Two Rabbits Running Side by Side, Part 2

“…Who’s afraid?”

Yun Yao stood like a rigid pole beside the misty bath pool, eyes fixed on her nose, nose on her heart, refusing to glance at the water even once.
“This young master simply isn’t used to bathing with others… Even with another man, it’s not happening!”

From beneath the bronze mask, a low, mocking chuckle escaped, dripping with disbelief. “Is that so? Never once?”

The taunting tone inexplicably reminded Yun Yao of her past life, of the “good deeds” she’d done in the hot spring behind her cave dwelling on Tianxuan Peak. Guilt surged, and her voice hardened unconsciously.
“Of course not!”

“Fine,” came the reply, accompanied by the ripple of water. Snow-white hair spread across the pool’s surface like a silver-scaled dragon under moonlight, glinting as it drifted. The man leaned lazily against the jade stone, propping his forehead and gazing up at her. “But when did I say I wanted you to bathe with me?”

“…Hm?”
Yun Yao instinctively turned her head.
Her eyes met a pair of abyss-dark pupils shimmering in the faint light.

“Come here,” Mu Hanyuan’s voice, softened and husky from the steam, carried a teasing lilt. “Comb my hair.”

Yun Yao: “…”
“?”

He turned slightly in the water, his smooth, jade-like skin stirring ripples that spread outward. Though Yun Yao stood on the pool’s stone edge, her heart felt a dizzying sway, as if caught in those ripples. Like a small boat on a stormy sea, she was lifted higher with each wave, teetering on the edge of being swallowed.

Several breaths passed without movement.

The new city lord, masked in bronze, seemed to grow impatient. He tilted his face, the unmasked jawline sharp and cold, water tracing the elegant curve of his neck.
“Why aren’t you coming?”

Yun Yao snapped back to herself, her cheeks burning with delayed heat. “I agreed to be your guard, not to do things like combing hair—that’s a maid’s job! Should I fetch someone else for you—”

“My only personal maid was taken by you, wasn’t she?”

Whether intentional or not, he emphasized “personal,” making Yun Yao’s brow twitch.
She halted mid-turn.
“So, what, everything Xiao Ling used to do, I have to do for you now?”

“Xiao Ling?”
From beneath the bronze mask, his eyes narrowed, glinting dangerously. “Barely a day, and you’re already so familiar with her…”

“Hm?”

Yun Yao didn’t catch his muttered words, stepping closer to the pool’s edge.

Mu Hanyuan said, “What if I want you to do everything she did?”

“I’m your guard,” Yun Yao gritted her teeth, “not your maid.”

Mu Hanyuan laughed. “You must have misremembered. Last night, I said I wanted you as my *personal* guard, not some ordinary sword-wielding lackey standing by.”

Yun Yao froze.

Last night, as he held Xiao Ling’s neck and glanced carelessly at her, he had indeed said…

[*You’ll be my personal guard.*]

“…”
Yun Yao’s heart caught as the memory hit.
He was right.

“You tricked me.” Her fingers slowly clenched around her sword.

“Blame yourself for being so eager to save her that you lost your sense,” Mu Hanyuan’s smile was cold. “Or, if you regret it, return the maid now.”

Yun Yao’s eyes flickered. “If I return her, you’ll—”

Mu Hanyuan’s voice was light. “Kill her.”

Yun Yao: “…”

In just eight months, how had Mu Hanyuan become someone she barely recognized?

“The city lord seems quite leisurely,” Yun Yao said, stepping closer with unease, her tone mocking. “The southern Two儀 City is under siege, and the Black Tortoise Guard will reach the north gate in half an hour. Yet here you are, bathing and asking for your hair to be combed?”

“Matters outside are handled by others.”
His lazy voice didn’t waver.
“They won’t disturb us. Just do what I tell you.”

“…”

On the long table by the pool, Yun Yao picked up the jade comb carved from goat horn.
Awkwardly, she half-crouched by the pool, gesturing dismissively at the reflection of his bronze mask in the water. “Come closer, I can’t reach.”

Mu Hanyuan stiffened briefly, then complied, leaning back a few inches against the pool’s stone edge.

Yun Yao hesitated, reaching into the water to lift a strand of his snow-white hair.
Contrary to the icy touch she expected, it was soft and warm, flowing like liquid silver through her palm, as if it might slip away if she wasn’t careful.

She raised the comb.

