The snow had stopped, but the Bai Clan's valley remained hushed beneath winter's breath.
After the Crown Prince's unexpected visit, the entire estate kept their distance with respectful silence. No one dared to interrupt the quiet companionship unfolding between their mysterious guest, Lin Xuanji(Mo Tianzun), and His Highness.
The two of them could often be found together—beneath plum trees, beside koi ponds, along quiet paths—but never speaking loudly. Never laughing.
Their closeness wasn't loud.
It was felt.
In the way Longxuan walked beside Xuanji, half a step behind.
In the way Xuanji no longer flinched when his sleeve brushed another's.
In the way Longxuan would hand him tea without asking, always at the right warmth, always at the perfect time.
One afternoon, Xuanji sat with a guqin across his lap, alone on the Bai Clan's eastern balcony. His fingers hovered above the strings, uncertain.
Longxuan entered silently, a tray of red dates and honeyed ginger in his hand.
"Your hands are cold," he said gently, kneeling beside Xuanji and setting the tray down.
Xuanji's gaze flickered, almost sheepish. "I wasn't planning to play for anyone."
"You never have to. But I'd still sit here, even if you only touched the strings once."
Xuanji stared at him, quiet for a while. Then… he smiled. Softly. Rarely.
The melody that followed was slow and heavy with feeling. Notes rising and falling like a story untold.
Zhao Longxuan closed his eyes and simply listened.
And when the music stopped, he reached over and covered Xuanji's pale hands with his own.
"You always play like you're trying not to feel," he murmured.
"I've forgotten how," Xuanji replied.
Longxuan didn't let go. "Then let me remind you."
———
That night, a small festival was held within the Bai Clan. A quiet event, honoring the passing of the Winter Solstice and the return of longer days.
Red lanterns floated gently on the wind, and paper wishes were tied to plum trees by the children. The elders played quiet flutes. Dancers twirled in long robes.
Lin Xuanji stood at the edge of the gathering, hood drawn over his head, half-concealing his face.
Longxuan found him easily in the crowd.
"You're hiding again," the prince said, stepping beside him.
Xuanji sighed. "They're kind. I don't want to frighten them."
Longxuan gave him a sidelong glance. "You're not frightening."
"I carry a strong Yin energy, with this village with a lot of people who only has Yang and some Yin Yang, maybe I'll—"
"I don't care."
Xuanji froze.
"I see you," Longxuan said, voice softer now. "The man who laughs at danger but flinches at kindness. The one who saved whole village in secret but didn't want the thanks."
Xuanji's throat felt tight.
"You should not think your past makes you undeserving," Longxuan whispered. "But if I could… I would chooseyou every lifetime."
And then—
He stepped forward.
He pressed their foreheads together.
And whispered, "Ilove you, Lin Xuanji."
The world fell silent.
The laughter, the music, the flickering lights—all blurred into the background.
Xuanji stared at him, stunned. Words caught in his mouth.
"…What?" he breathed, barely audible.
"Ilove you."
Longxuan said it again, like it was the simplest truth in the world.
Xuanji took a step back, heart thudding too fast. He had faced death gods, soul devourers, cursed swords—but this?
No one had ever said those words to him.
Not once.
Not in the Demon Realm. Not in his two lifetimes of wandering. Never.
"…You're insane," Xuanji whispered. "You don't know what you're saying."
"I do."
"people will think that I'm not even human anymore with this Yang energy on me."
"Neither is my heart."
Xuanji looked away, but Longxuan stepped forward and pulled him into his arms.
For a moment, Xuanji stiffened.
Then his fingers curled into the prince's robes.
Trembling.
"…You shouldn't," he said, voice cracking. "You shouldn't love me."
"I alreadydo."
"…You're going to regret this."
"I never regret warmth."
The cloak around them fluttered as the lanterns above glowed gold and red, casting soft light around their figures.
.
.
.
Later that night, they sat beneath the plum trees again.
Xuanji leaned against Longxuan's shoulder, quiet, eyes half-lidded.
Longxuan's arm was around his waist.
Neither moved for a long time.
Then Xuanji mumbled, voice muffled against Longxuan's chest, "If you let go, I'll kick you."
"I wasn't planning to."
"…Good."
———
In the quietest corners of the Bai Clan, it was said that the Crown Prince smiled more these days.
And that the pale young man who used to look like a frozen ghost now leaned gently into warmth he thought he'd never have.
And didn't let go.