#tiantangs

Paper confetti, firecrackers, red plastered everywhere, and music blaring. It was impressively lively in the streets, as the kingdom of Jín welcomed back their own. Zhànfēng expected no less, considering how cherished the young Emperor was not only to himself but to his people. Thankfully for the prince, it had not been three whole years since he had seen the young Emperor. Here and there, Zhànfēng managed to peel away, posing as an envoy of sorts, to visit his dear friend in the kingdom of Chǔ.

Though spoken of highly by his companion in letters and in spoken words, nothing much of his friend's new and temporary home much interested the prince. Of Zhànfēng's own home, though their military did not have the numbered might of Chǔ, they were renowned as strategists in war. This paired with a protective landscape of the region long-served for peace of his kingdom with others. He was usually greeted without the worries of imminent danger. The inner chaos among the many Imperial Sons, however, was a different story. Whenever he left the capital, he found himself freed from those burdens. Visiting 晋帝生元 was always a good idea.

Upon hearing of plans for the Emperor of Jìn's return, Zhànfēng made purposeful arrangements to be among the first faces to greet him back in his home. For diplomatic reasons, as he had convinced of his 父皇 and 母后. ‘Maintaining our relationship with the young Emperor of Jín as they expand their alliance with Chǔ Guó would be in our favor for sustained peacekeeping.’

“本王见过陛下。陛下，好久不见。” Zhànfēng bowed at him for the sake of traditions and formalities, though they knew each other more kindred than this. The older prince was a known friend of 晋帝, having offered what little he could of aid at times of need. The Prince of Zhào did not often call in favors of his title but when he did, it was for good reason. Though often presenting himself as politically neutral on the surface, Zhànfēng kept his deck of cards close the vest. His movements were always under sharp scrutiny and thus he played into being the Prince of Debauchery instead.

“维拉幸福陛下回来本王特意带了一瓶美酒。陛下曾经说过喜欢本王国家的酒，本王希望有机会和陛下享受一下。” A small smirk displayed itself, as he reminisced fondly of their brotherly affection. There were the many nights between them, sharing in fine wine and cuisines, all usually ending with Zhànfēng practicing his swordsmanship—a dance, really—while his friend accompanied with his dízǐ.

Everyone knows the lady of 红缨园 rarely decides to greet her guests when the show is over. Wei Zanying has made a name for herself - cool and aloof with most of her audiences, it's said that short of royalty, she rarely deigns to see ANYONE. A privilege, the streets whispered, of having connections in high places. As such - it is perhaps strange to the average eye that after the afternoon's performance, she has brought him to one of the guest rooms in the back, and herself came to sit once she has changed out of the heavy robes, wiped the exaggerated makeup off her face, and taken the heavier baubles from her hair.

But - the secret of her business, perhaps, is that Zanying knows and sees, with her eagle eyes - when it's IMPORTANT to bend the rules a little.

"来我这，不就图个清雅闲致吗?" She pours them both a cup of tea as she sits. "大人一直绷着脸，是心情不佳，还是对我这出戏有什么不满意?"

the heavy scents of blood mixed with venom had lured dear wen xiaoliu to this hideous cave  —  bearing a pretty pathetic demon. Xiaoliu was almost stumped for words before urgency made him hurry to the man’s aid.

Xiaoliu did not have much with him except for what he had scavenged in the wilderness. The only work he could really do was use a hunting knife to cut through soiled clothing so that he could clean around the blackened stakes. Thankfully, he had brought with him numbing powder as part of an emergency kit, but he wasn’t sure how much that would help such a major disaster. Still, Xiaoliu has used them all up for him.

Honestly, Xiaoliu didn’t wish to converse, because the work proved too much. But, he also must not neglect his bedside manners with a patient. ❛ Heh. Would little old me look like someone you know ? ❜ Jokes aside, ❛ No, of course I don’t know you. You can call me Liu-ge .. ah, Liu-di, Liu-di. ❜ 蛇王 definitely doesn't sound like the type of person to be beneath anyone.

For Xiaoliu knew well the end of anything only brings him pain, and in this matter the end seemed evident from the start, but for want of company and for mercy’s sake, Xiaoliu housed Yanan in the Rejuvenation Hall on a long term basis.

❛ everyone has secrets, don’t they? i’m sure you’ll tell me yours when you’re ready. ❜ the old deity yet has strength to be witty, hm.

@tiantangs asked :

[ CARRY ]: sender, finding the receiver weakened/unconscious on the floor, immediately lifts them up and carries them back to bed.

[ from yiqi, for f.eng j.iu --- or anyone else who wants himb ! ] - CARING FOR THE SICK (ACCEPTING)

Her face, already flushed with light fever, tinges even redder with EMBARRASSMENT. If she had been more careful, she wouldn't have tumbled straight into the river trying to fish the night before, and they wouldn't be here. She knows what she's like when she feels ill - and yet she can't really muster up enough force of will bring herself to RESIST turning her face inward and curling into the cool fabric of his collar. Makes a noise akin to a whine when he retracts his hand, having settled her in the soft cloud bed and pulled up the blanket - and grabs onto his sleeve.

