XUE MENG SANK into the snow. He had never been able to hold his liquor, and he had no idea he'd just met the most dangerous man in the world. He lay perfectly still, the pristine snowfall from the peaks of Kunlun falling over him like springtime willow fuzz or autumn's reed flowers.
Some time later, a man holding a crimson umbrella walked toward him through the snow. Squinting, Xue Meng caught sight of a familiar cool visage. "Mei…" mumbled Xue Meng. He was too tired to form the syllables of Hanxue.
"Mn, it's me." Mei Hanxue helped him up in silence.
Xue Meng sagged against Mei Hanxue's shoulder but didn't move his feet. "Got any wine?"
"No."
Xue Meng pretended not to have heard. "Sure, okay—then you'll drink with me?"
"No."
After a beat, Xue Meng burst into laughter. "You asshole. When I wouldn't drink, you forced it down my throat, and now that I will, you tell me you have none. Is this a joke?"
"I don't drink."
Mumbling something rude under his breath, Xue Meng shoved Mei Hanxue aside and hobbled into the flurrying snow. Holding his umbrella, Mei Hanxue watched his stooped figure. He didn't follow. "Where are you going?"
Xue Meng didn't know either. He wished only for more wine, to drink himself dead.
"Come back," said Mei Hanxue. "There's no path that way."
Xue Meng froze. He held himself still for a moment, then burst into tears. "I just want some fucking wine! And you won't let me have any! On top of that, now you're lying to me, saying you don't drink! What's your problem?!"
"…I'm not lying."
Xue Meng ignored him. "What's your problem, seriously?" he shouted. "Can't you tell I'm in a shitty fucking mood?!"
"I can."
Feeling even worse, Xue Meng blinked. The tip of his nose was red. "I see… But you won't drink with me? Do you think I'm going to drink up all your wine and not pay you back? Let me tell you, I'm not as broke as you think."
Still mumbling, he started digging through his pockets. After collecting a little pile of random coppers, he counted them over, his face falling as he did. "Huh, where did the rest of them go?"
Mei Hanxue put a hand to his forehead, exasperated. "Xue Meng, you're drunk. Go back and rest."
Before Xue Meng could answer, he heard the soft press of footsteps through the snow. Another gentle voice rang out. "Dage, why are you trying to reason with a drunk?" A silk-gloved hand holding a lambskin flask reached over his shoulder, silver tinkling on that outstretched wrist. Mei Hanxue canted a look along the intruding arm and turned.
Standing behind him was his mirror image, only with a gentler cast to his features and a spark of mirth in his eyes.
"There're only two ways to deal with drunks." The man beamed. "Let them drink until they pass out, or beat them unconscious."
Mei Hanxue leveled him with a dubious look.
The newcomer batted his lashes. "I know Dage doesn't drink. Go home. I'll drink with him."
Faint gray smoke spiraled languorously into the air, softly tender and hardly tangible.
The rooms belonging to the da-shixiong of Taxue Palace were redolent of expensive ambergris and densely carpeted in pristine white furs, the pelts so thick that anyone, stepping in, would sink up to their ankles. Gossamer layers of drapery blurred the line between night and day. Any breeze would lift the delicate drapes, but in its absence, they hung low, veiling what lay beyond.
Mei Hanxue lay on those thick white furs with his feet bare and his chin resting on one hand. His pale toes curled languidly as he lifted jade-green eyes to watch Xue Meng, who sat cross-legged before him gulping down wine.
After a few cups, Mei Hanxue smiled. "Ziming, aren't you shocked?"
"About what?"
"There're two of me."
"…Oh," was Xue Meng's only reply.
Mei Hanxue shook his head. "I forgot what a lightweight you are. This far gone, your brain's not working anymore. Nothing's going to shock you now."
"Hmph."
"I don't know if you realized, but the person who parried that blow meant for you at Sisheng Peak was my dage."
"Don't remember."
"You saw his blade, Shuofeng. A sword made of darksilver iron."
Frowning, Xue Meng sifted through his sluggish memory. "But…that day in the hall, the guy who shielded me was hideous. His weapon wasn't silver, either, it was…it was—"
"Blue." Mei Hanxue nodded. "He was angry that day, and very worried, so he put his spiritual energy into it. He doesn't do that usually—my ge doesn't like fighting to kill."
Xue Meng said nothing.
"We actually take turns with the sword. I have a wood and water core, while his is water and fire. One day you might get to see three kinds of spiritual flow, green, red, and blue, but…"
He trailed off. Halfway through his explanation, Xue Meng had picked up his cup with a look of cool reserve.
