The Legend of Sword and Flute[BL]

The town was quiet again, but not peaceful. Fires had been put out. Beasts sedated. Civilians comforted. Yet the air—stale, heavy, cold—refused to clear. There was something left behind, like a veil that refused to lift.

Yiran stood atop the roof of the herbalist's shop, talismans stuck to both his sleeves like bookmarks and ink stains on his cheeks.

"Suoxue!" he yelled down. "I need five more purification seals, a bottle of moonwater, and someone to massage my shoulders. This much brilliance is exhausting!"

From the ground below, Suoxue didn't even glance up. He was directing disciples with calm, icy precision, his tone clipped, every command executed instantly. His robes were spotless despite the night's chaos. A model leader. A pillar of control.

Yiran, meanwhile, was lying flat on his back now, feet dangling off the edge of the roof, scribbling something into a worn talisman book.

"You're too loud," came Suoxue's voice from below.

"You're too pretty," Yiran called back without hesitation. "One of us has to break the balance."

Suoxue paused. Just a beat. Just enough.

Yiran caught it. He grinned.

Moments later, Suoxue joined him atop the roof, the wind curling around them as mist rolled in from the mountain's base. The town lights flickered below like dim lanterns in a sea of shadow.

"The flags are gone, but the enchantment hasn't lifted," Suoxue said.

Yiran nodded. "That's because the caster is still out there."

He held up a piece of one burned flag—now nothing but ash. "See this? Soul-linked residue. The beasts weren't the real targets. Just a test. A distraction. Someone's watching. Studying. Waiting."

Suoxue's eyes narrowed. "You're sure."

"Suoxue," Yiran said, dramatically placing a hand on his own chest. "I was born sure."

The cold boy gave him a sidelong glance. "You were born loud."

"That too," Yiran agreed, pleased. "But I'm also brilliant. I pieced it all together an hour ago."

Suoxue raised an eyebrow. "Then why are we still here?"

"Because I like the view." Yiran fluttered his eyelashes. "And you, obviously."

Suoxue gave him a blank look.

Yiran leaned in slightly, dropping his voice. "But also... because I'm waiting for the caster to make their next move. And this—this is the perfect bait."

Suoxue blinked slowly. "You're using yourself as bait."

"I'm irresistible," Yiran said simply.

The silence that followed was cut by a low pulse in the ground. A chill swept over them, unnatural and sudden.

Suoxue stood at once. "Formations. Someone's testing boundaries."

Yiran flipped to the back of his book. "And now the real fun begins."

Dark clouds rolled in, though the sky had been clear just minutes ago. A ringing sound echoed through the air—a metallic chime that no one could place.

Down below, disciples began to stir again.

"Something's coming," Yiran said, eyes shining with excitement and just a touch of fear. "Something worse. Something... planned."

Suoxue looked down at the town, then at Yiran. "We leave at dawn. You and I. We'll trace the residue back to its origin."

Yiran tilted his head, smile lazy. "A mission? Just the two of us? My, my, how intimate."

Suoxue didn't reply, but in his eyes—icy blue as ever—there was something else now. A glimmer. A flicker of... fascination.

He turned away. "Don't be late."

Yiran beamed. "I never am. Unless I am."

Behind them, the sky pulsed again—faint and violet this time.

And far beyond Jinyue Mountain, deeper in the forest, something stirred beneath the earth.