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The mask felt weird on his face. Xie Lian had changed it, replacing the full one he wore before with a half-mask that only covered his eyes and the bridge of his nose, and it was still a bizarre feeling.
It was awful before, because Xie Lian kept being reminded of the days he wore the laughing crying mask over his face, but now it was just... the former god couldn't pinpoint with words what he was trying to describe. He felt free from an encumbering weight, but at the same time he felt too exposed, as if someone might recognize him and his misdeeds by the shape of his mouth and chin alone.
Sometimes he ever grew afraid to speak, thinking the memory of his voice could still exist in someone's mind, despite how impossible that was.
But he didn't dwell on those thoughts for long, he never did. Xie Lian had a purpose in Yong'An, and it was to guide and teach the son of the royal family. There was no time to focus on the looming shadows haunting him in his mind.
Lang QianQiu was still young, and his mind was easily influenceable. Xie Lian, while wanting to be a good teacher for him, also wished for Lang QianQiu to learn not to hate XianLe and its people. In fact, he wanted him to see the remaining population of his kingdom in a good light, without the negativity that seeped through when anyone else talked about those who fled during or after the war. His family wasn't bad, when it came to XianLe, in fact, the king wanted to maintain and spread peace between Yong'An and the last living memories of XianLe; however, Xie Lian still wanted to be sure their son would never go against innocent people thanks to hearsay.
Was it a morally good decision? Probably not, since Xie Lian was following it with deceiving ways.
Not that it mattered. Deceiving actions to bring peace were still better than deceiving actions to bring war. Xie Lian knew it better than anyone.
Just then, to his ears came the sound of small feet walking on the wooden planks of the bridge to the pavilion, and a thrilled greeting tickled them. Raising his head, Xie Lian found the small figure of Lang QianQiu and smiled weakly, just the corners of his lips barely curving upwards; the kid was always eager to have his daily lessons, even if he tended to get distracted a lot during many of them.
Lang QianQiu, the former god realized very soon, was not really someone made to sit through long, drawn-out calligraphy, history, or mathematics lessons. As a prince he was also required to learn much more than that, many arts that were essential for him to become a perfect gentleman, but it was clear as day that Lang QianQiu would grow up to be a man of sword and battle rather than a gentle prince with a love for music and philosophy.
When Xie Lian tried to teach him how to play the qin, the only instrument he bothered to actually learn before dedicating himself fully to his cultivation path, Lang QianQiu somehow managed to snap three of the strings in one go. After that, the fallen prince asked the king if he could find someone more suitable that could teach Lang QianQiu a different instrument, and never tried again himself.
At least for the sake of his sanity and his eardrums.
But when Xie Lian would announce it was time for archery lessons, or to learn sword forms, Lang QianQiu was more eager than a hungry kitten presented with milk.
Despite his young age, he always stayed focused and progressed consistently, quick in fixing his mistakes and in bettering himself before the next lesson. Of course, Xie Lian was slow in teaching him how to fight, because he couldn't risk the only son of the royal family to become injured, but he was extremely proficient and talented. Maybe a bit too impulsive, if anything.
Unluckily for Lang QianQiu, however, that day was a calligraphy lesson day.
They boy was gradually improving, but he still couldn't write properly for someone his age. Xie Lian didn't aim to have him be perfect and flawless with his characters – well, technically he wanted him to, he took pride in his own calligraphy and teaching methods, the boy was just built for something different – but Lang QianQiu needed to acquire a somewhat good hand at writing.
He was a prince, and one day he would become king. There were many things a man of royal blood had to write and sign, and he couldn't have bad handwriting. It would cause people to look at him with disdain, and maybe some would laugh at his incompetency.
It couldn't happen, and Xie Lian was adamant in that.
«QianQiu», he called him, a controlled tone of reprimand hiding behind his greeting. The boy was too jumpy around the table, he could end up spilling the ink Xie Lian had prepared for him in advance. «Sit down. Have you eaten?».
He also had a very annoying habit of forgetting to eat his breakfast, and then being chased around by palace attendants. More than once the shenanigans caused by Lang QianQiu interrupted important lessons, which was unacceptable.
After Xie Lian got angry, one single time, something so shameful never happened again. Granted, Xie Lian got mad at the attendants, not at Lang QianQiu; he was a kid and would act like one, but they were adults living in a palace. The intimidation they received had been enough of a scare, especially given how threatening and mysterious Xie Lian looked dressed in black robes and shadowed by a mask, and no one ever interrupted their lessons from then on.
However, Lang QianQiu would sometimes still skip breakfast to go play outside before meeting with his Guoshi for the lessons of the day. He had to ask.
Stumped after seeing the calligraphy tools resting on the table, Lang QianQiu sat down in front of his Guoshi and nodded, with less enthusiasm: «I have», he answered, polite as always with him. «Guoshi, are we not having an archery lesson today?».
Right, the archery lesson.
Xie Lian shook his head: «You behaved very poorly last week, QianQiu», he said, stretching his arm out to grab a black brush that belonged to him. It had been a gift from the queen, after she discovered his love for calligraphy; a really kind gesture that Xie Lian deeply appreciated. «Not only you've been distracted more than usual during our lessons, you've also caused quite the trouble for your attendants. We won't be having any archery or sword lessons until the end of the month».
It was Xie Lian's way of punishing him without affecting his learning experience. Lang QianQiu was never punished by his parents, they doted on him quite a bit too much and ended up spoiling the little prince to the point of it being dangerous. Xie Lian lived a very similar life, and he learned from that mistake; kids, while they needed to be allowed their fun and games as much as possible, should also be disciplined accordingly in case they caused trouble for others. Whining and winning would end up creating an entitled adult with close to no perception of reality.
Xie Lian learned it the hard way, when he descended to help his kingdom because he thought he was in the right while everyone else was in the wrong.
Life had to have balance, in everything. Extremes were to be avoided, but freedom needed discipline, and discipline needed heart and logic. Spoiling a kid or preventing them from having anything or any free will were both bad.