Mei Hanxue narrowed his eyes. Xue Meng's usual haughty air was absent; instead, his demeanor was decidedly chilly. Recognition itched at the back of Mei Hanxue's mind—he looked like someone else like this, but whom? He couldn't put his finger on it, but he didn't care to think any harder. He approached life much like the thin ribbon of balsam smoke winding up from the golden censer beast's mouth—lazy and indolent, drifting lightly on the wind.
Xue Meng finished off another lambskin flask. "Is there any more?"
"Yes, but you've already had too much. You can't drink any more."
"A thousand cups couldn't get me drunk."
"Is there something wrong with you?" Mei Hanxue laughed, but he did reach for more wine. "This is the last jug," he said as he handed it over. "If I give you any more and my ge finds out, he'll skin me alive."
Xue Meng sipped slowly, his expression placid. He didn't resemble himself. He swallowed and murmured, "You have a gege."
"Huh?" Mei Hanxue smiled. "Of course. I've been talking about him for a while, and you saw him just a minute ago."
Xue Meng's eyes were unfocused. His long lashes fluttered like a butterfly's wing as he mumbled, "I have a gege too."
"Mn, I know."
Xue Meng leaned back against the pillar. He'd sat for so long his legs were numb, so he stretched one out and stared at Mei Hanxue. The iciness in his gaze melted away, replaced by sunny brightness, yet this glow still didn't seem like Xue Meng. He grinned at Mei Hanxue. "Hey, how does your ge treat you?"
Stunned by his transformation, Mei Hanxue wondered—was this how he acted while drunk? He replied, "Pretty good."
"Ha ha ha, you don't say much, do you? What do you mean, pretty good? Would he make you a weapon? Would he bring you a bowl of noodles when you're sick?"
Mei Hanxue smiled. "None of that. But he does help me keep women away."
Xue Meng blinked.
"I don't like seeing ex-lovers throw fits," said Mei Hanxue. "He handles all the ones I can't. He's much more decisive than me; he's a lot more clinical, and he doesn't waste time. But he's kind of boring, so he's reached this ripe old age without even holding a girl's hand."
Xue Meng frowned. "What's your ge's name?"
"Mei Hänxue."
"You two have the same name?"
"It's not the same character." Mei Hanxue smiled. "His is Han as in cold. Fitting."
"What are you guys playing at, doing this?" Xue Meng mumbled.
"It makes things easier in a way," said Mei Hanxue. "Some things are unremarkable when two different people do them, but seem mysterious if people think they're done by the same person. It was the palace leader's idea, so my ge and I have been switching places ever since we were little."
He lifted the lid of the incense burner and poked at the embers with a silver spoon. He added some more incense, the type meant to calm the heart and dispel cold, and kept talking. "One of us always wears a mask of human skin," he said lightly. "When he wears it, I act as myself, and when I put it on, he acts like himself. Before we knew it, we'd been doing it for twenty years."
"Isn't it tiring, living like that?"
"For me, not at all. It's loads of fun." Mei Hanxue smiled. "But my ge probably finds it exhausting. He always complains about how many spurned lovers I have—it's gotten to the point that he has to avoid women whenever he heads out."
Xue Meng didn't know what it felt like to be surrounded by women. In this regard, he and Mei Hanxue's brother weren't much different: Both had apparently reached adulthood without so much as touching a girl's hand. But this wasn't something to brag about. He sipped his wine in awkward silence.
Mei Hanxue thought he was too drunk to respond, but then Xue Meng suddenly asked, "Why save me?"
His tone had shifted again, this time into something very gentle. Such softness was jarring on Xue Meng's proud face, more eye watering than the earlier brightness or the freezing cold at the start.
Mei Hanxue couldn't take it anymore. He sat up, reaching out with one silver-bell-adorned wrist and grasping Xue Meng's chin. Inspecting him from every angle, he mused, "How odd. It's you, all right. What's going on?"
Xue Meng didn't smack his hand away as he'd expected. Keeping his dark eyes fixed on Mei Hanxue, he allowed himself to be manhandled. "Why help Sisheng Peak?" he asked. "Are we very close?"
"Not really," said Mei Hanxue. "We played together when we were little, but it'd be me one day and my ge the next. I really only interacted with you over ten or so days."
"Then why would you take me in?"
Mei Hanxue sighed. He reached out and prodded Xue Meng on the forehead. "Your mom and dad saved my mother's life. She was from Suyab, and you know how many resentful ghosts there are in that place. She sent us to Kunlun Taxue Palace after we were born. During one of the violent ghost incidents in the city, she managed to escape—but she broke her leg getting out."
