In the safety of secrecy and solitude

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."

It was an answer that Yuan Xuelan was reluctant to accept but was even more unwilling to argue against.

And so Lius Sumeng went and got himself some breakfast, a pot of tea, and even spent some time outside to practice his sword.

"You'll irritate your injuries, silly boy," Huo Tang chided even though she seemed like she was having fun riding his shoulder as he danced and twirled. Liu Sumeng ignored her because he owed no one an explanation; that to him this was healing.

Perhaps his wounds might protest but his mind and heart both felt better. And when he was feeling soothed, Liu Sumeng decided it finally time to give their room a good searching. He went down on his knees to turn over and look into every nook and cranny.

"Just what is the intention behind your actions?" Huo Tang sat perched upon one of the wooden panels and watched him shuffle around on Yuan Xuelan's side of the room. He peered under the table, moved counter to check next to the wall and the bed as well. He felt behind corners and tucked his fingers into any cracks he could find.

"...A sign" was the only clue he offered to the confused and judgemental phoenix that watched him.

"And what nature of a 'sign' are you perhaps seeking? It appears as though you are crawling around like a silly clueless baby."

"..." He deigned that no response, much to the bird's chagrin. Yuan Xuelan wasn't a messy person, but he wasn't the tidiest either. Which meant he wasn't as meticulous with cleaning up evidence. Liu Sumeng was looking for something that might be a telltale clue to what the boy had been up to when Liu Sumeng was busy entertaining Peng Zhugen.

So he went over everything again a second time, and then a third and on the sixth, his fingers grazed something sharp when he groped the cracks underneath the bed. Scraping his nails into the tiny crevice, Liu Sumeng was able to fish out the broken tip of an engraving tool. Dark energy, though feint, could still be glimmered off of it.

Huo Tang flu to his shoulder on her tiny wings. "What a curious thing you have there. It appears someone has been tempering on a rather corrupted and evil thing in this very room."

Liu Sumeng held his breath, "Yes." This tiny shard of metal might just be what he needed to tie Yuan Xuelan to the Organ Eating Dagger.

Elsewhere in the manor, Cao Hong was dressed in funerary gowns. For the first time during Yuan Xuelan's trip, she looked peaceful to him. They held her funeral in one of the study halls. Her wooden coffin was placed in the middle of the room surrounded by her possessions and white flowers. One by one, her loved ones arrived to bid her farewell. There weren't many people, most of them were Hidden Sect Disciples that knew her when they were younger; from a time she had enough strength to leave the confines of her bed and smile at the youths that littered the halls.

Yuan Xuelan thought perhaps there should have been a well of sadness, a sharp arch that nipped at him after her passing. But instead, his heart was vacant.

And it wasn't because he didn't love her and didn't care about her. However, his Auntie was always a sickly and frail person, a person who suffered even from breathing. When he looked upon her death-stricken visage, tranquility didn't seem so terrible.

They were in a line to bid their farewells and offer her parting gifts, and for whatever sinful reason, Yuan Xuelan's mind drifted elsewhere as he waited for his turn. He thought about the low lick of candle fire that shined upon Liu Sumeng's skin, and the rugged texture of burns he felt beneath his fingertips. The way he suppressed his trembling and the faint flicker of demonic energy radiating off the Ivory Sword Saint's skin.

Yuan Xuelan's expression darkened. There was more investigation he had to do as well as prying. A strange flicker of emotions swirled within him. Slowly, but surely he felt like he was coming to understand the quiet and elegant Ivory Sword Saint. Which was why he held back his rage, a feat not even Yuan Xuelan knew that he'd be capable of.

Yuan Xuelan was coming to terms with the idea that there were many things he wanted to overcome or do for Liu Sumeng. Similar to Chen Anyue. But Chen Anyue didn't make his heart somersault and didn't make him flail like a baby bird. Chen Anyue didn't make his stomach flare with an unknown burn, didn't knife him with an emotion he couldn't understand or haunt him in his dreams.

He took a breath and exhaled. It was his turn to say his farewells to Cao Hong. He put his turbulent thoughts aside and walked up to her. But a glaring light caught his eye and he saw a small silver bell tied around her wrist. A keen feeling of familiarity struck him but for some reason, the exact memory couldn't be recalled.

Something flashed in his mind, blurred. It came with a headache as loud as trumpeting elephants.

Yuan Xuelan clenched his jaw and shook his head but his thoughts couldn't clear and he was left pondering over a mystery impossible to solve.

He looked upon Cao Hong's visage, the gray cast of death capturing a final moment of peace. "Sorry Auntie," he said to this corpse, "Sorry I couldn't come to see you sooner."

But the dead cared not for apologies and she laid there stony and cold. A chill itched down his spine and for the first time, Yuan Xuelan felt the gnaw of sadness murmur in his body. It was only after he left the hall, after he said empty words of encouragement to Peng Jipei and the disciples he couldn't even put names to, that the murmur grew into a loud all-encompassing roar.

Yuan Xuelan escaped to the far side of the courtyard and hid in the junction between the stone wall and a mound of rocks, carefully placed to mimic nature. And there, it was quiet because it was a secret place he once knew when he was a child. And in the safety of secrecy and solitude, Yuan Xuelan finally cried.