A kid, especially one in developing age, needed to have both victories and limits. Only saying yes or only saying no were equally bad.
Xie Lian was slowly teaching the same lesson to Lang QianQiu's parents too, albeit in a much more concealed way. Also, his punishments were never unfair. Lang QianQiu caused trouble by scaring people away with his sword and breaking things with bow and arrow, so Xie Lian decided to forbid him from training with them for the length of time he found appropriate for him to learn his lesson.
Not to the point of hindering his progress, obviously.
«You will also avoid training outside our lessons», Xie Lian added, to make his punishment loud and clear. «I've prepared three books for you that I expect you to study during this time. I will interrogate you on those at the beginning of next month».
Lang QianQiu pouted, behaving like a kid would, but didn't try to bargain or complain. He learned it was impossible to do both things with Xie Lian, unless he wanted his punishment to last longer, or to be harsher.
After the one time he got himself a punishment that saw him copy an entire book on the history of Yong'An by hand, Lang QianQiu never dared talking back again. Of course, it was the same book he refused to read and learn during history lessons.
«What are we writing?», he asked, demoralized but not whiny. If he behaved correctly, Lang QianQiu knew his Guoshi would never make the punishment worse. He wasn't going to make it better either, but at least archery and sword lessons would be back soon.
Calligraphy was too boring and Fang Xin knew Lang QianQiu thought it. The boy wasn't making the mistake of letting it show too much again. His hand still cramped remembering how many times his Guoshi made him write the same character over and over until he learned it perfectly.
Xie Lian thought about it for a second.
He had brought a collection of poetry and history books for Lang QianQiu to copy from, so that their lesson could be useful in more ways than one. There were also a couple scrolls dedicated to the Heavenly Court in the mix, old ones that dated back to his first year of ascension.
He wondered if it could be safe for Lang QianQiu to copy from there, given his name being in the pages; Xie Lian had a different identity in Yong'An, but deep down he was scared of what Lang QianQiu could comment upon reading his name. Not enough time had passed for people to forget how hard and how terribly he failed.
Confused, Lang QianQiu tilted his head on one side: «Guoshi?», he called him, also a bit worried. «Why are you sad?».
Sad...
He wasn't just sad. He was still mourning, without knowing it.
Xie Lian grabbed one of the scrolls and slid it to Lang QianQiu: «I want you to copy and understand what's written in there», he said, authoritative as always. «Be sure to comment on what you don't understand or on what you find interesting».
It was an easy but effective way to keep him engaged in the task, and it would probably prevent him getting too bored and distracted. It was a teaching technique Xie Lian had been testing for a small while, and it seemed to be working.
Lang QianQiu even stopped yawning at the most "gruesome" tasks. It was a step in the right direction, for when Xie Lian would have to start teaching him about politics. Luckily for both their sanity, Lang QianQiu was still too young to climb that particularly steep mountain, prince or not.
For a while, the silence between them was broken only by the quiet chirping of bird and the singing of water around the pavilion, soothing sounds that Xie Lian found wonderful for the mind whenever one needed to concentrate on meditation or studies.
Occasionally, the noise of a small brush moving on paper was heard as well, as Lang QianQiu copied what he needed.
Xie Lian often allowed his eyes to wander on the sheets of paper being written on by the prince, and more than once he softened the frown on his forehead upon seeing the small notes he was leaving behind. His handwriting wasn't good as it should have been, but it was clearly improving, and Lang QianQiu's thought process was clearly getting better as well.
Other times he had him do a similar exercise, the young prince would comment scarcely and with just few words. After a considerable number of other lessons in between the last session and that one, there was a visible improvement.
By the time of two incense sticks later, Xie Lian decided it would be fine for Lang QianQiu to continue without him supervising so strictly, and the former official grabbed a book for himself, immersing his mind in old, melancholic poetry.
However, his hand yearned for a sword, it had been a while since he wielded one for a real fight rather than training with a prince in the process of learning.
Xie Lian could lie to himself and many others, by saying he enjoyed greatly the calm life he had gotten himself after saving Lang QianQiu from nasty kidnappers, but in reality he wanted to be back on a battlefield. Or, at least, to fight one or two malevolent creatures that would give him a challenge.
He was still reluctant, sometimes, remembering what his martial title and attitude brought to the people he loved, but deep down he was still a warrior. A soldier. A cultivator with a hand born to raise the sword against evil beings.
Reading poetry meant for the loved ones of soldiers and fighters wasn't helping his sudden feeling that something was lacking.
But he was thinking too much. Xie Lian very much enjoyed reading and writing. Despite his upbringing as a cultivator, he had been taught the ways of the royals, and thus still liked many other things that weren't a weapon. He just missed those things of his old life that made him feel good, that gave him the thrill he looked for.
Quite normal, if one might ask.
Three hours into that special lesson that didn't want to end – his Guoshi seemed adamant in dedicating that entire day to calligraphy and heavenly history – Lang QianQiu put down the brush for the first time. His hand was starting to cramp, after being forced to hold a brush and write for so long, and although he was too scared to ask for a break given the trouble he had gotten himself into, the young prince needed to pause for a bit.
He looked at his teacher with hesitation, fearing he might receive a scolding for stopping his task without being told, and quietly breathed a sigh of relief when nothing of the sort came. Instead, Fang Xin gave him a softer look and then nodded towards a square box set aside on the table.
Maybe it had been brought there by a servant while Lang QianQiu was focused on his work. He was so terrified of his Guoshi reprimanding him for not being interested enough in his task that the prince zoned out completely while reading the scroll given to him.
«Eat», Xie Lian told his disciple, eyeing the pile of paper sheets that had considerably grown beside him. «There's pastries and tea inside».
The tea had gotten cold since the servant brought the box to them, but Xie Lian didn't want to interrupt his disciple in his work. It was already a wonder that Lang QianQiu had managed to stay focused for so long, especially on such a topic. They could endure a little bit of cold tea, it wasn't that bad.
Careful not to spill anything, Xie Lian took out of the box the teapot and cups, and poured some tea for both of them: «Change your seat. Don't spill tea or crumbs on your work, I'll be checking it shortly».
