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Lead people not ideals

Liu Sumeng and Yuan Xuelan made haste for Wangyung Peak. 

It was quiet upon their return, as a now familiar tension was about the air. Yuan Xuelan drew in a breath, his face twisted into an expression of annoyance. "Let's get this over with."

At his side, the Ivory Sword Saint nodded, the way he reached over and curled his fingers over Yuan Xuelan's wrist was strangely tender. 

A questioning look was shot at Liu Sumeng and Yuan Xuelan's voice was accidentally terse, "What is it?"

"Nothing," Sumeng responded quickly, "you're right. Let's get it over with."

"Right," Yuan Xuelan frowned and rubbed the back of his neck, wondering just what was wrong with his own attitude. 

They had woken side by side, basking in the subtle dawn glow that slipped through the oiled paper window. Yuan Xuelan remembered snuggling up to Liu Sumeng's warmth, gathering the Ivory Sword Saint close to his heart and pressing kisses into his forehead.

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