Victory and Defeat

The sun was setting, its orange-red afterglow flickering like flames. Ling Sheng knelt on the ground with his head bowed, occasionally pounding his own thigh with his fist. He glared venomously at the man drinking tea unhurriedly in the pavilion, cursing his ancestors under his breath.

After slowly finishing the last sip of tea, Xi Mo looked up at the sky before putting down his cup, rising to his feet and walking over to Ling Sheng, his tone light as he said, “Get up.” Ling Sheng shot him a furtive glare, biting his lip as he slowly stood. Though he hadn’t knelt for an especially long time, it hadn’t been short either, so the moment he got up, pain shot through his knees as if they had been shattered, and his legs trembled as if they might give way.

Xi Mo watched him with a smile, raising his brows as he benevolently offered his arm to help steady him. Ling Sheng, who had been keeping his head down, looked up at him—and in that instant, Xi Mo abruptly shook off his hand, causing Ling Sheng to lose his balance and fall heavily to the ground.

The soft flesh of his backside struck the hard earth, making his face contort with pain. Pointing accusingly at Xi Mo, he gritted out, “You did that on purpose!” Xi Mo shrugged innocently and squatted down with a laugh. “I really didn’t mean it this time. But your eyes—they look just like his. It makes my teeth itch with hatred!”

Ling Sheng glared at him furiously, his brows knitting. “You all say my eyes are like his, but who exactly is he?” Xi Mo tapped the ground with pale fingers, gazing past Ling Sheng’s shoulder at the myriad flowers in bloom, their colors blending in the dusk. “He is someone you’ll spend your whole life kneeling before, looking up at in awe.”

Ling Sheng’s expression shifted. Clenching his fists, he looked into Xi Mo’s eyes—eyes filled with disgust, envy, and a touch of reverence. Suddenly, Ling Sheng burst out laughing. The sound pulled Xi Mo from his thoughts; he frowned coldly. “What are you laughing at?”

Tilting his head, Ling Sheng continued to laugh without answering. After a moment, he leaned in to whisper by Xi Mo’s ear, “I’m laughing at you. You say I’m fated to kneel before him, but aren’t you really talking about yourself?” Seeing the sudden gloom on Xi Mo’s face, Ling Sheng’s smile only deepened. “You hate him, despise him, envy him, yet you can’t help but admire him. He must be a remarkable man…”

Xi Mo shut his eyes, breathing heavily. Ling Sheng gave a cold chuckle, reaching out to smooth the young man’s disheveled hair with careless fingers. “Someone like that—though I’ve never met him, the very thought makes my heart race. To have eyes like his is truly my honor.”

A boy raised in the lowest brothels, with the most humble origins, to have eyes resembling such a powerful, lofty figure—what an honor indeed… Ling Sheng’s eyes narrowed in mockery, a sneer curling at his lips.

Drawing a deep breath, Xi Mo opened his eyes and sneered, “To be honest, it’s only in a fleeting glance that there’s any resemblance. His eyes are a rare shade of ink green, always filled with such arrogance and sharpness that they inspire fear. Even in his most humiliating moments, he never loses that proud bearing.” He gripped Ling Sheng’s chin, voice mocking. “So, do you still think you look like him?”

Ling Sheng turned his face away, coldly retorting, “A fleeting resemblance is enough! At least with these eyes, I can live a better life. And you?” He shot Xi Mo a sidelong glance, lips curling. “The one you love, loves him. And in his heart, you’re not even a stand-in.”

A sharp slap sent Ling Sheng’s face snapping to the side, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Clutching his cheek, he laughed wildly, his white teeth stained red and looking almost grotesque. “The angrier you get, the more it proves I’m right. Hahaha…”

“If you say another word, I swear I’ll kill you.” Xi Mo gripped Ling Sheng’s throat, his teeth clenched in fury.

The laughter vanished from Ling Sheng’s face. He struggled desperately to pry Xi Mo’s fingers from his neck, terror draining his face of all color. Xi Mo’s expression was blank as he lowered his eyes, tightening his grip.

Ling Sheng’s pallid face flushed scarlet as he opened his mouth wide, gasping hoarsely for air. Xi Mo’s lashes fluttered; he gradually released his hold, stood up, and looked down at Ling Sheng with cold indifference. “Rather than kill you, I’ll let you live with this wretched fate. But in time, you may well curse me for not killing you today.”

With that, he turned and strode away, as if something repulsive lingered behind him.

Ling Sheng clutched his throat, head bowed and coughing dryly. After a long while, he spat out a mouthful of blood-tinged phlegm. His strength gave out, and he collapsed onto the ground, breathing in great gulps of air.

In the dim flower garden, a man’s low laughter echoed, growing louder and sharper, chilling to the bone.

※※※

Deep into the night, the cold moon hung like a hook in the sky.

On the deserted street, only the sound of light footsteps could be heard as a slender figure gradually emerged. Judging by the silhouette, it was a youth, his whole body concealed within a voluminous black cloak.

