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Based on Mu Qing's criteria of 'A Good Day', today could be considered as one. The sky was clear, leaving the sun all alone while its blinding rays bathed Mu Qing in its warmth. The heat was lessened by the cool winds that brushed against his cheeks, and accompanied with the scent of the morning dew, Mu Qing felt like he was dreaming. Not only because of the wonderful scene surrounding him, but because today was one of the worst days that happened (he wouldn't admit that it was also one of his best days as well).

Well, it would have been one of his best days, if a memory of a certain Southeast General basking in the sun as he practiced his archery which caused him to see said General's sweat trickling down his face, then this afternoon could have been decent. Unfortunately, it was not, and Feng Xin has been stuck in his mind the moment he realized he was in love with him. After years, and years of arguing with each other, it had only been a week since Mu Qing realized he was madly in love with Feng Xin (and possibly loved him since they were teens, but he won't admit that, not now when he's having a crisis that would last a lifetime).

Gods—How would Feng Xin say it? Oh, right—he's absolutely fucked.

But after years of being used to the same routine of arguing, beating each other up which probably involved destroying several properties in the Heavens, Mu Qing was certain that Feng Xin hated him— is what he thought before the destruction of the former Heavenly Realm. And after that, along with a number of life or death situations, Mu Qing noticed how close they've become in such a short time. Although they still argue (it would be weird if they didn't; Mu Qing thinks he's used to their bickering after so long), it isn't as bad to the point they wreck the streets of the Heavenly Capital. He noticed how often Feng Xin laughs— more importantly how he laughs at every single thing, how his fists clench whenever he's irritated, how he wipes his hands on his armor when they finish their spar, how his smile irritatingly makes his heart skip several beats as if he finished defeating troublesome ghosts—

Ugh. If Mu Qing from several years ago heard how fucking infatuated current Mu Qing is with his so-called rival, he would've torn every fabric he stitched. He was his rival, for heaven's sake! Why would he like the person he's supposed to dislike? But the fact that they share boundaries in the south, mostly together in missions, and someone he knew since his teens, it would definitely be difficult to dislike him. And just by thinking about Feng Xin's name, it sends a rush of heat to his pale cheeks that makes him roll his eyes.

If only Feng Xin wasn't so fucking—Ah, Xie Lian was right, he has seemed to caught Feng Xin's vocabulary—handsome, an idiot, a good sparring partner, his ideal type, an asshole—

“Mu Qing! Why are you just standing there?”

And here comes the source of his dread (more like his everything, but Mu Qing would like to avoid looking like a lady who has just been asked out by a noble man, thank you very much).

“—And why are you as red as a lantern? What? Not used to the heat after being drowned in paperwork?” Feng Xin said while rolling his eyes (and again, Mu Qing attempts to ignore that he noticed how both of them seem to have caught each other's habits).

Mu Qing clicks his tongue, “What's it to you? You barely did any of yours and just spent your time in the mortal realm. I'm here to drag you back up.” He immediately chided. And he is terrified how they instantly return to their mindless arguing— also because it reminded him of the old lady that mistaken them as a couple who bicker a lot when they were wearing their disguises.

Following centuries of suppressing his feelings, Mu Qing discovered he missed the moments when he and Feng Xin would argue with each other, or the times he, Feng Xin, and Xie Lian would talk to each other when they were in Xian Le. In short, he felt lonely—or he's just so stupidly in love with Feng Xin. Regardless, it has been too unbelievably calm without Feng Xin that he had to make an excuse to find him in the mortal realm. Also because Feng Xin's subordinates were doing most of his work, and he wanted Feng Xin to experience the suffering he tolerated.

“What are you even doing here? I wonder what kind of business the great Ju Yang has around here.” Mu Qing questioned, crossing his arms as he did.

“Don't call me that! And it's none of your business.” Feng Xin countered. “Let's just go back. I've done what I needed to do.”

Somehow, there was a tiny part of Mu Qing that wished for them to stay together longer. But they couldn't do that, not when he wasn't even sure of Feng Xin's feelings towards him.

“Fine. Let's—”

“Mu Qing, wait—”

Before he could even react, Feng Xin's hand brushed Mu Qing’s hair then felt the other's hand remove an object that was stuck between his locks. Instantly, Mu Qing felt his cheeks flush, and was probably even more red than earlier.

