The wooden floor creaked softly beneath Mo Tianzun's bare feet as he returned to the small inn. Outside, the sea breeze carried a salty chill, but here inside, warmth lingered in the walls, clinging to the worn tapestries and aging beams like the memory of something once beloved.
His heart, which had grown still and guarded for so long, skipped a beat.
Qi. Familiar Qi. Two presences—steady, like the old days—like pillars that once stood behind Lin Xuanji no matter how dark the sky above. The Liu Twins.
And another.
Jiang Fenglie.
Mo Tianzun froze, his eyes narrowing. A thousand memories surged forward. He didn't want to be found. Not by them.
Without a word, he turned and rushed up the narrow stairs to the shared room, clutching the folds of his outer robe tighter around him.
When he opened the door, warmth met him again—not from the hearth, but from the sight that greeted him.
Crown Prince Longxuan, his long hair loosely tied back, sleeves rolled up, knelt by the low table carefully arranging dishes. Steam from the hot soup coiled upward, catching the dim candlelight. The quiet, gentle hum he sang to himself stopped when he saw Tianzun in the doorway.
"You're back," Longxuan said with a smile that held years of longing in a single curve of his lips.
Mo Tianzun's breath caught. He didn't respond—just walked in, quietly sat on the cushion across from him, and allowed himself the smallest of sighs.
They ate together. Nothing grand—just a simple meal of fish soup and salted vegetables, but to Tianzun, it tasted better than anything the mortal or spirit realm could offer. Longxuan kept stealing glances, his foot brushing lightly against Tianzun's under the table. Tianzun didn't move away.
"Are you planning to run again?" Longxuan asked quietly.
Tianzun didn't answer. He just reached out and poured them both a cup of warm wine.
.
.
.
.
The bath chamber filled with gentle steam, curling like mist over the wooden tub as Mo Tianzun sank into the water with a quiet sigh. He let his head fall back against the edge, muscles loosening for the first time in days. The warmth of the water traced the scars along his shoulders—wounds long healed, but never truly gone.
He reached for the cloth, dragging it slowly across his chest, up to his throat, over his collarbone, trying to silence the ache lingering from memories that refused to fade.
Then—creak.
The door slid open.
He didn't have to turn. That scent—faint sandalwood and iron, like moonlight on a sword—was unmistakable.
Longxuan.
Mo Tianzun sighed. "You really have no sense of privacy, do you?"
A smirk played at Longxuan's lips as he leaned against the doorframe. "I waited all night. Thought you might've drowned without me."
"I'm not that lucky."
A few steps echoed—then the rustle of fabric falling.
Mo Tianzun's eyes widened just as Longxuan climbed into the tub beside him, water sloshing gently over the edges. "You—! This tub was not built for two!"
Longxuan raised an eyebrow. "Then you should've let me in earlier."
Their knees bumped. Mo Tianzun shifted slightly, refusing to meet his gaze. The water rippled, steam curling between them like threads of fate. Longxuan, ever bold, reached over and brushed wet strands of hair behind Mo Tianzun's ear. His fingers lingered.
"Twenty years, Tianzun," he said softly. "You left me in the dark, never knowing whether I'd see you again. And here you are—hiding behind wrinkles and wine bottles."
Mo Tianzun's throat tightened. "I didn't want you to recognize me. I didn't want to hurt you again."
Longxuan leaned in. "But you're hurting me more by pretending you don't still love me."
A pause. Then—Longxuan's hand cupped his cheek, pulling him into a kiss.
It was not gentle. Not this time.
It was a kiss born of twenty winters passed without warmth. Of all the letters never written. The words never said.
Mo Tianzun's hands trembled as he gripped Longxuan's shoulders. He tried to push him away—but the fight had long left him. Their mouths met again, slower this time. Hungrier. Deeper. Water sloshed again as Longxuan pulled him closer, their bodies pressed together, breathless.
And then—
Crack.
The wood beneath them groaned.
Another creak.
And then—
CRASH.
The entire tub gave way beneath their weight, sending both men sliding into a flood of warm water, soaked towels, and broken wood slats. Silence.
Soaked, tangled, and dazed, they stared at one another.
Then—
Longxuan snorted.
Mo Tianzun blinked.
And both of themburst into laughter, clinging to each other amid the wreckage of the bath like fools too in love to care.
Outside, the innkeeper sighed loudly. "I told you that old tub was cursed..."