Chapter 122: Don't have your plans ruined

It's possible that the preparations for the feast will drive Bai Mi into an early grave.

It would be amusing for Xi Zirui, if she hadn't roped him into helping her out.

Everything is a little more informal in the Coiled Dragon clan than Xi Zirui would have expected from an ancient society, even one of spirit animals, so he and Bai Mi organize everything with the help of a few trusted servants.

"Anything is fine, just pick one of them," Xi Zirui says, getting up to his feet in a huff after Bai Mi shows him three different choices of silk drapes for the reception hall. "You can wrap everything in toilet paper for all I care!"

Bai Mi tilts her head to the side, her beautiful slim jade horns glowing in the low light of the lamps. "The what?" she looks at Xi Zirui as if she thinks he has finally cracked.

Xi Zirui groans and hides his face in his open palms.

"Nevermind," he peeks at the drapes again from between the gaps of his fingers. "Go with the red, it's festive and nuptial and goes well with Han Yu's colors."

Bai Mi runs her manicured fingers over the red drapes. "Han Yu's colors, uh?"

Xi Zirui rolls his eyes. She should know by now that's he's genuinely interested in her cousin.

"We'll go with red," Bai Mi says nodding. She calls one of the servants forward who pulls out the lid on a lacquered box revealing three different porcelain bowls. "Which service do you think we should go for?"

Xi Zirui thinks he's going to scream, that's what.

"Excuse me," he says, getting up from the table and leaving the Spring Water pavilion with no intention of returning.

His goal is to walk around aimlessly long enough for Bai Mi to realize he's not coming back, and make whatever decision she needs to regarding the feast's decoration on her own.

He's so absorbed in his plan that he doesn't notice the person in front of him until he collides with their chest.

A pair of slender hands comes up around his shoulders to steady him. "Something on young master's mind?" Han Yu asks, his lips quirking up in a smirk.

Doing his best not to list towards Han Yu's fresh scent, Xi Zirui pulls away a respectable distance and lets out a put-upon sigh. 

"His Highness' cousin is taking the planning for the feast very seriously," he says, leaning his back against the railing of the balcony overlooking the lake that surrounds every building in the palace complex.

Han Yu mimics his movements but he leans forward over the railing, admiring the placid waters. "Has young master perhaps bitten more than he can chew?"

Does he know how dirty that sounds? Is he saying it on purpose to torture Xi Zirui?

"I'm happy to show his Highness just how big of a mouthful I can handle." He throws his head back, chancing a look at Han Yu from the corner of his eye.

The smirk melts off Han Yu's face, replaced by the tight line of his lips and a dusting of read climbing up the long column of his neck.

Xi Zirui drinks in the sight avidly, savoring his victory.

Han Yu clears his throat. "What would young master's future mate think if he heard him direct that kind of comment at another qianjun?"

Xi Zirui edges closer to Han Yu across the railing, the silk of their robes almost brushing. He gives Han Yu a heated look from beneath the fan of his lashes. "I haven't met him yet, and he wouldn't blame me for the mind-addling effect his Highness' scent has on me."

Han Yu grows very still, his flush deepening and completely overtaking his smooth earlobes. 

Xi Zirui wants to sink his teeth into the jade-like flesh, make them even redder.

Perhaps guessing at some of the thoughts swirling about in Xi Zirui's mind, Han Yu puts some distance between them, sliding his body further down the railing.

"My beloved-" he starts.

Cutting him off, Xi Zirui lets out a chuckle. "Don't worry, your Highness, I know better than to compete with a dream." He brings his lips close to Han Yu's red ears. "A dream will never disappoint you, a dream will never say things that hurt or upset you..."

He turns around to face Han, his lips curling in a smug smirk. "Of course his Highness will never be able to touch his dream either, feel his skin or kiss his lips." Xi Zirui sighs dramatically and lets out a mournful sigh. "Nor fuck his tight, hot, hole."

Han Yu's eyes widen comically, his mouth falling open around a silent gasp.

Before he has the time to fully react, Xi Zirui pulls away from the railing and walks backwards from where he came, his hands clasped behind his back. 

"I'll see his Highness again at the feast," he says, winking at Han Yu, making his crimson flush darken.

---

The day of the feast arrives and above all else Xi Zirui is thrilled to no longer be planning it.

They've decorated the main hall in shades of red as Xi Zirui suggested, it looks bright and festive, and Xi Zirui doesn't understand why it took them so long to come to an agreement.

Xi Zirui himself is decked out in a gold robes with subtle black accents, to contrast and match Han Yu's black robes with gold accents.

The upper half of his hair is pinned up with a gold hairpin with a dangling trail, very reminiscent of a wedding hair ornament -- something that the keen-eyed guests take great delight in.

Coiled Dragon's heir has been spurning potential mates for such a long time, everyone is curious to catch a glimpse of the beautiful kunjun who finally managed to steal his heart.

Xi Zirui doesn't appreciate being inspected and appraised like a prime cut of meat, but needs must.

He's sitting at Han Yu's side on top of a raised dais, each of them sitting behind their own low table, overlooking the guests arranged beneath the dais as they drink and chat among themselves.

It's all terribly boring and Han Yu doesn't exactly look thrilled to be there either.

Xi Zirui manages to catch Bai Mi's eyes and nods at her meaningfully. They might as well go on with their plan now.

Bai Mi has managed to talk a distant cousin into making a pass at Xi Zirui -- they're both banking a lot on biology playing its part in making Han Yu see Xi Zirui has "his" territory and go absolutely feral the minute another qianjun threatens it.

It's not the smoothest of plans, and a lot can still go wrong, but Xi Zirui is at the end of his rope here.

In less than a month the Brocade Carp clan will come looking for him, and Xi Zirui needs a good reason to stay.

First, of course, he needs an excuse to leave Han Yu's side.

Bai Mi raises to her feet with a cup in hand and clears her throat loudly. "Beloved friends, your attention please," the hum of conversation dies down as she speaks, "Our future Prince Consort would like to thank you all for your presence by playing a melody from his childhood."

All eyes turn to Xi Zirui as he raises from his seat. "Thank you everyone for coming today, your presence humbles and delights me," he lowers his head bashfully, "I dedicate the song I'll be playing to his Highness Prince Han Yu."

He shoots Han Yu a coy look, who rests one elbow on the low table and raises his cup of wine to Xi Zirui with a smirk.

Xi Zirui makes his way to the side of the dais, where a semi-sheer curtain has already been prepared according to his specifications.

He sits behind the guqin with a fluttering of robes. 'Ok, Ni Ni, you know what to do,' he thinks at her, placing his fingers over the strings.

The mournful cries of the guqin ring throughout the room, in a loving rendition of Doraemon's theme song. Xi Zirui closes his eyes and moves his fingers to the sound of the music, letting himself enjoy the riveted silence of his captive audience.

When the song ends, he steps out from behind the curtain and bows to the stunned guests, many of which have tears streaming down their faces.

Han Yu is staring fixedly at Xi Zirui, his dark eyes shimmering with unshed tears, and his wine cup overturned on the table.

Xi Zirui gloats. Doraemon never fails him.

He's making his way down the dais, to stand by Bai Mi's said, which is where the cousin will accost him, when the loud bang of doors being forcibly thrown open cuts through the hushed conversations in the hall.

Standing in the doorway of the reception hall, under a canopy of red silk stands Su Xueyi, a bloodied sword in his hand, and murderous glint in his eyes.

His short black horns glint menacingly under the candlelight, but his cheeks dimple sweetly when he raises his sword up towards the dais, pointing the bloodied edge straight at Han Yu.

"Dragon Prince, I've come to take my bride back."