“There— there was a leaf stuck.” Feng Xin waved the leaf that was on him earlier in front of him.

“Let's just go.” He said in his most I-am-not-freaking-out voice, poorly attempting not to voice crack, then proceeded to teleport back and left Feng Xin alone.

Mu Qing wants to scream and destroy several palaces in the process.

Weeks after the—dare he say it—heart fluttering event, they still act like how they usually do. Arguing, sparring, yelling curse words at each other— ah, yes, the usual. Nothing has changed, aside from the fact that Mu Qing gets a crisis every time he remembers the short-lived scene, and everything was alright.

…

He's lying. He wants to bash the hilt of his sword on Feng Xin's head to remove the stupid grin that was on his face lately, and Mu Qing is certain he fell in love with him again. He buries his face on his hands, then sighs, is this what falling in love is? Mu Qing never really noticed how he was slowly falling into Feng Xin's charms as the years passed by.

Can you even fall in love with the same person twice, he thought while removing his head from his hands then lifelessly cleans his saber.

From the moment they met, they were like oil and water—unable to coexist due to their differences; Mu Qing lived in the slums and never really excelled in anything extraordinary, while Feng Xin came from a decent family, and was able to serve under His Highness at a young age. With a single move from the glass filled with oil and water, the substances hardly attempt to mix and simply clash and avoid each other, just like him and Feng Xin for centuries. No matter how hard you attempt to swirl them together, they will never become one.

However, one wrong move had caused the glass to shatter on the ground, allowing the liquids to freely escape. Like their misunderstanding in the past, it let them stray further away from one another. They were so close, yet felt so far apart.

And Mu Qing unconsciously yearned for such closeness.

But what happened has been done, he knows when to accept and move on. Although the guilt would eat him slowly, it's what he felt like he deserves for being an ass. He is seen as stubborn, filled with pride, and possibly any other negative adjective in existence, and Mu Qing has learned to accept it because they're right—and whatever false statements they throw at him, he simply accepts it and moves forward.

As long as it only hurts himself and not anyone he loved, then it was surely fine by him, as much as he would hate to admit it.

The scent of sweet cherries stopped Mu Qing from pondering, then released a sigh he never knew he was holding in. The day had only begun, he had more important tasks to accomplish rather than analyzing his behavior from the past. He ate a few ripe cherries on his desk then neatly arranged it, and walked out of his quarters—longing for someone to ease his running mind.

“Looks like our spar ended early?” Mu Qing asked, smirking when Feng Xin came to a halt, breathing unevenly, and cheeks flushed from their spar.

(Mu Qing, although he will never admit it, thinks Feng Xin looked absolutely hot like that. Literally, and in an I-have-romantic-feelings-for-you way.)

They were at the backyard of Feng Xin's palace like usual. As always, it was messy; used arrows on the floor, several beaten up training dummies on the side, and a bit of sweat stains on the ground which were from their spar. Inhaling the scent of heat as the sun's rays shine on them while exchanging fists to each other's face, one fist then the other's afterwards, which they seem to avoid easily, as if they have performed it several times. Like a dance, they continuously fight as if they were following a choreography—dodging each move, predicting their next attack, which they came to learn due to years of using actions to convey their emotions instead of communicating.

“Fuck off,” Feng Xin rebuked, “And what's with you these days? You're either staring at the ground or ignoring others.”

Mu Qing winced, he didn't realize he was acting like that lately. Somehow, memories of the past came back to his mind; thinking about his godly duties, and Feng Xin was not able to ease his mind. Most gave him a headache while thinking about Feng Xin made his head and heart ache like a lovesick idiot. In hopes to remove such thoughts, he had decided to spar with Feng Xin, but the stressful thoughts were still on his mind.

“I don't seem to recall that my personal life is your business.” Mu Qing scoffed. He couldn't believe Feng Xin would be concerned for him. They may have been through a lot the past year, but to him, he always felt that Feng Xin still disliked him. Eight hundred years of being on bad terms with each other wouldn't disappear within a year.

“Can't I be concerned for a friend?” Feng Xin groaned. “Oh, I meant f-f-friend,” he adds, snickering silently.

Mu Qing punches him in the stomach. Hard.

“Fuck! Weren't you the one that said our spar ended early!?” He complained as he clutched his stomach.

