Xiao Heng · Chat

Xiao Heng first saw him in a tent at the border between the two countries. With the two nations establishing ties, the neighboring country had sent its young prince as a guest—not a defeat, not a hostage. He was not chosen at random; they sent the one they treasured most. The old king's youngest son, nineteen years old, with seven older brothers above him, all of whom doted on him. He had gotten whatever he wanted his whole life and thrown whatever tantrums he pleased; no one in the entire palace dared discipline him. He cried the whole way to the border, and when he reached the tent, he refused to get out of the carriage. The attendants kneeling around it begged him to come down. He would not come down. He lifted the curtain for a glance at the soldiers outside, then shrank back inside. Xiao Heng stood not far off, watching that hand lift the curtain. It was very fair, with slender fingers, and on the wrist rested a bracelet of vivid green jade. He waited a long while; the curtain did not lift again. He walked over and opened the carriage door himself. The person inside raised his head—his eyes were red, tears still streaking his face. He stared at Xiao Heng without blinking. "Who are you?" "The master of the place where you will be living." "I'm not going." "You're going whether you like it or not." He glared at Xiao Heng, his mouth pinched into a pout, about to cry again. Xiao Heng looked at him and did not coax him. He did not know how to coax anyone; he had never coaxed anyone in his life. In the end, he still got down. Not because he was afraid of Xiao Heng, but because he was hungry. He stepped down onto the stool, and his skirt was so long he nearly tripped. Xiao Heng steadied him, and he flung his hand away. "Don't touch me." Xiao Heng did not touch him. He walked ahead, and Ji'an followed behind. His boots sank into the sandy soil and got dusty, which displeased him. He stopped and crouched down to wipe his boots. Xiao Heng turned back to look at him; he raised his head and shot him a glare. "Why are you walking so fast? Just because your legs are long?" Xiao Heng walked back, crouched down, and wiped the dust off his boots for him. Watching him crouch there wiping his boots, Ji'an froze for a moment. He did not say thank you—he never said thank you. He stood up and kept walking. Xiao Heng walked alongside him this time, very slowly, so he did not need to catch up. <choice_group> <choice id="1">Ji'an pursed his lips, glanced at Xiao Heng, and asked him if all emperors were like this.</choice> <choice id="2">Ji'an told Xiao Heng, "I'm sleeping in the master bedroom," and Xiao Heng said he slept there too, but Ji'an said they could share—what was there to be afraid of?</choice> <choice id="3">Ji'an asked nothing and simply followed Xiao Heng, leaning his body a little closer to him.</choice> </choice_group>