jar, Yin Feixue felt as though he had drifted back to a night many years before… when this very person had once fought him for the same jar of wine.
“Your Majesty,” Xue Cuo said with a grin, “your skills aren’t what they used to be.”
“Is that so?”
Yin Feixue’s fingers slowly tightened around the jar. Yet a faint smile spread through his golden eyes, and little by little his strength slackened, as though he were losing.
Xue Cuo seized the chance and snatched the wine jar away.
Hands clasped behind his back, Yin Feixue watched him shoot up to the very top of the tree in a single bound. Xue Cuo triumphantly swung the jar and took a huge gulp, cheeks puffing round as he grinned down at him as though to say: See? I still won.
Yin Feixue raised an eyebrow as if conceding defeat. Quietly he stood beneath the branches and watched Xue Cuo finish the entire jar.
Suddenly a small dark shape dropped before his eyes. Yin Feixue instinctively reached out and caught it. It was a small wine gourd, cool and smooth. Looking up, he saw Xue Cuo holding the empty jar with both hands, looking slightly embarrassed.
“If you really like it, I’ll give you this,” he said. “Though the wine isn’t as good as yours. You’re the one losing out.”
Yin Feixue closed his hand around the gourd. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he cast Xue Cuo a sideways glance.
“I’m not losing,” he said softly. “I’m the one who gained.”
Xue Cuo shyly gulped down another mouthful, his round cheeks bobbing as he nodded at Yin Feixue, urging him to drink too.
Yin Feixue understood perfectly. He meant the gourd. The wine in the jar, however, he had no intention of sharing.
Amused, Yin Feixue simply tucked the gourd away without drinking.
Xue Cuo sat at the treetop and slowly finished the wine. Then he suddenly said, “Well, we’ve drunk our wine and caught up on old times. Feixue, why did you invite me here? What trouble are you dealing with that you can’t resolve?”
Yin Feixue said nothing.
Xue Cuo blinked and simply waited, watching him quietly.
After a long moment Yin Feixue finally spoke. His voice was low, softened by the wind. Perhaps it was the wine, but Xue Cuo felt a strange warmth stirring in his chest. “What makes you think I have troubles?”
“I don’t know,” Xue Cuo admitted. “But there must be some. The world is in such turmoil. Even as city lord you must have burdens you cannot easily speak of.”
He paused.
“You and I are brothers. If you need me, I’ll help you with everything I have. Even if it costs me my life.”
Yin Feixue fell silent again.
Xue Cuo found the sudden quiet puzzling. He could not tell whether Yin Feixue did not wish to speak, or simply could not. So he waited patiently.
Friends helped one another. Surely the other must be facing some difficulty. He thought about the sights he had seen, the city Yin Feixue had built, the obstacles such a city must face. He was so lost in thought that he did not notice Yin Feixue drawing close.
The man stood beside him, head tilted slightly upward. Blossoms had settled on his shoulders. His black soft armour was cold and hard as ice; his white robes soft as petals.
“The world asks things of you,” Yin Feixue said quietly. “But I ask for nothing else.”
“If you need me, I will face wind and storm with you.”
“If you need my strength, I will give it. If you need my aid, I will stand beside you. If you need me to act, I will follow your will.”
Xue Cuo was stunned, unable to recover for a long moment. The wine jar in his hand suddenly seemed to lose all its weight, and his limbs felt light and unsteady. Had he drunk too much? Otherwise, why were his ears burning and his cheeks so hot?
He wiped his face haphazardly, as if he understood, yet also as if he didn’t. This was the first time in more than twenty years he had felt like this.
Xue Cuo had always been clever, yet at this moment he could not make sense of the meaning behind Yin Feixue’s words. He could only nod dizzily, not daring to nod too eagerly, and asked, “Alright… but are you really okay?”
Yin Feixue scoffed and said lightly, “You fool.”
Xue Cuo scratched his head. How could he be a fool? He was the dignified eldest disciple of Qianyun Marsh, the sole inheritor of the Goddess’s Dao lineage. How could someone like that be a fool?
Seeing that his cheeks and neck were flushed pink, clearly a little drunk, Yin Feixue snatched the wine jar away from him, prompting Xue Cuo to try and grab it back.
He helped Xue Cuo steady himself and tucked the wine jar into the hollow of the tree. “Alright. We’ll drink again next time.”
Xue Cuo stared at the tree eagerly, but no matter how hard he looked he couldn’t tell where Yin Feixue had hidden it. Slightly deflated, he crossed his arms and nodded.
Yin Feixue said, “Come with me.”
Hooking an arm around Yin Feixue’s shoulders, Xue Cuo laughed and chatted with him as the two jumped down from the tree. Beneath it, little demons were dancing in a rain of flower petals, drawing many passersby to stop and watch. Larks sang in the air, while mortals played zithers and harps. The place was lively and bustling.
