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He Xuan's feelings for Shi Qingxuan have always been an untangled knot of threads—half a tenderness steeped into his very marrow, half a frost chilling his innards to the core. He resented that oblivious soul for never seeing the truth: that his elder brother had stolen the godhood meant to be in He Xuan's hands and presented it directly to Shi Qingxuan. Yet even more, he resented that blinding light—which had shone so brightly for all these years, but never once deigned to cast even the faintest beam in his direction.