47 Like an idiot, los (1/2)

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.