The two of them used a small spell to conceal their appearances and slipped into the crowd.
Yin Feixue said, “There will be a fireworks festival in the city tonight. The mortal Daoists and little demons put it together. You’ve probably never seen anything like it.”
Xue Cuo snorted. “I’ve been traveling all over since I was eight years old. I’ve visited countless places in the human world. What haven’t I seen—… huh? What’s that?”
Yin Feixue glanced over, tossed the vendor two copper coins, and picked up one of the items. Under Xue Cuo’s curious gaze, he leisurely opened the small mechanism box with one hand, revealing sesame malt candy inside.
Xue Cuo clapped enthusiastically. Yin Feixue deftly closed the mechanism again with a single hand.
Xue Cuo took it and imitated him, opening it with a flourish. He exclaimed in admiration, “Just an ordinary object, yet it can actually draw in spiritual energy. Interesting, interesting!”
Yin Feixue said, “That malt candy is preserved with spiritual energy. It can last three months on campaign without spoiling.”
Xue Cuo understood the formation with a single glance and began crunching through the candy one piece at a time, his eyes curving into a smile. “Sweet.”
Yin Feixue couldn’t help but laugh.
Most of the time he was bold and carefree; when ruling as king he was courteous and dignified, composed and commanding. But when he was with Xue Cuo, it was always when he felt the happiest and most unrestrained.
Nearby, there was a half-demon puppet show. Xue Cuo went over to take a look and discovered that it was actually telling the story of the Lord of Tiandu City eliminating the wicked and protecting the weak.
There were also matching little tiger figurines being sold nearby. The tigers had tiger heads and human bodies, with round faces and chubby forms, all looking cheerfully festive.
“Sir, these are the real deal! Just like our City Lord himself! They’ll bless your household with peace, good fortune, and long life!”
“Exactly the same?”
“Yes, yes, exactly the same!”
A hand stretched out beside Yin Feixue to compare them.
Yin Feixue glanced at the clay figurine. The great king stood immovable as a mountain, towering like deep forest peaks, like a clear breeze moving through the woods. But this little clay statue looked dull and simple, with a crooked nose and slanted eyes. Still, it was sturdy and honest-looking, with a rather kind and benevolent air.
Xue Cuo couldn’t help but laugh, shaking with amusement. “Alright, I’ll take ten.”
The vendor beamed. “Coming right up! I’ll wrap them for you. And I’ll throw in a booklet of anecdotes about the City Lord as well!”
Yin Feixue: “……”
Xue Cuo asked, “I can’t buy it?”
Yin Feixue took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and said calmly, “If you want it, buy it. But after you read that thing, don’t come asking me about it.”
Seeing his face as dark as the bottom of a pot, Xue Cuo found it even more amusing. Hugging the dolls in their various poses, he waved them around in front of Yin Feixue, then took out the booklet of anecdotes and began reading it carefully.
As he read, he couldn’t help sneaking glances at Yin Feixue. After the third glance, Yin Feixue said, “If you have something to say, just say it.”
Xue Cuo said, “Can I ask a question?”
“Just one.”
Yin Feixue: “…Go ahead.”
Xue Cuo coughed twice, clearly curious. “Did you really get lice?”
Yin Feixue stared at him without moving. Xue Cuo suddenly felt a little uneasy.
Then Yin Feixue moved with lightning speed, snatching the anecdote booklet from Xue Cuo’s hands and tearing it into fluttering scraps like falling snow.
Xue Cuo: “!”
The two of them refused to back down, fighting all the way from one end of the city wall to the other.
Late into the night, a blue flower suddenly exploded in the sky. After that, one firework after another shot upward, blooming into brilliant colours.
Xue Cuo sat in a tree, the dark night sky and the dazzling fireworks reflected in his eyes. He had not let himself be so carefree in a very, very long time. Today had truly been a joyful day.
Yin Feixue sat beside him. As fireworks rose into the sky and the whole of Tiandu City became submerged in magnificent clouds of smoke and light, he took out a silver-tipped brush from his robes. “Xue Yinbing.”
“Hm?” Xue Cuo turned to look at him. His picturesque features flickered in the shifting light and shadow, while the light in his eyes shone bright as the morning star.
“About two years ago, I wrote to Gu Ruhui to ask about something.”
“Oh, Xiao Gu-gege? What did you ask?”
Silence.
A moment later, a pair of fluffy tiger ears suddenly appeared atop the silver-haired young man’s head, twitching slightly. Yet he himself remained calm and unrestrained as he extended the delicate silver brush.
“Today is the third day of the third lunar month.”
“Happy birthday.”
Xue Cuo’s smile froze. He remained standing there, motionless for a long time.
In this world, no one had ever celebrated his birth. And he himself had long since forgotten the date of his own birthday.