As much as he wanted the young prince to focus on his work some more, they couldn't keep their lesson going for another three hours. Normally Xie Lian wouldn't stop it so soon, Lang QianQiu was supposed to spend a good part of the day with his Guoshi, but the royal family had organized some kind of event for the evening and they both needed to attend.
Xie Lian didn't bother inquiring too much about the event; he knew it was mostly political, and that it was also meant to be a meeting opportunity with a somewhat prestigious cultivation sect, but that was it. As a Guoshi, Xie Lian wasn't supposed to interact much with the guests, so he kept his interest at minimum. He had more important things to think about, after all, and being around so many people made him feel uneasy. Cultivators, especially, were people he didn't like going near to. Not while he was trying to hide his identity and the real extent of his abilities.
Nothing he could do about that anyway. The king wanted him as a guest, and Xie Lian would be there. Far from him to disappoint the one who gave him a roof over his head and a place to be a respected someone.
Happy to be allowed a better break than he thought possible – it was rare for them to eat pastries during a lesson, tea or cold plum juice were much more common things – Lang QianQiu eagerly switched seats and thanked his Guoshi when he received a filled teacup from him.
He thanked him again when he got handed the pastry inside the box, and started eating it cheerfully. It was one of his favorites, sweet and soft, and he would gladly eat it everyday as a snack.
«You don't eat anything, Guoshi?», Lang QianQiu asked, when he noticed Fang Xin was only drinking his tea in short sips. His aloof composure scared him at times; he looked like someone who never had the opportunity to have something sweet to eat in his life, and thus didn't know the offer he was declining.
Sometimes, Lang QianQiu wanted to ask him about his past, but he always felt like it was an off-limit area of knowledge. Fang Xin was a distant person, caring but severe, one who rarely talked outside their lessons and preferred silence and solitude. From the perspective of a child, it was incredibly weird to see someone act like that all the time.
He also never smiled, at least not smiles Lang QianQiu could notice. Behind the mask, his eyes never seemed to glimmer with happiness; either they were emotionless, of they let through a kind of sadness Lang QianQiu wasn't able to fully understand, one that could make him tear up if he stared for too long.
But sometimes, whenever he made him particularly proud, there would be a spark in Fang Xin's eyes, a hint of life. Lang QianQiu respected his master enough to love seeing that.
He didn't show much to anyone else.
«I will wait for lunchtime», Xie Lian replied, shaking his head. He didn't like eating sweets, sugar and honey reminded him too much of the happy days before the XianLe War. He never had a real opportunity to eat more candy or pastries, after his downfall. That taste on his tongue was only a reminder of how much he failed to protect those he loved and those who loved him back.
Bitter tea and salty dishes were much better for his spirit.
After their small break – Lang QianQiu surprisingly didn't make a mess on the table – the prince got back to work and Xie Lian picked his book back up: «One more hour, and then I'll check what you've done. If you have questions on the topic, you can ask them while I correct your work».
Nothing else needed to be added for Lang QianQiu to nod and bend his back over scrolls and paper again, the sound of an inked brush soon tickling Xie Lian's ears.
He wasn't ready in the slightest to be questioned about the heavenly officials of his time in the heavens, but learning about gods without the bias of one faith or another was a good thing. It helped in getting a clear understanding of what heavenly officials did and were, without being guided towards this or that specific god by someone who believed in one more than in another.
Of course, it wasn't exactly the best approach, since Xie Lian had given him old material to work on and new officials ascended every once in a while. He couldn't work with anything else anyway, Xie Lian had removed himself from the heavens and wasn't willing to get updates on the state of the Heavenly Capital.
After the hour went by, Xie Lian put down his book: «Stop», he ordered his disciple. Lang QianQiu raised his head, nodded, and put the brush away. «Let me check your calligraphy work. Do you have questions?».
As he was handed the various sheets of paper, Xie Lian noticed the prince seemed a bit nervous, so he reassured him: «You can ask about whatever confuses you on the topic», the Guoshi said. «No need to feel nervous».
«It's just...».
Lang QianQiu shrunk in his seat, unsure. His Guoshi had always been adamant in correcting his behavior when he spoke of certain things in appropriate tones or with disrespectful words. Even if he learned such things from his parents or other noblemen. The question he wanted to ask was specifically about one of those things.
«QianQiu», the former prince called him, tone hardening even though he didn't raise his voice or his eyes from the papers. «Stop doing that. Ask».
The severity in his voice made Lang QianQiu shrink back even further: «Why did you want me to learn about the Flower Crown Martial God?». He was scared of being scolded again, and it showed for sure in the way he talked. Fang Xin always seemed to get particularly pissed whenever someone spoke ill words of the kingdom that lost the war against Yong'An, and that god came exactly from there. «He... he's not a god anymore».
The last thing he read, after all, was that martial god Xian Le had been banished from the heavens after descending to fight the war for his kingdom.
In a way, Xie Lian expected such a question to sprout from Lang QianQiu's young and influenceable mind. However, despite that, his hands still tightened the hold on the papers he was examining, painful memories passing through his mind with the speed of a bird flying past. it was, however, surprising that he chose to focus on that part specifically.
The book spoke of many gods, the Heavenly Emperor included, and yet Lang QianQiu focused more on the now fallen Crown Prince of XianLe.
As Xie Lian flipped through his notes, really quickly before actually confronting him on his work, he noticed that Lang QianQiu only put annotations whenever he copied from Xian Le's story.
«I did not tell you to learn about him», he said in the end, placing the sheets of paper on the table so they could look at them together. «I told you to train your calligraphy and your thinking on that scroll. So let me as you a question».
As he spoke, Xie Lian stared at him in the eye, as if wanting to dig into the recesses of his young, still naïve soul: «Why have you chosen to focus on the Flower Crown Martial God, rather than any other god?».