🦋 What seemingly insignificant memory do they cherish the most? [ for buwei ! ]

His mother's smile when he came home drenched after falling into a lake. She was always very gentle with him, always. At that time, she was already bedridden, so when he came in, his clothes dripping, his hair messy, his face still dirty from the mud, she got startled initially, thinking it was a gui - or so she told him - before finally breaking into a very faint laugh and motioning for him to approach her. She adjusted a few wet strands of hair and used her robe's sleeve to dry his face. That was one of the last times she still had the strength to open her eyes. That smile and gentleness have stayed with him and shifted how he approaches people and their mistakes.

🌹 What is their love language & how badly do they need it right now? [ for buwei ! ]

Buwei is a very emotional person, as in, his emotions usually drive his decision making, and he is - for better and for worse - quite an open book when it comes to how he feels. His love language itself is acts of kindness. He is gentle and warm to everyone, but those who are close to his heart will be showered in gifts - some expensive, but many just trinkets that reflect a person's interest or what they personally like. He's very attentive, and when he notices that a dear one is ill, weak, tired, he will, without a word, arrange for medicine, a healer who 'stumbles upon them', or he will silently perform the person's duties without them knowing. He doesn't want thanks, so he will try not to be discovered.

He... Well, he is quite lonely. He surrounds himself with people (one might say he adopts strays, taking into consideration the questionable nature of the likes of Jianyu and Meixiang), but there's always something missing. Perhaps he just needs a steady companion that would be there for him the way he is there for others. Perhaps he needs a hug. Perhaps he's just fundamentally broken and will always feel alone. We must wait and see!

@tiantangs sent -> ❝ THE  STAR:  A  lake  under  a  blanket  of  stars. ❞

on starlight itself, yuekong descended from the skies in the silence of the clear night. nothing but the thin mist that rose from the shore unsettled the water, a slowly rippling mirror of the star-speckled heavens. the citrusy tang of the meyer lemon bit the discipline's nose as they breathed in deeply, letting the scent and sounds of earth act as a soothing balm to aching nerves. against the tree line, the large white bulbous blossoms of the magnolia trees looked like little ghosts bobbing in the breeze, and yuekong smiled with outstretched hands and half-lidded eyes. they basked in the wonder of it all for a moment longer before getting to work.

in their satchel on their back, he brought with him various summoning and attracting materials. glass jars of salt, clay pots of incense and ashes, and an ornate hand-carved totem were carefully arranged in a large circle. there were other offerings, too. yuekong brought anything they hoped may attract a demon powerful enough for his requests. the most important offering, the ingredient that everything rested on, was their blood. so yuekong took the mirrored blade, and pressed it without hesitation deep into his palm. this would need a lot of blood.

ignoring the pain, yuekong drew half a dozen characters in dripping crimson, hoping it would be enough.

[ sick ] sender bringing a sick receiver whatever they need ( food / medicine / etc. )[ from hostage prince nángōng xīyǔ, for either buwei or minrui ! ]

Hua Buwei treasured very few friendship more than those with others who understood his love of falconry. Thus, when -- through diplomatic visits to the land of Shu -- he met the young prince, he found himself gravitating toward him. The love for the power of the hunting animal and the respect they both had for its wits, wisdom and strength helped the young prince-general form a bond with the other. Were it reciprocated as strongly, he did not know nor did he wish to burden the prince Nangong Xiyu with any expectations. Rather, having this common point, he made it a point to beg his brother to try and form political ties with the Kingdom to allow for some occasions to meet and share knowledge and their newest observations relating to the majestic creatures.

He'd felt weak when he was setting out for Shu, but the illness truly set in when he finally arrived. The fever was strong enough to sweep him off his feet, and he became an unwilling patient-guest for the Clan. Wrought with guilt, he did his best to fight the weakness, yet there was not much he could do.

His hosts were generous and took care of him well, Prince Nangong Xiyu himself often joining him in his spare time, entertaining him with conversations and bringing him distractions. Buwei began to feel better until...

The night took him for the worse. His fever reappeared and he had trouble breathing, his chest was tightened and him shivering in his bed, unable to retain any warmth. The servants tried their best and notified the hosts, who in turn alerted the doctors, yet Buwei was none the better. After a few hours, they managed to calm him and send him to sleep, and he remembered little.

He woke early, before even the sun broke the night sky. The censer was lit to warm him, and he saw Nangong Xiyu sitting beside him, his back pressed against the wall as he seemed to fall asleep. On his lap was a small plate with fruit. Buwei could not help but smile. While the guilt of worrying about the other was already setting in, for that brief moment, the prince-general smiled gratefully.

What a kind friend he had.