46 Don't you know about personal space!?

Yuan Xuelan was running away. Hurried steps rushed after him and he felt the well of panic alongside the biting stab of anger. The halls were familiar though, so he dashed around the corner and out to the courtyard with the Ivory Sword Saint hot on his heels.

Liu Sumeng left the Organ Eating Dagger back in their room. His mind was focused only on chasing down and capturing Yuan Xuelan. Please don't hate me, he chanted desperately in his mind, but those thoughts could not find their place beyond his throat. He had done so well up till now. He had done everything to make Yuan Xuelan care for him, like him, respect him. And now this- Liu Sumeng couldn't allow something like this wedge a sea between them!

So he followed Yuan Xuelan. From the manor halls to the dimly-lit courtyard. And out they dashed of the Hidden Mist's secret cave and beyond the rumble of the waterfall. They ran and ran through the dense layer of snow. There was only a dribble of moonlight that spilled down through tree branches that trapped them beneath the sky like wiry fingers. Yuan Xuelan's dark robes seemed to melt into the night.

"Why did you follow me?" They finally stopped when there were only trees surrounding them with the eerie rustling of the wind. The flowing river and rushing waterfall were quite far now and Liu Sumeng had no idea where they were.

"I…"

"Don't you know anything about personal space!?" Yuan Xuelan howled at him and the branches around them trembled. Flecks of snow fluttered down.

"Xuelan, I'm sorry." He approached and reached out but his hand was slapped away.

Yuan Xuelan was wound up like a spring, "Sorry!? For what!? Just what do you have to be sorry for? For your annoying face? For me being pathetic? Or cruel?" His hands were curled into fists and Liu Sumeng wondered if he was going to get hit. He knew this face of Yuan Xuelan. He was familiar with the emperor and his flaring rage and the uncontrollable yang energy that swirled in his heart.

So Liu Sumeng did what he knew and knelt. Like how he knelt before the emperor who threatened to destroy his golden core. Like how he knelt before the emperor to beg him to end Xu Hexian's suffering.

But this Yuan Xuelan was not the terrible emperor. Not yet. So he only sputtered and screamed even though he didn't know who to scream at anymore. He was a fish out of water, a bird without wings. "Liu Sumeng! Get up right at this moment! Don't you-! Don't you ever kneel before me ever again! Stop this at once!" He grabbed a fist full of the Ivory Sword Saint's white collar and shook him like he was insane. This Ivory Sword Saint was insane!

Liu Sumeng did nothing and said nothing while Yuan Xuelan shook him. And the young cultivator was reminded of a man dressed in a general's armor who staggered towards him with too much blood loss. Yuan Xuelan released his grip from utter horror.

"Leave." He bit out. "I need you to leave."

"…" Liu Sumeng didn't want to leave.

"I'm tired of seeing your face."

"…"

"…" And even his words made him feel like he was beating a beaten dog. Yuan Xuelan felt exhausted and couldn't understand how he got himself into this situation. But he really couldn't stand the way Liu Sumeng knelt so desperately before him. Whose eyes, while pitiful, looked at his with pity. He couldn't stand it. He wanted more than anything to hate Liu Sumeng, and reject him with every fiber of his being.

"Sumeng," he said coldly, "do you want me to hate you?"

"…!" Liu Sumeng raised his head, an expression both hurt and shocked graced his features. His eyes widened and filled with an emotion that Yuan Xuelan hated to look at.

"…If you don't want me to hate you then you will get up. Now."

Obediently, Liu Sumeng crawled to his feet and hung his head. Liu Sumeng, who searched for him in the cold and brought him home with an outstretched hand, trembled lightly. But despite his vows, Yuan Xuelan could only repay kindness with mean words and anger. And for the first time, he quietly prayed that Liu Sumeng would one day come to hate him. "Let's go back. It's cold."

To Liu Sumeng, Yuan Xuelan offered no outstretched hand and didn't walk next to him to keep him company. Instead, he kept his distance and took long brisk steps to stay in front. One day, he thought, he would grow taller and shield Liu Sumeng from the cold gusting wind. Because apparently, that was the only thing he could do. For Yuan Xuelan was cruel and didn't understand what true kindness was. This was the truth that he had come to realize.

They returned, shrouded in a cloud of gloom. Not a single word was uttered between them.

...