That question stumped Lang QianQiu. To be fair, he at the beginning he wanted to focus on everything, learn something less specific given how he noticed the scroll contained old information. He wasn't that interested in gods and the like, being still too young to really understand what it meant to worship and pray for the wellbeing of his kingdom, but he had been taught some things that weren't in the scroll his Guoshi gave him.
Very loosely, since it was his parents that tried to teach him, in between his own lessons and their responsibilities as rulers of the kingdom, but still.
Maybe Fang Xin didn't actually wanted him to learn from the scroll, not as much as he wanted him to practice his calligraphy to develop a better handwriting, but Lang QianQiu's interest had been inevitably caught by the topic he ended up replaying in his head the most.
Since he started understanding basic explanations, as a child, his parents talked to him about XianLe and Yong'An, about the fall of the first and the rise of the second. His father seemed favorable towards those who ran from XianLe to his kingdom in search of a new home, young generations of people coming from the ones who saw the horrors of a terrible war, so he talked quite normally about them.
However, there was still some sort of contempt, some sort of weird feeling that Lang QianQiu could never really catch. With time, and after starting his lessons with Fang Xin, he stopped caring about his father's way of talking of XianLe. Not worth the attention, given how busy he had suddenly found himself in both mind and body with all the lessons and training he didn't have to worry about before.
«I guess I was curious», he heard himself answer to his Guoshi. «My father has his own way of discussing of XianLe, this seemed really... different».
As if the scroll itself came from XianLe. There were so many words of praise for the Crown Prince, none of which he ever heard his father say those rare times he mentioned the now fallen god. While he was still young, Lang QianQiu had grown enough in his mind to understand that.
«Different?».
Xie Lian tilted his head and lowered his gaze to the first sheet of paper. On it, in a neat but still in need of improvement handwriting, was written his heavenly name and his title. At the top of the page, written with smaller characters and crossed by a line going through them, was the names of two more officials. Lang QianQiu probably started with the intention of exploring the whole scroll, and then changed his mind. The young prince didn't have to spell it out for Xie Lian to understand.
«How come this seemed different to you? What surprised you?».
Lang QianQiu hesitated for a moment, not knowing if he should say it. He didn't want his words to come across as accidentally accusing or something like that.
Since no one knew where Fang Xin was actually from – he had never told anything about his origins or is story, not even to the king and queen – it was easy to misunderstand a comment or a question. Lang QianQiu would never forget the glowering light that shook him to the core when some noble asked his a very reckless question and he accidentally looked at his eyes.
«This... does this come from XianLe?».
«QianQiu», the former official warned him. «I asked you a question. I expect an answer, not another question».
There it was, the harsh severity of his master was back. The prince mentally scolded himself for daring to ask such a question even after being questioned himself, and looked down: «The Crown Prince is praised a lot», he finally answered, even though he was for some reason terrifyingly scared of talking of that topic. «I don't understand why. Didn't he cause the war?».
Xie Lian sucked in a harsh breath and tightened the hand that wasn't holding a piece of paper into a fist. He noticed the prince cowering in fear, scared he might get hit – Xie Lian would never dare lay a finger on him – and forced himself to calm down.
It wasn't the first time someone told him stuff like that. He didn't expect Lang QianQiu to say it, too.
«Xian Le didn't cause the war», the fallen prince answered, after taking a deep breath to rein in his emotions. «The war was already happening. This is a misconception spread by those who prayed for a quick downfall for him, after what took place as he descended».
His attempts at stopping the war had been completely futile. It was already there, already knocking on the door of XianLe. It only got worse when Xie Lian intervened.
«Then... why do so many people believe he did?».
«Because Xian Le, with his actions, led to the downfall of the kingdom».
Now that was something that couldn't be told with a silver lining. Xie Lian himself had to face the reality of what he caused, even if he didn't want to.
It was highly probably that the war wouldn't have escalated to much if he didn't descend. Jun Wu had warned him, after all, that meddling with mortal affairs would only bring disaster and devastation upon them.
What Xie Lian knew was that his intervention led his people to believe he could be able to save them all without doubts. When he failed, because the war had been too much for him to handle, because the Human Face Disease had been too impossible for him to get rid of, his people rioted and turned against him.
Just like Jun Wu predicted.
And with the new knowledge that the White Clothed Calamity had been targeting him all that time, Xie Lian was now even more sure that the war could have probably resolved itself if he didn't show up.
Either that, or his kingdom would have fallen anyway, but with way less casualties ad pain. Bai WuXiang only got involved because he wanted Xie Lian to suffer, after all. He wanted the Crown Prince to become like him, and for some reason chose to walk down a road that would ultimately led the people astray and against their previously loved god.
«He didn't mean for that to happen», Xie Lian sighed, moving onto the next sheet of paper. On it, beside the practice characters, he found that Lang QianQiu had written some doubts about the personality of the Crown Prince.
"Was he so arrogant because of how much he was loved?".
No, he was already like that before ascending. Xie Lian let the power get to his head more than it should have.
«Xian Le genuinely thought he was helping his people by stepping in. But he had been foolish. Fools can't see their mistakes until they're faced with them».
Xie Lian didn't see his mistake until his kingdom fell. Until it was too late to do anything about it. He shook his head: «His arrogance came from his strength. Xian Le believed himself to be strong enough to do anything he set his mind to, but he was wrong. He lacked that one particular strength he really needed».
«What is that?».
«Restraint».
No hesitation in saying that, now that he was aware of his own wrongdoings.
«He had it all, but couldn't restrain himself. He had to do something, anything, despite having been told it wasn't his war anymore. Xian Le cared too much for his kingdom, and his lack of ability to stop his own actions worsened a war that could have ended with far less bloodshed».
Anyone who believed a better story was only delusional.
Xie Lian moved aside the paper with the comment he shed some light on, and read the following one. "Why did people turn against him if he was so loved?".
A hurtful one, that made Xie Lian glad he was wearing a mask to cover his features. He himself asked that very same question, more than once, to others and to the mirror. At the beginning, it made no sense that all the people of XianLe simply decided he wasn't their precious golden child anymore. They all loved him so much, they all did so much for him, from when he was still just a prince to after his ascension, and yet... no one hesitated in turning their back when the time came.
