The moon hung high, veiled behind drifting clouds, casting soft silver light across the still waters of the mountain spring. Mist curled gently along the forest floor as if the world itself had quieted in reverence for the night.
Mo Tianzun stood waist-deep in the cold spring, his hanfu folded neatly on a flat stone nearby. The icy water bit into his skin, but he welcomed the sting. His muscles, long-wearied from battle and travel, relaxed at last. A rare breath left his lips—long and quiet, like a sigh from a soul that had held too much for too long.
He dipped his hands, scooping water over his shoulders, and exhaled again. For a moment, he allowed himself peace.
Then—
Splash.
He spun, eyes sharp—but not alarmed. From the edge of the spring, someone had just leapt into the water.
A familiar laugh echoed through the mist.
"Longxuan," Mo Tianzun muttered, half-annoyed, half-smiling.
Zhao Longxuan surfaced, hair damp and clinging to his temples, grinning like a fox who'd gotten exactly what he wanted.
"You could've at least warned me," Tianzun said dryly, brushing water from his face.
"I did," Longxuan replied, voice light with amusement. "You just weren't listening."
Tianzun rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitched. "You're shameless."
Longxuan swam closer, water lapping softly around them. "Only with you."
Mo Tianzun looked away, suddenly flustered, though the night air did little to hide the faint rose tint dusting his cheeks. He turned to wade toward the edge of the spring—but Longxuan caught his wrist.
"Stay," Longxuan said, voice gentler now. "Just for a while."
There was a tremble in the silence that followed. Mo Tianzun turned, the moonlight revealing the slight vulnerability in Longxuan's expression.
"You're always running," Longxuan murmured. "Even now. Even after all this time… after I finally got you back."
Mo Tianzun's eyes softened. "I'm not running."
"You are," Longxuan insisted. "From rest. From warmth. From me."
Tianzun's heart beat loudly beneath his ribs. For twenty years, he had hidden. Buried his identity. Fled from all things that once defined him. Love was the most dangerous of them all.
And yet—
"I don't know if I rememberhow," he whispered.
Longxuan stepped closer. The water shimmered around them. His fingers rose, brushing a damp strand of hair from Tianzun's cheek. "Then let me remind you."
He kissed him—slow, like tasting sunlight after endless winter. Mo Tianzun stiffened, then melted, his arms slipping around Longxuan's shoulders. The kiss deepened, water rippling around their forms as they held one another under the stars.
They stayed like that for what felt like eternity.
No rush. No world outside the spring. Just the sound of breath and water and the faint trembling of hearts too long separated.
Eventually, they rested, forehead to forehead.
"I never stopped waiting," Longxuan said. "Even when they all told me you were gone."
Tianzun's voice shook. "I didn't want you to wait."
"But you're here now. So let me love you, Tianzun. Not just in battle. Not just in silence."
"…Alright," Mo Tianzun whispered, resting his head against his beloved's shoulder.
.
.
.
.
After, they returned to the village arm in arm, Longxuan trying—and failing—not to grin when the villagers offered them more free food.
Fenglan wiggled his eyebrows. "What took you both so long? Hm?"
Mo Tianzun tossed him a glare. "I tripped. Into a spring. With your Crown Prince."
"Convenient tripping," Jiang Fenglie muttered.
Zhenhai sighed. "As long as you didn't destroy the tub this time."
The group erupted in laughter, the morning sun bright above them, and for once—just once—peace held firm.