44 In the safety of secrecy and solitude (1/2)

There was too much honesty in Yuan Xuelan's eyes and even if Liu Sumeng wanted to pretend he had heard wrong, he couldn't. So he nodded. A mysterious heat bubble within as he made his way to sit by Yuan Xuelan. Maybe he was finally feeling the effects of wine after a lifetime of drinking way too much. Fresh bandages, ointment, clean cloths and a small bucket of warm water were gathered by Yuan Xuelan and set down next to the stools. The younger cultivator sat behind Liu Sumeng and reached to peel off his robes. Fingers brushed against his neck, his shoulder blade, and his arm. Liu Sumeng suppressed a shudder.

The rustling of fabric filled the room until it became deafening. The drum of Liu Sumeng's heart was becoming unbearably loud as well. Water swashed and dribbled. Yuan Xuelan wrung the towel out of any excess before cleaning Liu Sumeng's wounds. They stung, but not as much as his heart. His fingertips felt numb.

Yuan Xuelan said nothing. He didn't comment on how the old wounds on Liu Sumeng's back had opened anew. Didn't comment on how his skin was flared, angry, red, and hot to the touch. Didn't comment when his fingertips fluttered across the scar of that the stab wound he got from the lake near Zu Village. The one that Liu Sumeng took in Yuan Xuelan's place.

Water was then wiped away with a dry cloth before Yuan Xuelan could begin working in the ointment. This way, the burns shouldn't leave a lasting mark.

Though it was the first time that Yuan Xuelan took care of him in the dead of silence in this life, Liu Sumeng had memories of the emperor doing the same. The emperor who silently dressed the whip lashings on his back. The emperor who took care of the ugly gashes left by the biting bind of rope, and the deep well of bruises that once covered his thighs and hips-

”...” Liu Sumeng shuddered at the memory.

Fresh bandages caressed his injuries and he trembled like a leaf in autumn. He peeked behind his shoulder to catch a glimpse of Yuan Xuelan's quiet, concentrating face. He's sulking, Liu Sumeng realized. And Liu Sumeng, being as crafty with words as he was, simply said, ”Xuelan, don't sulk.”

Yuan Xuelan froze and then narrowed his eyes at Liu Sumeng, ”Who the heck said I'm sulking?”

”You're quiet. You're sulking.”

Yuan Xuelan pouted. He was definitely sulking.

Liu Sumeng smiled that ever gentle smile, with eyes creasing only slightly and a dimple that threatened to form on his left cheek but didn't, ”None of this is your fault. So don't be sad. Don't be down.”

The dim light was there to mask the violent flush that rushed up Yuan Xuelan's face. He sputtered like a landed fish, ”You- I- Don't-! That's not at all-! What the heck are you even saying, idiot!?”

Yuan Xuelan took a deep breath and forced himself to calm before he said something that would take the smile off of Sumeng's face. He coughed to clear his throat, ”You say a lot of very silly things.”

”I-”

Quickly, Yuan Xuelan cut him off before an apology could be uttered from those lips, ”The Supreme Hunting Tournament is happening about now. You could have been there, you know? If you hadn't been so keen on coming here with me, you could have won.” He stared at Liu Sumeg straight in the eye. Liu Sumeng loved those eyes, the deep brown and shimmered and vibrated with all of Yuan Xuelan's emotions; his anger and joy as well as his sorrow. Xuelan continued, ”I wonder what prize they're giving out this year… Anyways, what I mean to say is that...you could have been doing something way more interesting!”

Liu Sumeng thought that Xuelan was now being very cute. He always had way more confidence in Liu Sumeng than he should, ”Only third place.” He said, remembering the events that unfolded in a previous life.

But Yuan Xuelan didn't believe him and rolled his eyes, ”Being modest doesn't suit you, Ivory Sword Saint.”

”I'm not being modest.”

”Yeah, yeah whatever. Anyways shoo!” A dismissive flickering hand was motioned at him, ”Go away, I want to go to bed. It's going to be busy and annoying for the next few days so I want to get a good amount of sleep.”

Liu Sumeng gave an obedient nod and retreated to his side of the room. The night was welcoming and calm.

The following day, he was left to his lonesome. Liu Sumeng had no place in the funeral procession, having no relation with the late Cao Hong. Though it seemed like his late-night drinking session with Peng Zhugen had worked. Peng Jipei was at the very least, allowed to remain for his mother's funeral and Yuan Xuelan didn't have to throw a fit.

”You don't have to stay,” Yuan Xuelan said to him in the morning, with a subtle frown upon his lips.

But Liu Sumeng shook his head. There were still things he had to do, ”I will stay. We'll leave together.”