Mu Qing rolled his eyes, “You started it. And stop bringing that up every once in a while.”

The other stopped clutching his stomach, then stood straight again—making his broad shoulders evident—wiping the sweat dripping down his forehead by using the back of his wrist.

And with the sun's rays beaming behind him, Mu Qing vividly remembers a memory from almost a month ago that made him realize that he was in love. And he wants to close his eyes and walk away because his heart was beating unbelievably quick.

“What?” Mu Qing snapped out from his train of thoughts then turned his attention to the god in front of him.

“Ha?”

“You're staring,” Feng Xin replied, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Stop making stuff up.” Mu Qing immediately lied out of panic. He knew he was staring (Why must Feng Xin look so hot?).

“I'm not— Whatever, you're too stubborn.” He replied. Mu Qing rolled his eyes again.

Stubborn. Come to think of it, with all the piled up work, visiting his temples, poorly attempting to ignore various past memories, and dealing with his feelings for Feng Xin, he became even more stubborn than before. He descended to the mortal realm often, insisting to check on his temples when in reality was looking for a way to set aside his thoughts and find time for himself. Mu Qing was as stubborn as an iron attracted to another iron, firm and unyielding until pulled out by force.

“You know I wasn't joking about being concerned for you, right?”

Mu Qing raised his head so quickly that he thought his neck was going to break. He felt disoriented from all the thoughts clouding his mind that he assumed he was dreaming when Feng Xin looked so genuine at him. But the fact that he could feel the sizzling heat on his skin and his heart pounding against his chest, he confirmed this was reality. Even if Feng Xin's eyes are filled with concern, what happened a few seconds ago was real, and not a dream.

He couldn't believe it.

“Are you serious?” He muttered, looking at the ground in disbelief.

“What? Of course, I— Mu Qing, do you not believe it?” Feng Xin asked while his eyes widened when he realized that the other didn't believe him. "I wouldn't joke about that."

“Centuries of bad terms with each other wouldn't disappear in a short period of time.” Mu Qing argued. “You can't seem to be honest.”

“I could say the same thing about you— Look, that's not the point.” The other general sighed.

Feng Xin grunted, then took a step forward, “What if- what if it did disappear?”

Each word he uttered, he took a step towards Mu Qing. In a blink, he was already in front of the dark haired god, barely any distance between them.

“What if there wasn't any in the first place?” Feng Xin whispered.

Mu Qing's breath hitched. He could hear the loud drumming of his heart, he immediately felt heat surge to his cheeks, and his and Feng Xin's synced breathing. If they from eight hundred years ago were this close to each other, they would've ended up bruised by the end of the day. And yet now, so close to each other to the point Mu Qing could see his freckles (that he only noticed whenever he punched his face in the past), it all felt too overwhelming to be real.

Again, Mu Qing couldn't believe it.

Instinctively, he pushed him away. “I don't believe you.”

In an instant, he immediately turned on his heels, ignoring the call Feng Xin yelled, and briskly walked out of the other's palace. His fists tightly closed that his palm was red by the time he reached the chambers of his palace. He was panting, in a state of confusion as too many things happened under a few minutes, his face full of sweat, and—

Oh.

It was tears.

Mu Qing was back at the mortal realm, standing on the rich, emerald grass. The moistly green trees surrounding him, leaves falling as the wind blew softly. And with the hue of the horizon fading from red to pink, it would've been a good day, by his standards.

But, he's feeling like shit, so it isn't a good day.

Staring at the same sky that was above him throughout the years, he reminisced the times he was in Xian Le; a lowly boy who became someone His Highness acknowledged, someone who brought joy to the street brats whenever he gave them cherries from the city, a son who earnestly took care of his sickly mother. Yet such gentle and joyous memories also came with unpleasant ones.

Under the same sky he was staring at, he remembered the fall of Xian Le, how conflicted he felt when everything came crashing down without allowing him to rest, how he himself questioned his own loyalty and thought if it was the right thing to do–

However, the past has already happened, and Mu Qing has moved on. But after years of never confiding to others and allowing his emotions to pile on each other, it had led to this. Like a pile of leaves that have accumulated in a few days, a single blow from the wind would cause everything to drop.

In short, he's a mess.