However, Xie Lian was now beginning to understand that the life of a god was heavier in responsibility, and that their worship was fleeting at best. If a human made a mistake, it could be excused by other humans. Doing something wrong was normal for them, even on a monumental scale. There were always people who would be able to understand the human error, no matter how big and how disastrous it was.
A god making a mistake couldn't exist. Gods weren't human, they weren't subjected to the human nature of being in the wrong. Xie Lian had to learn on his own skin that people thought that with way more intensity than they should.
Unfortunately for all the people who believed the opposite, that believed gods could never, never make a single mistake if they were worthy of being called as such, they all made mistakes.
Not just Xie Lian.
But many people didn't know, or refused to learn because who would want to humanize the gods they worshipped? and when they saw their precious, beloved god fail them not just once, but many times one after the other, everyone forgot his victories.
It didn't matter that Xie Lian won XianLe's battles with his sword and his martial prowess. He couldn't save them from everything, and made the wrong decisions when faced with something impossible to solve. The statue, the leg of that poor man, many things happened during the XianLe War that made Xie Lian look like a bad god in the eyes of his worshippers.
With mortals, unluckily, such a fate couldn't be helped.
«Would you turn against a god if they failed? Answer honestly».
Uh...?
Why a question like that...
Confused, Lang QianQiu looked at his Guoshi; he couldn't see well behind the mask, but his eyes looked somewhat softer. Sadder, compared to the hard expression they had just moments before.
Still, he had to be honest, or his Fang Xin would catch on: «Probably yes», he nodded.
«Even if that god did their utmost to adhere to his duty and save his people?».
«I...».
Lang QianQiu was stumped again. Why was that lesson so difficult all of a sudden? Fang Xin never chose topics so complex for him, always saying he would teach him at an older age to maximize his understanding capabilities, and yet the prince was being faced with so many difficult questions now.
He didn't know how to answer that, no one ever taught him how to react to such a bizarre interrogative.
Seeing how the young prince was struggling to find an answer, Xie Lian sighed and raised his hand to stop him: «Sometimes, not even gods can control everything that happens around them», he said, sounding melancholic and angry at the same time. «XianLe had his people turn against him because he couldn't mirror their expectations. They wanted him to save everybody, from the war and from the plague killing innocent people, but XianLe couldn't do that. He tried, of course, he loved his kingdom enough to try everything in his power, but with the faith in him constantly dwindling and the increasing threat to people's lives, Xian Le ultimately failed».
A god was nothing without their followers. In fact, gods with no believers simply ceased to exist after a while, having nothing to keep them in the heavens. Even those who ascended after cultivating into godhood would turn to nothing, if people were to stop worshipping them.
« If you still want to believe that gods cannot fail, I wouldn't be mad at you. It's in the human nature to believe so strongly in the heavens. But – and Xie Lian shot him an eloquent look – I want you to understand that failure can sometimes be unavoidable. You don't need to accept it, you just have to comprehend that sometimes humans can believe in something that's not as perfect as they want it to be».
Maybe Lang QianQiu was still young enough for him to be influenced by Xie Lian's teachings about gods, but then again... he couldn't blame him or anyone else for wanting to believe in perfect beings. Humans had their hopes in their worship, it was understandable that they longed for something that couldn't actually exist.
But he was losing himself. That was supposed to be a lesson, not a way for him to dwell on past events.
«You did a good job with this question, QianQiu», Xie Lian complimented the prince, moving on. «However, your handwriting is still in need of improvement. There's too much of a difference between your annotations and your actual practice, and you've got some characters wrong».
A couple other sheets only had comments on what Lang QianQiu read, namely a horrified one regarding the Human Face Disease that was mentioned in the scroll and one that complimented the cultivation of the heavenly official when it got some attention.
Judging them not worthy of focusing on – though Lang QianQiu had been a good student – Xie Lian chose to move his attention on another question. "Why was Xian Le depicted with flowers if he was a martial god?".
A much more innocent question that didn't stray from the contents of the actual scroll. All the others sprung from both the scroll and the knowledge he had thanks to his parents' teaching. Xie Lian was glad to see the prince was able to follow the actual assignment after derailing a bit.
At that, he would have smiled if it was any other time.
«He was arrogant, but beautiful and gentle. People saw that in him, and their love translated in thousands of flowers», was the answer, spoken in a softer, mellow tone. «His impulsivity didn't change his love for the people of his kingdom. XianLe was a marvel to behold before it fell to the hatred of war and blood».
And neither the hate he received back. Behind the distrust he developed because of Bai WuXiang, the Crown Prince kept loving XianLe and its people. It was his home, after all.
«Guoshi», Lang QianQiu called, speaking in a quieter voice. «You seem to really care for Xian Le and his kingdom».
No one in Yong'An, not even his father, spoke so well and so quietly of XianLe and its god fallen from grace. It was a first for the prince, to hear such beautiful and yet melancholic words for both of them.
«Do I?».
Xie Lian waved a hand: «Don't mind the words of this master too much. I only want for history to be recalled correctly».
After that, they fell silent. Lang QianQiu didn't write down any more questions, so Xie Lian took his time to read through various other comments and to correct his characters and words he got either wrong or written in a particularly bad handwriting.
«We will continue to have calligraphy practice for the rest of the month», Xie Lian decided at the end, after stacking all the papers he had been examining and putting them aside. «I will have you copy from history and poetry books from tomorrow».
No more heavenly officials. Xie Lian couldn't keep giving him old material to work on, and he also couldn't risk his father to start asking questions on his origins. He had already been extremely lucky that neither king or queen wanted to ask him annoying questions as thanks for saving their son, better not to push that luck further.
He saw Lang QianQiu's shoulders slump at that; the kid probably hoped his good work could have convinced Xie Lian to make the punishment less harsh, but of course there was no way of that happening. He had to learn that actions led to appropriate consequences.
Satisfied with the outcome of the lesson, Xie Lian got up: «I believe they're about to serve lunch. We will have no more lessons for the day, so I will see you this evening. Be sure to behave properly».
