Some butterflies are naturally drawn to the sweetness of honey; others, to the lethal allure of the blade. Some are new to the world, born a week ago; others carry the weight of centuries. No, not all butterflies are the same, and the dichotomy of Kirihito was becoming acutely clear.
"Cover yourself, or gods know what you'll do now to those men," Xio whispered, their footsteps moving in the synchronized rhythm of their walk deeper into the market.
Then, Kirihito's steps stopped abruptly. Xio blinked, looking back at his companion. Before he could question the halt, Kirihito spoke, his voice tight with stubborn, childish annoyance. "Don't speak like that Kyōren again! Wèi can't stand him!"
Xio sighed, instantly recalling the events of the previous night and Kirihito's fierce aversion to the mention of the man who had wronged him. But he had to maintain control, or their mission would shatter.
Without a word, Xio pulled the white scarf he'd wrapped around Kirihito's neck and drew it up, covering his head like a deep hood.
Kirihito began to protest, but Xio cut him off with a pointed hiss. "Last night you wore a hood, and now a scarf makes you annoyed? Did your dignity wash away in the shower water or something?"
Kirihito growled low in his throat, his face flushing crimson with a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment. Butterfly always does to Wèi what he loves! he thought furiously.
The Dark Voice chimed in, smooth and condescending: Cutie little baby bird like you always needs a guide. But I don't need one. I'm a hundred, all alone.
Kirihito immediately shot back mentally: If you're a hundred, then Wèi is double hundred. Wèi has a butterfly, but you don't even have a caterpillar.
The Dark Voice fell silent for a moment, an unsettling pause that suggested hurt or reflection. But it answered, its tone regaining its composure: I don't need any butterfly, nor any caterpillar. I am not weak enough to need someone to protect or lend against.
Xio's voice cut through their internal battle, sharp and tense. "I won't tolerate that same desire-play here that you pulled at Bayakuya Village's honoring ceremony. So keep some measure of purity here." He hissed this warning just as Kirihito reached up to remove the scarf.
Xio was fighting to keep his appearance of Lan Suji—a man known to be reserved, quiet, and not openly affectionate—while the internal pressure mounted. He was grappling with an unnamed feeling of dread that Kirihito would pull another public stunt, exposing their presence and alerting the Yin Lan Clan or, worse, rival demonic cult clans.
"You will not look at any man's eyes, nor talk to them. And... nor remove this scarf. That is the final warning. This is not my own land to adjust things for us!" Xio suddenly snapped, gripping Kirihito's upper arm. His voice was a strange mix of annoyance and pleading horror, a crack in the perfect Lan Suji facade that actually startled Kirihito.
"A-alright, alright! Wèi will not remove it! Stop making dying butterfly faces now! You're already wearing a different face!" Kirihito responded quickly, forcing a nervous, childish smile.
Xio released him, taking a deep, shuddering breath. He realized he had nearly ruined his disguise, momentarily looking like a worried, panicked zombie version of Suji. To change the mood, he desperately searched for a new topic.
Kirihito looked at him, silently questioning: What's wrong now? Nothing more to say? Xio did not meet his eyes, his posture rigid—one hand politely behind his back, the other folded near his chest, the white robe of the Lan flowing dramatically around his disguised dark-bluish hair.
Kirihito wondered: Butterfly got lost in that Suji insect that he doesn't hear Wèi. Wèi is getting bored now...
Suddenly, Kirihito's eyes fell upon a large wall to their left. Xio noticed the focus and turned, a faint smile touching his lips. He had found their first point of interest.
The wall was covered in a majestic portrait featuring four prominent figures of Yǐngluò Chéng. It was a beautiful, large mural painted in silver, blue, and rich violet. Below, depicted with calm dignity, were Lan Suiren and the man Xio was currently impersonating, Lan Suji. They stood straight, gentlemen of the highest order, their swords sheathed.
Above them were the two towering figures of the Hàngwō Sect, adorned in deep violet robes, with the half-moon symbol painted on their headbands, crowns, and sleeve hems. These were Hàngwō Yīn Qīng and Hàngwō Qīngdào Wùji. Their hands were raised, their swords pointing upward, an undeniable visual declaration of their superior status as the main pillar of all the surrounding states.