And from hiding his true feelings to himself after every unfortunate occurrence, he wasn't able to express himself to others. Whenever he and Feng Xin fought, he wanted to tell him his true feelings, but he could never bring himself to admit it. He's tired of their fights (and anyone would after eight hundred years), but he wasn't sure if Feng Xin felt the same. The next day after their spar, he came to apologize to him which made him even more confused than before.

(“Sorry.” Feng Xin said, staring at his eyes as he stood in front of his palace. Mu Qing, on the other hand, poorly attempted to process what he said, but also didn't fail to notice how the other's hands curled into fists.

“Huh?” He replied.

He hoped the frown on his face wasn't too obvious because he was genuinely surprised and confused. If anything, he should be the one apologizing for suddenly leaving.

Feng Xin sighed, “I don't know if I said anything wrong yesterday, but you were upset. So, I'm here to apologize, even though it seems out of the ordinary.”

Mu Qing couldn't believe it. This man was actually apologizing to him? And here he thought Feng Xin hated his guts. Maybe he did, he never understood what he was thinking, anyway.

But in all honesty, he was thankful that Feng Xin was concerned for him.

And yet, instead of thanking him like what a rational person would do.

“Feng Xin apologizing? Who are you, and what have you done to him?” Mu Qing mocked.

He saw the other's fist tighten while intensely glaring at him. “What the fuck! Can't I just get that out of my chest!?” Feng Xin fumed. “Don't accept it, then! I'm leaving, so fuck off.”

And so, Mu Qing was left standing alone in silence.)

He felt like a lantern lit during the Mid Autumn Festival, slowly rising like his concealed feelings that accumulated throughout the years—

Suddenly, he heard the rustling of grass from behind. He had hoped it wasn't the person who he was thinking of, but like always, it was usually Feng Xin appearing behind him.

“What are you doing here?” He asked coldly, glaring at his golden eyes.

“I heard that you were here,” Feng Xin replied. “So, what are you doing here? Usually, I'm in the mortal realm, not you.”

“Why would you want to know?” Mu Qing retorted, then rolled his eyes.

Talking to Feng Xin was like when the lantern rises higher, consuming whatever it needs in order to become stable. Having a conversation with him while his emotions were a wreck was hurting his head. Especially when the sun was setting in the horizon along with the orange sky that was tinted with a pink hue while Feng Xin stood in front of him.

“It’s not like you to visit here without any business to do.” He replied. “And, I thought I should accompany you. People don’t usually watch sunsets alone.”

And, again, the lantern rises higher. But as the winds hinder its stability, it sways sideways as it attempts to not break. Mu Qing attempted to stabilize his heartbeat, but to no avail, it beats even quicker which sends chills to his body. His chest tightened, and gods, loving him was so difficult.

Yet, he was willing to risk everything.

“What? You’re making this sound like a date.” Mu Qing freezes once he realizes the words he said. His mouth suddenly acted on its own, revealing a part of the thoughts he yearned.

Feng Xin brought his hand to scratch the back of his neck, blushing, as he replied, “Huh? Well, if you want it to be.”

The lantern rises even higher, sooner or later it would explode into pieces. Mu Qing stared blankly at the god before him, dumbfounded by his response. He never thought that Feng Xin’s opinions would be similar to his— if he’s interpreting what he said correctly. He usually had something to retort whenever they talk, but now, he doesn’t even know how to respond to that.

“Don’t— Don’t fuck around.” He stuttered, stepping back from him.

“I’m not! Do you think I would joke about this?!” Feng Xin exasperated. “What do you even think of me?!”

“Obviously, as someone who hates me—”

“I don’t fucking hate you, Mu Qing—!”

“Then why fight with me for centuries!” Mu Qing shouted, startling himself and Feng Xin from the tone of his voice. “What was the purpose of the fights, then!?”

“Well, it's not my fault that you disliked me from the moment we met!” Feng Xin complained. Suddenly he spoke in a much softer tone, “Really, Mu Qing, I don't dislike nor hate you. If I did, I wouldn't have stuck with you after all these years.”

Once more, Mu Qing couldn't believe it. But when he stared at Feng Xin's wide eyes, he could feel the sincerity of his words. And Mu Qing wanted to scream at him, punch his face, or something similar, for he wanted to know whether he was telling the truth or not.

But like a lantern reaching its limit, he explodes; his emotions are freed from its cover and wander all over the place.