That said, Lang QianQiu bowed to him and ran off, and Xie Lian left the pavilion himself to have a quiet stroll around. Attendants were supposed to tidy up after their lessons anyway, so he didn't particularly care of the neat mess he left behind. However, tucked away in his sleeves, there were both the scrolls talking of the old Heavenly Court, and the practice sheets Lang QianQiu had written.
Better safe than sorry.
Not at all wanting to attend that formal event, Xie Lian eyed the clothing laying on his bed and sighed. They were of his choice, of course – the king and queen gifted him many sets of robes designed after his own wishes and taste – but he still didn't particularly like to dress so opulently.
The weight of too many robes on his body reminded him too much of his days as a prince and a god, the different color didn't help all that much.
However, he was the renowned Guoshi of Yong'An, and couldn't simply turn down the invitation to that very important event. Not without raising far too many questions, at least.
So, with another sigh, Xie Lian removed his robes and pulled on the elegant set waiting for him, layer after layer.
White undergarments, as always, but then three other layers that drowned him in dark colors. A deep shade of blue and his usual ink black layered together made him look like someone who just stepped out from the night sky, and the gleaming gold accents and embroidery only added to the mysterious aura surrounding his figure.
Large, flowing sleeves overlapping with tight ones, and a long outer robe that trailed after him like a piece of heavens ripped straight from the deepest night. There was gold adorning him everywhere, heavy jewelry that was actually not that much, but seemed way too pompous to the eyes of someone who now preferred simpler things.
Even the simple pair of earring hanging from his pierced ears were to heavy for him to bear, despite being as light as a flower.
Different times for different memories, Xie Lian told himself after looking at his image in the mirror. Without the mask and clad in dark robes, he looked like a shadow of his past self, with heavier eyes and an unmistakably gloomier soul. Remembering the bright pictures of him painted in the scroll of that morning, Xie Lian almost didn't recognize himself in the reflection.
Bloodshed really changed people, it seemed.
Shaking his head, Xie Lian picked up his mask from the nightstand where he put it, and carefully placed it on his face, trying not to disrupt the simple yet decorated hairstyle he managed to put together by himself. He could have asked some attendant to do it for him, but the trouble of keeping up a mask on his face while someone constantly moved around with their hands so close to his head was too much.
That, and Xie Lian really didn't want people touching him. He preferred sticking with his own mediocre skills at dealing with hair rather than have someone put their hands on him.
After securing the mask in place, Xie Lian stared at one last piece of his outfit. He had been debating whether or not to add it for a while, now.
On one hand, it would surely attract more attention, but on the other... with those cultivators visiting, Xie Lian didn't want to take unnecessary chances. They were more knowledgeable that a common noble, and studied heaven and hell with extreme precision.
In the end, Xie Lian grabbed the veil and put it on his face, securing it under the mask. Sheer black fabric decorated with gold jewels, just enough to completely conceal his features and still allow him to participate in the banquet.
High collar, mask, veil... Xie Lian pulled down his wrist coverings even more, a silent plea for RuoYe to stay put for the entire night, and only after looking at himself thoroughly in the mirror and deciding he was completely, fully unrecognizable even to the most expert cultivator eye did he step out of his personal chambers.
He also made sure to have the cold sword FangXin at his side. Xie Lian never really carried it with him whenever he was invited to some event or celebration – foreign nobles could easily be scared by a imposing figure walking among them with such a terrifying weapon – but with cultivators in the picture he wanted to keep it.
Plus, it was nice to remind people that he wasn't just any other Guoshi. He didn't want to be approached all that much, and FangXin had that freezing aura of intimidation around it that did the job.
After all, it was a sword drenched in the blood of a god.
«Guoshi!».
Hearing a young voice call him, Xie Lian turned around and watched as a neatly dressed Lang QianQiu walked towards him, a big smile shining on his face. He looked so regal, clad in red, white and gold, but the view caused Xie Lian's heart to jump in his tightening chest.
For a very brief moment, on the figure of the Yong'An prince another one overlapped, with an equally big smile but amber eyes and ebony hair.
«QianQiu», he greeted him back, shaking his head to let the memory of his young self go away. «How come you're not with your parents? The banquet is about to start».
The prince averted his gaze, shy all of a sudden: «They told me I could go with you», he said, now feeling as if he was being a bit too impertinent. «As your disciple».
Xie Lian couldn't blame the royals for that decision. It was always a mean to show the pride of a kingdom, having a renowned and powerful Guoshi as the guide for the Crown Prince. The king and queen wanted to flaunt their privilege over the nobles they invited, as well as demonstrate their power. As Fang Xin, the former heavenly official was now a well-known name in the surrounding territories.
Smart move, having him accompany the prince to the banquet.
«Very well», he nodded at the youngster in front of him, the jewels on his veil jingling with the movement. «We shall go together, then».
Answering to that with a huge smile, Lang QianQiu eagerly nodded as well and then moved to Xie Lian's side, careful to avoid the one where FangXin was hanging. The kid seemed to hate that sword, under the admiration he had for its craftsmanship, and was scared to go against it during their trainings.
Understandably so, given the origins of the weapon, but Lang QianQiu needed to overcome that fear as soon as possible. A Crown Prince, and a warrior no less, couldn't become scared when faced with a weapon.
One could fear the name, but if necessity called, that same one still had to fight it.
That it would end up in victory or defeat was up to the challengers.
When Xie Lian and Lang QianQiu reached the great hall of the royal palace, the place was already swarmed with esteemed guests, all sitting down at the long table prepared for the banquet. One attendant greeted them at the entrance, bowing respectfully at Xie Lian and deeply at the prince, before announcing their arrival.
«Crown Prince Lang QianQiu and Guoshi Fang Xin have arrived!».
Doing his best not to grimace at the sudden silence that fell on the hall, Xie Lian ignored all the eyes zeroing in onto him and walked to his place at the table, silently inviting Lang QianQiu to do the same. The kid didn't get as much attention – some nobles of course commented on how much he'd grown and how good it would be to have their families betrothed – but nearly all the people present stared at him as he sat down.