A while back at the Hidden Mist Manor, a man clad in a full gown of black had sneaked into Liu Sumeng and Yuan Xuelan's conjoined room. He watched the two occupants flee in a moment of heated passion. The Organ Eating Dagger was left on the table and for a moment he thought about taking the blade for himself and adding it to his collection of deadly and cursed blades. He cut his fingertip and traced the lines of one of the bulges that littered the hilt. The bulge blinked open. An ugly eyeball swerved and stared up at him. All the other bumps opened up as well. The eyes vibrated and shook. When he removed his finger they all squeezed shut at the same time.

How peculiar. He decided to leave the dagger for now. Now that it was imprinted with his blood, he would be able to control the thing even from afar. Pleased, the black-robed man made himself scarce as footsteps approached.

...

The conjoined room that once offered a feeling of comfort was now the home of thick brewing tension. Liu Sumeng took the wretched dagger off the table and stowed it away in his interspatial ring. Yuan Xuelan didn't spare him a single glance.

They were both quick to hide under the cover of blankets but neither found comfort in sleep.

Little did they know, they dreamed of the very same thing.

In their dreams, they were at this very same Hidden Mist Manor. Yuan Xuelan was sitting on the steps, looking out at the splintered gate that hung open, creaking on its hinges. There was blood around them and blood and Yuan Xuelan's hands. The corpses were clad in purple and silver. Some of the bodies were rotting with wilted skin and thinning hair. They had to have been dead for some time already. Yuan Xuelan was grinning up at a waxing moon and Liu Sumeng stood quietly at his side.

"I feel like I've done something terrible," Yuan Xuelan gave a long hollow laugh.

The Liu Sumeng in the dream was a stoic and cold person who didn't privy any secret smiles or tender meanings behind blunt words. "Stop worrying about it."

Yuan Xuelan continued to look at the moon, longing for something mysterious and unnameable. "Sumeng, I feel as though there's…there's a bug within of me that wants to crawl out of my stomach," he complained. His unraveling mental state was ugly and bare but the Liu Sumeng at that time didn't seem to care.

"Don't waste time. Let's go home."

But even as Liu Sumeng descended the steps and headed towards the open gate, Yuan Xuelan didn't follow. He stopped and gazed back at the younger cultivator with a countenance that spoke of irritation. Yuan Xuelan was already taller than him but still have a more boyish visage, a young man who had yet to grow into full maturity.

"I'm tired so you should carry me back," he smirked.

Liu Sumeng was not impressed, "No."

"Sumeng. Please?" He laughed as he whined as if the sound of his own voice amused him.

Although Liu Sumeng did not seem pleased, for the first time in the entire dream a small flicker of pity flashed across his eyes. He walked back towards Yuan Xuelan and held out his hand. "Let's go."

Yuan Xuelan stared at the outstretched hand and then stared at the man behind it. He continued to sit there, purposely testing the Ivory Sword Saint's patience. "Carry me," he demanded.

Silence stretched between them. Yuan Xuelan continued to smirk and Liu Sumeng continued to glare. Liu Sumeng moved first. For a moment Yuan Xuelan thought he'd won but the Ivory Sword Saint swooped down instead and swept him up in his arms. Like a maiden.

Yuan Xuelan roared in laughter, "Not like this, idiot! Not like this! Put me down!" He kicked out playfully but still wrapped his arms around Liu Sumeng's neck.

"Be quiet. I'm carrying you." It was just the two of them that were left in the desolate ruins of the Hidden Mist Manor. The entire place was as still as a grave. Though, at that point, it was a grave.

And the two dreamers who watched this scene could not have more different sentiments. For Liu Sumeng, it was bitter memory of a time he wished he was less cold and more attentive and caring. It was a time in his previous like that went by like a cursed blur, where he marched into battle without a single clear thought in his mind.

And to Yuan Xuelan, this was nothing more than an odd conjuring of his mind, a twisted fantasy where both Peng Zhugen and Peng Jipei were dead and Liu Sumeng was a little playful but mostly cold. Yuan Xuelan couldn't understand the insanity that danced in this dream version of him, who has his tendons and nerves wound up tight. But he feared to become like him. Feared to become a violent beast trapped in his own suffering and emotions. Feared to become unrecognizably hating and hateful. Just what would Chen Anyue even think of this monster?

But Yuan Xuelan, in his tender youth, already understood that that monster in his dreams was undoubtedly him.