“What… Why.. did it take you so long to admit that…?” Mu Qing whispered, too quietly that he himself wasn't even sure if that was his own voice. If it weren't for his blurred vision caused by his own tears, he would've sworn he saw Feng Xin's face break into pieces as well.

Mu Qing released a shaky laugh. “Are you even hearing yourself? I can't believe you, Feng Xin.” He said, although a part of him believed what the other said. “We're rivals—everyone knows that, our own followers acknowledge that. We fought almost daily even before we ascended, our feelings for each other seemed so clear. It seems unbelievable that—”

“I'm sorry,” said Feng Xin.

Mu Qing was speechless. Just as he was about to open his mouth, Feng Xin spoke first.

“I… You're right. It took me too long to admit that. I'm sorry, Mu Qing.” He responded. “It's just… Only recently have I realized my true intentions towards you—which was why I was in the mortal realm the other day. Although you're an asshole and an idiot, you're better at several things than me. And after everything that happened the past year, I realized how we had a lot in common despite arguing all the time.”

He continued, “I never realized how much you were hurting, too, Mu Qing. I'm sorry. I love you, yet I overlooked your pain. And you don't have to accept my apology, I understand if you don't.”

Mu Qing blinks. “...Huh?”

“What…?”

“Can you repeat that?”

“I'm.. sorry…?” Feng Xin furrowed his brows, frowning in the process.

Mu Qing shook his head. “The— the one before that.”

“I lo—” Feng Xin coughs, hard. Mu Qing stared at him in disbelief.

…

Feng Xin loves him?????????

What???????

After a few seconds of silence, Feng Xin breaks the quiet atmosphere.

“I love you.” He said, his face flushed red as he gripped the hem of his pants. “You're too thoughtful—like that time you protected us, even if it caused you to sacrifice yourself a year ago. Too talented—like when you performed along with His Highness eight hundred years ago. Too pretty that my heart can't handle it anymore, an ideal husband, and so much more that there aren't a lot of words to describe how I feel about you.”

“We're rivals, but who said rivals couldn't love each other?”

Mu Qing was dumbstruck, lips slightly parted. His breathing hitched when he finally realized how Feng Xin was already so close to him that he could hear him breathe. He felt callused hands on his cheeks while its thumbs wiped the tears that left his eyes—and, oh, he never noticed he was crying again.

“Y-you dumbass.” He sobbed. “I'm sorry, and I love you.”

“Yeah— What!?” The soft smile on Feng Xin's face was replaced with shock. “You too??? I thought this was one-sided????”

Mu Qing rolled his eyes, but smiled fondly at the god in front of him. “I would've punched you if it wasn't.” He chuckled, “We're both stupid.”

Feng Xin laughed lightly, “Yeah, we're idiots.”

They stared at each other for a few minutes, drowning in the other's captivating eyes as the sky turned golden. The sun was setting, and starting tonight, they will start anew.

“Can I kiss you?” Feng Xin asked, never breaking eye contact with him. “But, it would affect your cultivation path, right? Since you took the same as—”

Mu Qing shuts him up by kissing him.

He could care less about it affecting his cultivation path, for all he cared about was kissing Feng Xin after eight hundred years of bottling up his feelings. Feng Xin's eyes were wide open from surprise, but he soon closed them and melted into the kiss. Mu Qing's heart pounded in his chest, and his knees started to get weaker as he realized how soft his lips felt against his own. Feng Xin surprisingly smelled like cherries, despite being under the sun for a long time—and it felt so intoxicating.

Mu Qing breaks the short-lived kiss, as the both of them remember to breathe again. Their foreheads touched as they stared at each other's equally flushed cheeks. His heart fluttered nonstop, still shocked from everything that happened too quickly for him to believe. Yet now, Mu Qing believed and trusted him. He was an idiot for not noticing that Feng Xin expressed his concern in an unusual way, but it was alright, they were together now and forever.

And according to his own criteria of a good day—the sky was now slightly dark as the sun allowed the moon to take its place, the chirping from the crickets hidden around the trees surrounding them, the cool breeze of the night cooling their warm cheeks, and with Feng Xin smiling brightly and his eyes full of love as he stared at him— today was now, a great day.

“You said I was an ideal husband? Aren't you supposed to ask someone out before proposing?”

“You heard that—!? Then.. then, shut it! So I can ask you out then propose.”