Kirihito silently analyzed the entire piece with keen interest; art, in all its forms, was always in his blood.
But the Dark Side was particularly fixated on one face: Hàngwō Qīngdào Wùji. It tracked Wùji's pale violet eyes and dark violet hair—the image of a perfect, untouchable prince. That beautiful violet insect... looks interesting to play with... but... why does he look a little similar to that bustard face?
He meant Suji's face, noting the strong resemblance, though Wùji clearly carried a higher standard of aloof beauty. Kirihito also noted the similarity in their names: Wùji and Suji.
Kirihito agreed with his inner voice: Wèi agrees with it because he's beautiful... but he looks like he has no emotion. He looks like an insect statue! Kirihito finished with a dramatic, childish mental tone.
Sensing Kirihito's intense focus, Xio spoke to lighten the mood, a flicker of something akin to jealousy disturbing his calm. He cleared his throat and lightly gripped his sleeves.
"You... like that portrait?" Xio asked softly. Kirihito tilted his head, acknowledging the question, and nodded.
Xio continued, "It's actually four powerful males here. But the violet-robed ones are at the top, belonging to the Hàngwō Sect. They are mainly official angelic cultivators. But there are rumors that Unofficial demonic cultivators exist too, hidden as Lánxiè."
"Ooh... those insects look beautiful to kill. They don't look cheap," Kirihito mused thoughtfully, though his interest wasn't the shameless eagerness of his dark side. Kirihito didn't actually like Wùji or Suji; he disliked the emotionless beauty of statue-like people. His ideal "type" was beauty mixed with purity, while his usual targets were beauty mixed with pride, neither of which ever lasted in his heart.
The Dark Side spoke then, shamelessly eager:
Ask your butterfly if that Wùji is actually Suji's twin brother, whose father was from the Hàngwō Sect and mother from the Yin Lan Clan. The rebirth of Yángjī Yù Wàngjī, who was the fifth son of Wù Hángjī!
Kirihito blinked behind his blindfold. This was too much information for his mind to process; he felt a dizzying spin, almost losing his balance.
Xio quickly caught him. "Eh? What's wrong so suddenly?" he asked, confused.
Before Kirihito could answer, the Dark Voice struck again: What's wrong? Why aren't you asking him?!
Kirihito snapped back internally: If you know this much, like you watched that insect eat and born, then how will Wèi's butterfly or Wèi know if that insect was his son?! Stop asking Wèi those Wèi doesn't know, and surely Butterfly doesn't know too! He's only twenty-six!
The Dark Side hissed: You stubborn, tiny brain! You'll ask him or I should make you?! It's important for me!
Kirihito asked: Why is it important to you?!
The Dark Side replied: It's my personal thing! You just ask him as I said!
Kirihito said : you're in Wèi! How you've personal thing huh ?!
His dark voice said, almost impatient :That's not any tasty fruit for you to know or eat! Personal means personal! Just ask . Him !!
Kirihito retorted: Then where did you bring that rotten fruit! Wèi doesn't need it to know nor eat!
Xio, completely bewildered by the sound of Kirihito's low murmuring, asked, "What are you... murmuring to yourself??"
Kirihito quickly stood straight. "A... Wèi is hungry, so the world was circling! Let's go eat something!" He immediately grabbed Xio's hand and pulled.
"Wait! You don't know anything here!" Xio tried to protest, his Lan Suji façade cracking under the sudden rush. His hair flew behind him as he dodged several approaching humans.
"May gods bless you, Làrà Kùmsūn!" a man called out.
"Who are you running with, my lord?!" a woman selling fruits shrieked.
"Please do come at our shop, Suji Kùmsūn!" a jewelry shopkeeper yelled.
Xio could only offer a nervous, polite smile, his mind racing: Where is Kirihito even taking me? Why is he acting like this? To whom was he speaking? He knew his perfect Lan Suji act had just been slightly ruined.
Kirihito dragged him swiftly toward a popular restaurant in the area named Yīn Yīnģxìaõ (蔭影嘯)—so popular that even Hàngwō Sect and high-ranking Yin Lan Clan members often dined there.
Xio realized the potential disaster immediately. He feared he might run directly into the real Lan Suji, or worse, the high-ranking Hàngwō males. If Suji was already present, his disguise was dead.