Xie Lian did his best to not mind the attention, although one cultivator in particular caught his eye. Clad in all black with his hair hiding under a hat that made him look out of place with the clothing style of everyone else, he was clearly a wandering cultivator. Which was weird, because very rarely royal courts would welcome wanderers under their roof, preferring to stick with much safer sects and clans.
He stared at him from behind the mesh covering the eye-holes in his mask, trying to study his behavior, but he was too calm and composed to get something useful.
In the end, interest piqued, he spoke to him: «I've never seen robes like yours around here», he tried to break the ice. «Did you come from far away?».
The man moved his eyes onto the famed Guoshi of Yong'An, and nodded despite the tickling sense of dread that washed over him for an instant: «I did, actually», he replied politely. «My many travels in search of malicious demons to kill brought me to the cultivation sect here today, and I was invited alongside them. I've never seen these lands before».
Xie Lian nodded, interested. He didn't miss the swift, almost unnoticeable way the man's eyes roamed up and down to take in as much as possible. As disrespectful as it might sound, his first thought was that the man in front of him was a better cultivator than many of the people present could ever hope to be. Maybe only Lang QianQiu could surpass him.
Well, except for himself, but very few in the world could take on a god – or a banished one – and live to tell the tale. Xie Lian might be hindered by his cursed shackles, but his strength was still there, and his cultivation was still fierce.
«You don't have a family or a partner?», he asked after a brief pause, curious to know more about the mysterious cultivator. «You've traveled really far».
«No family», was the response, after a cup of fragrant liquor. «They've unfortunately been killed by demons when I was still a child».
There was no change in the Guoshi's posture even following that statement, only a barely noticeable flicker of his fingers. If not even that could shake him, the cultivator suppressed a shiver. While being a guest in the sect, he often heard stories of the Guoshi of Yong'An, but never fully believed them. No man, he thought, could really be that cold or that skilled in hiding emotions, and yet...
Fang Xin was akin to a living statue, able to talk and express himself, but hard to read and seemingly impossible to crack open bare-handed.
The mask and veil covering his face didn't help, in fact, they only added to the threatening aura of severity around him.
He huffed out a brief laugh: «I do have a partner, though. A husband, in fact».
«Husband?».
The cultivator shot him a look: «Have you got an issue with that?».
Of course, he regretted speaking in such a tone immediately after opening his mouth, given how much colder the atmosphere around the Guoshi became, but luckily it only lasted for a second. In fact, instead of replying with a snappy comment or reprimanding him on his impertinence – and with reason – the Guoshi only shook his head and moved a hand, as if to encourage him to speak more.
«I apologize for that. I've met quite the number of disrespectful people in my travels, and I guess the habit of putting them in their place must have stuck with me». Nasty people, all of them. Some ever refused to let him work against demons in peace after discovering he was married to a man, to the point of putting their own lives at risk rather than accepting a cut-sleeve cultivator as their savior.
What a bunch of delusional individuals, hoping the world could operate only on their ideas. Some even called him shameless, but he just told them that shamelessness was only what they were using to spit on his relationship.
No point in arguing with those kind of ignorant anyway.
«Skilled cultivator, my husband. He's able store away guardian spirits and use them as aid in his battles. We've seen a fair share of troubles in our lives».
That goddamn giant snake included.
Storing away spirits was certainly a feat. Xie Lian had never heard of such a technique, but the cultivation world was so vast and variegated that it wasn't unbelievable, even for a diligent learner like him. Probably not even his Guoshi knew about all types of cultivation.
From there, the conversation shifted to much lighter topics, until it died down when the cultivator was called by someone else and Xie Lian focused on eating the delicacies served at the banquet. He realized he forgot to ask for the man's name, but didn't care too much about it.
He wasn't a cultivator aiming for immortality, as far as Xie Lian deduced from talking to him, so there wasn't a chance they might meet again in the future given he was a wanderer and also had a husband. At some point he would simply retire and live in his far away home.
Knowing his name made no difference.
When food stopped being served and the banquet turned into a bunch of influential people drinking and talking about trivial and important matters at once, Xie Lian took it as his cue to get up and away from the crowd.
As polite as he wanted to be for the king to leave a good impression on his guests, he was tired of being surrounded by a chattering mass of people. Many of them also stared at him for the entire duration of the banquet, and the only reason Xie Lian didn't snap and ask them to stop was to keep everyone satisfied with the visit in Yong'An. Plus, it added to the image of an unapproachable Guoshi the majority of those guests had of him, and it only served a good purpose.
Admittedly, it had been fun to watch how even the most annoying and most persistent of those who stared at him cowered in terror when Xie Lian walked past him and he felt the chilling aura of FangXin in his soul.
Not a behavior he would have had as a prince, admittedly, but Xie Lian had had enough of people being so rude towards him. One thing was to share gossip behind his back, another was to continuously stare at him until he became uncomfortable.
«Your Highness», he bowed in front of the king. «May this one take his leave?».
«Fang Xin! You won't stay for longer?».
Xie Lian grimaced under the veil, but otherwise showed no emotions: «Only if His Highness wishes. This one doesn't fare well with crowds».
He knew he was only moments away from some cultivators getting too curious and up in his personal space. A couple of them already tried to approach as he walked towards the king. Enough was enough, even for someone who used to be perfectly accustomed to big crowds and noisy people. He was careful ad skilled in hiding himself, but still didn't want to be found out by accident.
The king nodded: «As you wish, Fang Xin», he told him, his normally booming voice a lot calmer when he talked to the Guoshi. That man, as loyal and calm as he was, always gave him the chills. It was a real relief he was a good person, the king couldn't even imagine having him as an enemy. «But I will see you have a meal with us, tomorrow».
«Of course», Xie Lian bowed respectfully.
At least with that, the king knew what he was doing. Which meant, unfortunately, that Xie Lian needed to work around that issue and make his lesson with Lang QianQiu shorter, but that was a problem for the following day.