Suddenly, the youth paused, glancing back over his shoulder and drawing his cloak tighter. His pace quickened, just as a flash of dazzling silver sliced through the darkness—a silver dart skimming past his slender waist as his body twisted like a snake.

He stopped, holding his breath, but the dart seemed merely a prank; there were no further attacks. He glanced around, pulling his hat lower, and hurried off.

Not long after the youth left, another figure slowly emerged from a street corner, heading in the opposite direction.

In a tranquil room, the youth sat on a low couch dressed in a plain white under-robe, his chin propped on one hand as he gazed at the door in boredom. After a long while, he yawned lazily, just as footsteps sounded outside. His sleep-heavy eyes sharpened instantly as he sat up straight, watching the door. Sure enough, it opened, and a man in a dark green robe entered, carrying a chessboard.

The youth leaped from the couch to greet him, grabbing the two boxes of chess pieces with a grumble. “Brother, what took you so long? I nearly fell asleep.” Setting the chessboard on the table, Beigong Juechen raised an eyebrow, “If that’s the case, let’s skip chess tonight and go to bed.”

Beigong Qiyi shook his head quickly, teasing, “Are you afraid of losing to me?” Juechen shot him a dismissive look, scoffing, “Afraid of you? Ridiculous.” Qiyi’s dark eyes glimmered with mischief as he smiled slyly, “Then, brother, do you dare make a wager with me?”

Juechen settled on the other side of the couch, asking carelessly, “What shall we wager?” Qiyi picked up a black piece and placed it at the center of the board, eyes downcast. “Just the outcome.” Juechen squinted at him without a word. Qiyi set the box of white pieces by his hand, lowering his voice, “If you win, I’ll let you leave ‘Lizhui Manor.’”

“And if I lose?” Juechen asked coolly. Qiyi looked up, his eyes dark and crystalline, watching the man as he licked his lower lip and smiled slowly. “If you lose, you must cooperate with me—just once, but in earnest.”

Juechen’s expression didn’t change. He arched a brow, picked up a white piece with slender, fair fingers, and placed it next to the black, replying, “Very well.”

“Lizhui Manor” was ablaze with lanterns, with trained patrols stationed everywhere. Xi Mo draped his cloak over his arm, hurrying toward “Xianyi Residence.”

He’d wasted much time with Ling Sheng today. If Beigong Qiyi noticed his absence, suspicion would arise. He shook his head with a self-mocking smile—though, perhaps, that one only ever had eyes for Beigong Juechen, and might not even notice his disappearance…

From afar he saw “Xianyi Residence.” Xi Mo pushed down his feelings and quickened his pace. Two maids stood outside the door. He asked softly, “Where is the young master?” One maid replied with lowered head, “The young lord and the master are inside.” Xi Mo paused, then nodded faintly.

He entered through a side hall. Passing Qiyi’s main chamber, he paused, gazing through the papered door at the warm golden candlelight within before withdrawing his gaze and heading straight for his own room.

Inside, the candles flickered. Black and white chess pieces crisscrossed the board, each side claiming half.

Qiyi pondered his next move, placing a black piece and smiling. “Brother, you’ve lost.” The board was a deadlock, but the black held a slight edge. Juechen tossed his piece back into the box. “If I had one more move, you wouldn’t have won either.”

“That’s true,” Qiyi chuckled softly. “I only won because I played first. In truth, it’s a draw between us. Still, I’ll keep my promise to you.”

Juechen watched him impassively, his ink-green eyes turned amber by the candlelight, clear and luminous. Qiyi’s heart trembled at the sight. The candle snapped and crackled. Juechen broke eye contact, slowly removed his outer robe, and lay down on the bed, neither agreeing nor protesting Qiyi’s earlier words.

Qiyi packed away the chess pieces before lying down beside him, gently running his fingers through the man’s long hair. “Brother, I don’t want to keep you here forever. I just hope you’ll accept me.” Juechen closed his eyes. Qiyi rested his head on his shoulder and continued, “Brother…”

“Sleep,” Juechen cut him off. The youth glanced at him, smiled faintly, and said no more.

Qi Yong lay on his bed, a painting by his side. He gazed at the man in the painting, his expression shifting unpredictably. His fingers traced those delicate features, but he quickly pulled away. Qi Yong closed his eyes tightly, fists clenched. Suddenly, he rose, donned his cloak, and strode out.

It was already so late; surely he wouldn’t come tonight, Ling Sheng thought, getting up to snuff the candle. But just then, the door was flung open. The gusts from outside made the candle flame flicker. Ling Sheng turned in surprise as the man who burst in pushed him onto the bed and pinned him down.

Qi Yong kissed him fiercely. Ling Sheng, startled, quickly closed his eyes and responded desperately, but the man’s lips soon left his. “Open your eyes,” came the low voice. Ling Sheng curled his lips in self-mockery and slowly opened his eyes.

Author’s note: I accidentally burned my hand today… If there’s no update tomorrow, that means I’m out of commission…