This new incense carried the sharp scent of pine. Mei Hanxue smiled. "It was a terrible journey, and she didn't have much money. By the time she made it to Kunlun Mountain, she was near death."
His face remained peaceful, the red teardrop pendant sparkling where it sat on his forehead. "Back then, Uncle Xue and Aunt Wang were on their own way to Kunlun Taxue Palace for the very first time. When they saw my mother in such a state, they didn't ask about her bloodlines or take her money; they just used the best medicines on her. They even carried her up the mountain after they learned she'd come in search of her sons."
Xue Meng listened in amazement. It was a breath before he asked, "Then—what happened to your mom?"
"The injury was too severe." Mei Hanxue shook his head. "She couldn't be saved. She passed shortly after…but thanks to Aunt and Uncle, we got to see her one last time."
A breeze gusted in, scattering the smoke and ringing the bells on the eaves, which tinkled like flowing water.
"For years, Aunt and Uncle told us there was no need to repay them, that it'd been no trouble. They themselves likely forgot the whole thing, but Dage and I never did."
Mei Hanxue looked up, studying Xue Meng with those jade-green eyes. These events had happened so long ago that there was no sadness in them, only gentleness. "That day, Uncle Xue carried my mom on his back, and Aunt Wang held the umbrella. They didn't want her to catch another chill. When they walked into the hall, they didn't speak of any official business of Sisheng Peak, nor attempt to build an alliance or curry favor with Taxue Palace. The first thing they did was ask if there were twins from Suyab here."
Pale golden lashes lowered, hiding those pools of clear jade. "I say this because it's the truth: They were the best sect-leader couple I've ever known."
"My mom and dad…" said Xue Meng, strangled.
Mei Hanxue hummed in assent. "Your mom and dad."
Xue Meng buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking. He was crying again; he seemed to have shed a lifetime's worth of tears in these scant few months. He wept, and finally resembled Xue Meng once more.
Suddenly, Mei Hanxue understood—earlier, his icy proclamation of A thousand cups wouldn't get me drunk was for Chu Wanning. His lamenting You have a gege was for Mo Weiyu, and his gentle Why save me? was for Shi Mingjing. Xue Meng clumsily memorialized them, remembering their every detail and every gesture, whether they sat or stood, whether they were annoyed or enraged. He'd grown accustomed to having Chu Wanning's stern coldness, Mo Weiyu's blazing enthusiasm, and Shi Mingjing's quiet gentleness always by his side.
He used to have a shizun, a cousin, and a dear friend; he'd thought this was a matter of course, so he hadn't treasured it. But in the blink of an eye, the storm had left him rootless and drifting, blown by the wind. When the rain had stopped, he was alone. Everyone else had disappeared.
Xue Meng drank this jug of wine, and one person became three: He cried and laughed, was cold, warm, and gentle. He loved them, and he had expressed his love respectfully, haughtily, and awkwardly. Perhaps he hadn't done it right. His love for his shizun had always seemed dumb and clumsy, while his love for his cousin came out more cutting than necessary, and his love for Shi Mei had ever been mild and complacent.
The wine was gone. Xue Meng slowly withdrew into himself, curling into a small ball. The rims of his eyes were red. "It's my fault," he mumbled. "It's all my fault…"
Come back, won't you? I'll never be proud or insolent, I'll never be hesitant or neglectful again.
Xue Meng sobbed, pressing his face to his knees as he trembled. "Come back," he wept. "Don't leave me here alone."
If they would only return—if everything began anew—he wouldn't choose a title like "darling of the heavens" or the prestige of being the young master of Sisheng Peak. He simply wanted to tell them—I really, really love you. I can't be without you; I have to live out my life by your sides. Even if it cost his spiritual core, or all the gold he had. He'd give up everything to bring them all back for one stolen moment of joy.
Seeing his grief, Mei Hanxue sighed and reached out to brush the hair from Xue Meng's crumpled face. Yet before he could speak, an explosive boom came from outside the palace, so loud it seemed to shatter the clouds.
The earth shook beneath them, trembling as if some slumbering beast was waking in the depths of the snowy plain, its steaming maw opening wide to swallow the skies themselves.
Instantly wary, Mei Hanxue settled Xue Meng and readied himself to leave. He bumped into his brother, sword in hand, at the door. His brother brushed the canopies aside and strode into the room, his expression solemn and very dark. "Hurry to the main hall."
"What's going on?" blurted Mei Hanxue. "What was that sound?"
His perennially composed brother pursed his lips. "A mysterious array appeared to the northeast; it's massive. I'm afraid Mo-zongshi was right—the Space-Time Gate is opening."