When he stepped out of the great hall, after dodging a couple more cultivators that seemed a bit too interested in talking to him – and a bit too drunk, too – Xie Lian almost took a sigh of relief.
Almost.
His newfound peace was immediately interrupted by the sight of another cultivator, that time someone from the visiting sect, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed on his chest. He seemed calm, eyes closed and apparently relaxed, but when Xie Lian tried to walk past he caught his attention by calling him by his title.
«Guoshi Fang Xin», the cultivator greeted. «What a great honor».
The former Crown Prince didn't miss how the cultivator avoided bowing to him, something anyone else would have done out of either respect or simply manners. He didn't mind, though; complaining about something so trivial could bring him troubles that he had no intention to face.
So, he nodded his head in acknowledgement: «What caused this approach?», he asked, not caring for manners himself. If the man wanted to be straightforward, he would be too. «I've barely seen the young master at the banquet».
Young master indeed, compared to Xie Lian's age. In fact, the cultivator didn't seem to be older than twenty, though he didn't seem one who just left behind his junior status to become a senior. Xie Lian couldn't see too well past the walls built up by the man, not without putting at least a bit of effort into it, yet he could grasp with no mistake that he wasn't older than he looked.
Not by much, at least.
«I try to stay away from big crowds», was the witty response, said with a slight smirk. «I understand it must be the same for Guoshi».
Otherwise, why leave so soon? Something as important and highly regarded shouldn't leave formal events with so much eagerness, after all.
If Xie Lian caught the slight note of mocking accusation, he let it slide. He wasn't in the mood for a fight, not even one with words. Insolent people weren't worth his anger anyway.
So, he pressed his lips into a thin line behind the veil, and then spoke: «May I have the name of the young master?», he inquired, polite but stern in his tone. «Such a conversation cannot be pursued if ignorance riddles it».
He may or may not be also talking about his ignorance when talking to authorities. Especially to someone that was under the golden protection of the king and queen.
The cultivator widened his grin: «My family name is Jian. You can refer to me as young master, I don't disclose my given name easily».
What an insolent young man...!
If Xie Lian cared a little bit more about propriety, he would have already reported him to the head of his sect for such an unacceptable behavior. Talking with so much freedom to someone not only older than him, but also in a higher position... either he had been taught badly, or he chose to disregard his teachings. Given by the impeccable behavior of the other cultivators at the banquet, Xie Lian gravitated towards the latter.
«Young master Jian», Xie Lian still said, swallowing his indignation. «Why have you approached me? I don't have much time to waste in chattering».
So the snake didn't want to spit out his venom. That was fine, the young master was mostly driven by curiosity. He half-expected the Guoshi to strike him where he stood for his insolence; that they were still talking was a delightful surprise.
«I was simply wondering», he shrugged, eyes getting drawn to the glacial sword at Fang Xin's side. «You are such a beloved someone here at the king's court, and yet you bring with you a weapon so malicious. One might ask themselves what kind of cultivation the master is teaching his disciple».
«You really have no shame, young master», Xie Lian spat out, now genuinely annoyed. Maybe he would report him, after all. A good slap of reality in his face might help with the arrogant behavior and the disrespectful talk. «Your strong cultivation is by no means an excuse for you to take so many liberties when talking to an elder».
It was obvious that the young master was someone incredibly skilled, but skills and strength didn't give the right to freely disrespect. Or, in that case, to accuse.
The former god gritted his teeth, and yet managed to keep his voice composed: «I have acquired this weapon following a particularly gruesome hardship», he explained, unwilling to give away any hints that may endanger the reputation of Yong'An. Of course, the cultivator wasn't only curious; big cultivation sects like his always wanted to expand tJianr influence, as a mean to have more territories to hunt in and more support, and what easier move than to spread slander in order to gain influence?
«Your curiosity is shadowed by your ill intentions, and yet you'll gain nothing. My cultivation is based on abstinence, and is not an uncommon one to follow, although its popularity among young masters has decreased».
Straight to the point. Xie Lian's eyes shone with satisfaction upon seeing the cultivator in front of him lose some of his smugness.
«Cultivation of abstinence... what a strange path to take for someone so charming».
Xie Lian put his hands into his sleeves after flicking them: «Don't cross your boundaries more than you already did», he warned him, getting rid of his aloof appearance all of a sudden. Taken aback by the abrupt shift, the young master stiffened his posture and instinctively tried to take a step back, forgetting his shoulders were against the wall. «If you don't have clarity of mind, don't push your shortcomings onto others».
With that, he shot him a glare he couldn't see, and turned his back: «Young master Jian, if you dare approach me again with such lacking behavior, you will understand the real maliciousness of my blade». Xie Lian didn't even bid him goodnight or gave a goodbye after saying those harsh words, and instead walked away as if the boasting cultivator was nothing but a fly on the wall.
Never, in his life, he had been disrespected so openly while holding an unquestioned position of power. He was already falling from grace when the people of XianLe adopted similar contempt and impoliteness towards him, so he didn't count that.
Normally, those were questions people asked behind his back, theories that he didn't care about debunking. If they wanted to be scared of him, they could do so in the shadows, without bringing Yong'An and its rulers into the matter.
Xie Lian couldn't exactly allow something like that to happen, given his precarious position thanks to his hidden identity.
It was still unbelievable that a child like that young master had the guts to act in such a way.
Honestly, when Xie Lian was back to his chambers and was finally able to take off veil and mask, he had to color himself impressed.
Too bad that cultivator would not be around for long, he wasn't focused enough to attain immortality. Not with that attitude, anyway. At most a longer life, unless he focused more on what mattered.
Eh, what a waste of good thoughts.
Drained, Xie Lian locked the door behind him with a simple talisman – no one would dare enter anyway, but he felt safer like that – and slowly undressed, taking off jewelry and heavy layers of clothing with many sighs of relief.
Only after slipping into comfortable night clothes and laying in bed, hair fanning out in all directions, did he finally tell his mind to stop being loud and let him rest.
After all, he had his lessons with Lang QianQiu in the morning.
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