It was easy to imagine that, from head to toe, both wearing and removing it was no simple task. However, as the esteemed crown prince, naturally he needn’t do anything himself. He only had to stand and open his arms wide in that refreshing, fragrant chamber and chat with Feng Xin while he waited for his personal attendant Mu Qing to help him remove layer after layer of the God-Pleasing costume.
The outer white robe of the God-Pleasing costume was of high quality—the pattern of the thread was exquisite and detailed, and the fringes were sewn with intricate light golden patterns, elegant but not frivolous. In comparison, the black martial gi of the demon costume was like the difference between heaven and earth. Mu Qing himself hadn’t removed his black gear yet, his hands full with the God-Pleasing costume he had removed from Xie Lian. His fingers twitched, imperceptibly stroking the material of that white robe.
Next to him, Xie Lian removed the golden crown, letting his long hair loose as he sat down on the edge of his sandalwood bed. He kicked off his snow-white boots and waited for someone to bring him fresh clothes. He waited for a bit but noticed that Mu Qing wasn’t moving, so he tilted his head.
He asked, “What’s wrong?”
Mu Qing quickly snapped out of it and replied, “The costume seems dirty in some places.”
Xie Lian hummed thoughtfully and said, “Bring it over and let me see?”
Sure enough, the snow-white attire was marked by two distinct little black handprints. Xie Lian took a look and remarked, “They’re probably from that little kid who fell from the sky. He was grabbing on to me and wouldn’t let go. The child’s face was wrapped in bandages, so maybe he had taken a tumble elsewhere or something. Feng Xin, did you check him out?”
Feng Xin was just wrapping up the sword and long saber used during the God-Pleasing performance, and he replied gloomily, “No. I took him out of the palace and was about to take a look at his face, as you asked, but he kicked me in the shin! It actually fucking hurt.”
Xie Lian fell over on the bed laughing, pointing at him. “It must be because you’re so mean. Otherwise, why didn’t he kick me but did kick you?”
“I wasn’t mean!” Feng Xin cried. “That damn kid ran away so quick, it was like he was possessed by the devil or something. If he hadn’t, I would’ve picked him up upside down and shook until he cried from fright.”
Mu Qing turned the white robe over in his hands. “I hope that kid isn’t a beggar—he’s so dirty. A simple grab left black prints like these. Your Highness, the God-Pleasing costume can’t be dirty. Isn’t that another bad omen?”
Xie Lian stayed lying on the bed, and he casually grabbed a book from the headboard and used it to cover half of his face. “Three times around the capital—my good name’s already going down in history with that incredible record. If it’s dirty, it’s dirty. Just wash it.”
After a pause, Mu Qing replied quietly, “I will do my best to be careful when I wash it.”
Xie Lian flipped through the book and came to a page illustrating the art of the saber, and he remembered the vigorous sparring earlier that day onstage. He smiled.
“Mu Qing, you fought well onstage today.”
Mu Qing’s shoulders stiffened.
Xie Lian continued, “It was only today that I discovered you’re much more skilled with the saber than you are with the sword.”
Mu Qing’s face relaxed, and he turned around. There was even a little smile playing on his lips. “Really?”
“Yeah!” Xie Lian answered. “But you might’ve been too hasty. Swinging a saber isn’t like swinging a sword. Look here…”
The moment the topic shifted to martial arts, Xie Lian became highly enthusiastic—even more possessed than the State Preceptors playing cards. He jumped off the bed without even putting on shoes, demonstrating his point on the spot using his hand as an imaginary saber. Mu Qing wore a complicated expression, but after Xie Lian demonstrated a few moves, he started to watch seriously. Feng Xin, on the other hand, swung the now-properly-wrapped long saber and chased Xie Lian back onto the bed with it, scolding as he did so.
“If you’re going to show off, at least put on your shoes before you do! You’re the crown prince! Hair loose and feet bare, what a disgrace!”
Xie Lian was just at the height of his excitement when he got chased onto the bed like a duck to a pen. He sulked.
“All right! Jeez,” he said and ran both hands through his long hair, ready to tie it up before continuing his lecture to Mu Qing. Suddenly, he frowned. “That’s weird.”