Sometimes, souls do not require a familiar visage to recognize each other across the chaos of existence. Sometimes, a single, deliberate crimson ribbon can serve as the burning thread keeping two intertwined, even in the heart of a surging crowd. It is a declaration, a bold choice to wear red even when one is intrinsically defined by black and gold. This, it seemed, was the decree of fate.
"I will tell you this once, and for the last time," Xio reminded him as they stepped into the main thoroughfare of Yǐngluò Chéng. His hand remained securely clasped around Kirihito's slender wrist, a grip that felt both protective and possessively firm—but in a way that offered comfort. "You will not go anywhere without me."
"Wèi isn't a baby birdie that needs holding like this," Kirihito mumbled, his beautiful lips curved into a soft, adorable pout as he walked. "And Wèi will follow you. You just don't get lost in those colorful insects."
"I should be the one saying that, not you," Xio retorted, pulling Kirihito gently but firmly away from a fruit stall that suddenly drew his attention.
As they moved deeper, the architecture shifted. The surrounding houses, especially on the east side, bore the distinct silver-blue roofs of the Yin Lan Clan. This entire district was under their meticulous control. The Yin Lan Clan, being one of the top five secondary high-class clans, commanded significant land and population, a testament to their influence and status.
For a long moment, Kirihito was unusually quiet, his mouth slightly parted and his cheeks flushed as he took in the sheer beauty of the city. His mind was a whirlwind of observations.
First, the aesthetics: The market was a stunning display of wealth. Vibrant crimson lanterns and candles for sale drew the eye. Above their heads, sheer silver-blue veils were draped softly across the narrow market street, interspersed with large, same-colored umbrellas that danced gently in the breeze. The shops, lining both sides of the road, were surprisingly gorgeous, selling everything from jewels to fine robes and, most importantly, bright, inviting fruits. Kirihito's mouth watered, but he remained in control; he hadn't spotted any dragon fruits yet.
His second, more pressing internal conflict revolved around the Dark Voice. The sudden, unwelcome flashes—the broken, glitching images he saw at the back of his head—made him question his own sanity. Were they merely hallucinations or horrifying memories? Because of these serious, unsettling thoughts, Kirihito was strangely compliant, deliberately holding back his usual urge to cause mischief. He was trying to keep his promise to Xio.
Xio noticed the change in demeanor but attributed the quietness to the overwhelming sights, refraining from asking a pointed question.
"Never thought insects had this much brain to decorate this way," Kirihito whispered to himself, his gaze fixed on the ceiling of decorations. He circled slightly, his eyes still upwards, and almost collided with a passing human, but Xio caught him in the nick of time.
"Look forward, not upward or backward," Xio hissed lightly, keeping his voice low.
"Welcome here as always, Làrà Kùmsūn!" The man Kirihito nearly bumped into greeted Xio (as Lan Suji) with an excited smile.
"Thank you very much," Xio replied, perfecting his persona with a polite, faint smile and a slight bow. The demeanor was flawlessly Lan Suji.
Kirihito, pulled behind Xio, glared at the man. If Wèi wasn't told to stay calm, Wèi would play with that insect's head too... that insect looks kind of fun to play with. He shook his head slightly. Nono! Wèi just doesn't want to ruin the adventure and Butterfly's mood, so... Wèi will be softer than Wèi really is.
The man, a local acquaintance, noticed that their distinguished Lan Suji was accompanied by a strikingly pale, beautiful man wearing stark black and red—a color scheme that stood out like a black-and-red butterfly among the silver-blue and white of Yǐngluò Chéng.
"May I know who... that guy with you is? He looks unfamiliar here. I've never seen him with you." The man hesitated, then added, "Well... he is beautiful."
The compliment was delivered with awe, a testament to Kirihito's otherworldly charm that defied Xio's meager disguise attempt. Kirihito, always proud of praise, was about to smirk fully, feeling that rush of being untouchable.
But Xio ruined the moment, quickly pulling him further behind his back.
Xio swallowed hard. He was acutely aware that Kirihito's spiritual curse made him a magnet for attention and unwanted desire.. especially when he focused his powerful gaze. He found the best safe lie. "He is actually my... pen friend.
We never met before today, only corresponded through letters. So today, I've brought him to have a tour with me." Xio delivered the lie with a flawless, polite smile.
Kirihito, peaking out from behind Xio's shoulder, was utterly confused. His hand rested lightly on Xio's shoulder as he mumbled, "What is a pen friend?"
Xio discreetly pinched Kirihito's wrist—a sharp, quiet warning—which made Kirihito hiss softly in annoyance.
"Don't ruin my act," Xio whispered with the speed of wind. "I'll tell you later..and make sure to hide your pretty face from that crowd.."
Kirihito huffed, crossing his arms and looking away, muttering words only he understood, though Xio clearly caught the phrase: always scolds Wèi.
The man, not quite understanding the subtle tension, simply believed Xio's convincing lie. "Oh, I see, I see, my lord! Have a good time!" he said before moving on.
Once they were alone, Xio sighed and continued walking, his posture now fully adopting Lan Suji's formal politeness. He let go of Kirihito's hand; Lan Suji would never hold anyone's hand in public. Xio had clearly studied Suji's mannerisms meticulously.
"Don't walk far. Stay beside me. I can't guide you like that in public," Xio whispered, ensuring no passerby could hear.
"Hmph. Wèi will... but you didn't explain that 'pen friend' thing. When did Wèi write you any letter?" Kirihito asked softly, walking obediently side-by-side.
"It... means friends who talked only by letters, but never saw each other," Xio explained quickly. "It was only to save ourselves. You've never written me a letter. We just met last night," he finished, clearing his throat.
Kirihito mulled over the concept, then a soft, curious smile appeared on his face. "Should Wèi write a letter for Butterfly too?~" he asked, tilting his head and looking up at Xio.
Xio was silently surprised by the genuine desire in the snake. He stayed silent for a brief moment before replying. "You... can write when you are far and you miss my neck to dip your fangs into." His tone felt both a sift mock yet folding..
Kirihito pouted softly. He would have appreciated the teasing more if the face and voice were familiar.
He wasn't entirely satisfied. He huffed when his ponytail came loose, realizing one of the red ribbons was gone. He struggled to re-bind it; he was clearly used to leaving his long hair open.
"Let me fix it," Xio whispered. In a few practiced seconds, he re-secured the remaining hair with the single ribbon. He then took out his own secondary red ribbon and tore it in two pieces.
"Ah... you've ruined Kirihito's hair ribbon," Kirihito said with dramatic woe, as if Xio had destroyed something infinitely precious.
Xio then bound one piece of the ribbon around his own left index finger and the other around Kirihito's corresponding finger, gently pressing their hands together so Kirihito could see the connection.
Kirihito looked at their pale fingers pressed together, the crimson ribbon a burning streak against their skin. He didn't know what to say.
"Lan Suji never wears red," Xio spoke, his voice steady and clear. "He only gets red when he bleeds. But I am wearing red for you. While my own clan only wears black and gold. Is this enough to recognize me in the crowd?" Xio's gaze was serious, silently asking for a promise.
Kirihito's cheeks flushed again, struck by the inherent poetry of the gesture. He nodded eagerly. "Wèi can recognize you in the crowd by this... ribbon. Even if the real face one comes here."
Xio smiled faintly, satisfied. With their new, silent pact secured, they moved deeper into the bustling heart of the Yǐngluò Chéng market, ready to discover more of its beauty—and perhaps its ugliness.