Snow drifted gently through the Bai Clan valley, muffling every step, every whisper.
In the quiet courtyard beneath the plum trees, Lin Xuanji(Mo Tianzun) sat alone again. Or at least, he tried to be.
But he could feel it.
Apresence—calm, persistent. Royal, but not cold.
He didn't need to turn around.
"You've been followingme," Xuanji said without looking.
Crown Prince Longxuan stood a few paces behind him, robes blue like twilight, hair tied neatly with a silver clasp.
"I wanted to make sure you didn't vanish again," Longxuan said softly.
Xuanji gave a dry smile. "Wouldn't be the first time."
There was a long pause. The silence between them wasn't heavy. It was the kind that held meaning—the sort that spoke louder than most words.
Xuanji finally turned his head slightly, glancing at the prince from the corner of his eye. "You're quieter than I remember."
"I have much to say," Longxuan replied. "But I'm not sure which words will reach you."
That made Xuanji still.
He closed his eyes. "Then don't say anything stupid."
Longxuan took that as permission and stepped forward, settling beside him on the wooden bench, not too close, not too far.
The plum blossoms above stirred in the breeze, one petal falling onto Xuanji's shoulder.
Longxuan reached out—carefully—and brushed it away.
Xuanji didn't move, but his lashes trembled.
"…You changed," he murmured.
Longxuan tilted his head slightly. "as your energy."
Xuanji smiled faintly. "Yeah. I'm worse now."
"I don't think so."
"You don't know what I've done."
"I don't care."
The words were so soft, so quiet, that for a moment, Xuanji wondered if he'd imagined them.
He turned, slowly, and met the prince's gaze.
There was no judgment. No fear.
Just the quiet, burning devotion of someone who had waited, wondered, and still… stayed.
"…I'm not who you think I am," Xuanji said, voice quieter now. "I've done things that would make even ghosts flinch. You don't want to walk where I walk."
Longxuan answered without hesitation.
"Then lead, and I'll follow."
Something in Xuanji's chest squeezed tight.
"…Idiot."
"your the first one who called me that."
They sat together in silence again, the space between them thinner now. Xuanji shifted slightly, and the prince's shoulder brushed his.
Neither pulled away.
.
.
.
Later that night, Xuanji stood alone at the pavilion railing, watching the moon reflect on the koi pond. His breath misted in the cold air.
Longxuan came up behind him once more, but this time, didn't speak.
Instead, he gently draped a warm cloak over Xuanji's shoulders.
Xuanji looked down at the cloth, then back at Longxuan.
"You always do this," he said, voice low. "Come close when I try to run. Speak when I want silence."
"You're the one who speaks when you want someone to stay," Longxuan replied quietly.
Xuanji's lips parted.
Then—slowly—he looked away and let out a soft laugh.
"I hate how well you read me."
"I've had time to practice."
"…Hmph."
He didn't say thank you.
But he didn't take off the cloak, either.
.
.
That night, the Bai Clan noticed somethingstrange.
Their cold-spirited guest—the one with the fire hidden behind his gaze—had sat beneath the plum blossoms with the Crown Prince until dawn.
And when they thought no one was looking, the prince had reached out—
—and gently tucked a stray strand of silver hair behind Lin Xuanji's ear.
Xuanji didn't stop him.
He only looked at him like the snow didn't matter anymore.