The room fell silent, breaths hushed, leaving only the gentle lapping of water.
Her movements were clumsy, unpracticed. Despite her caution, her fingertip brushed his scalp once.

He shuddered, his eyes snapping up.

In the pool, his sleek back muscles tensed into sharp arcs, a faint flush creeping up his neck, as if some suppressed emotion threatened to erupt, making the air heavy with tension.
Yun Yao froze. “I didn’t mean to…”

His fingers, submerged, clenched and released.

After a few breaths, his low, hoarse voice asked, “You don’t seem curious about my hair color.”

Yun Yao blinked, glancing at the silver strands between her fingers. “The demon clans are diverse, with all sorts of forms. Hair color isn’t unusual.”

“And you?”

“What?” she replied absently.

“Do you prefer black hair or snow-white?”

The comb paused in his hair. Yun Yao looked up, puzzled. “Does it matter?”

“Of course. If different hair colors mean different people, which would you choose?” Mu Hanyuan’s eyes locked onto hers in the water’s reflection, offering no escape.

Yun Yao thought, then smiled faintly. “I’d choose the one who stays by my side forever.”

“…”

The water’s reflection trembled. He froze, staring at her mirrored image, motionless.

Snapping back, Yun Yao tilted her head, drawling, “City… Lord… Sir?”

Mu Hanyuan’s eyes flickered.
For a fleeting moment, a savage glint flashed across his hidden face beneath the mask—

She saw him suddenly bend forward, clutching his chest as if struck by intense, sudden pain, the veins on his neck bulging violently.

Yun Yao, alarmed, knelt by the pool, raising her hand to channel spiritual energy into him. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Should I—”

Before her hand touched his back, her wrist was seized with crushing force.
Wincing, she looked up, meeting his abyssal eyes as he turned.
Fury, hatred, pain, longing, yearning—emotions so raw they drowned her like a tidal wave.

The next moment, his grip softened, replaced by an unyielding pull—

*Splash!*

Yun Yao was dragged into the misty pool.

Mu Hanyuan pinned her against the cold jade stone, the scalding spring water boiling around them, yet it paled against the searing heat in his eyes beneath the mask, gazing down at her.

So close—the steamy mist, his burning breath, their overlapping heartbeats, the rise and fall of his chest—she could feel it all.
Her breathing hitched, her mind blank, thoughts frozen.
Her last shred of reason kept her from blurting “Mu Hanyuan.”

In the depths of his soul, she glimpsed two shadows, black and white, swirling like a yin-yang diagram.

What… was that?

Her sea of consciousness trembled, the invisible shockwave shaking her soul.

“Take it off.” His voice, low and hoarse, brushed her ear.

“What…?”

Her wrist was pinned against the stone by his veined hand, his breath heavy, almost possessed. He leaned closer, the cold bronze mask grazing her neck and collarbone.
He guided her wrist toward his face.
“The mask. Take it off.”

“—”

Yun Yao’s fingers clenched, her last thread of reason teetering. “City Lord, look clearly at who I am. Have you mistaken me for someone else?”

But he pried her fingers open, forcing them to the mask.

Caught between cold and heat, her reason screamed.
She struggled. “City Lord—”

“Take it off…”
His breath, scalding against her collarbone through the mask, felt like it would burn her. The cold metal grazed her neck like a caged beast’s kiss, its fangs locked behind, inches from her throat. She felt both his predatory sharpness and unrestrained desire.

“Take it off.”

“—I won’t.” Yun Yao turned her face, her voice breaking.

She’d be mad to look.
Removing his mask would be like opening a beast’s cage, freeing its chained neck.

At that moment—

Beyond the pool’s curtain, the clank of armor and swords echoed in the chamber.
Heavy footsteps stopped outside.
“Report, City Lord.”

“—”

Yun Yao froze between the stone and Mu Hanyuan’s form, her lashes trembling as she glanced back.

Mu Hanyuan, still gripping her, lifted the mask from her neck, turning toward the White Tiger Guard’s Right Envoy’s silhouette beyond the curtain.

“Speak.”

“As ordered, the Vermilion Bird Guard’s seventh camp has surrendered. An hour ago, we lured the Black Tortoise Guard into a trap at Changyi Canyon, surrounding their ten thousand elite soldiers in Tianyun Abyss. Should we accept their surrender, City Lord?”

“…”

With each word, Yun Yao’s heart sank further.
When the report ended, she couldn’t help but study the cold, unfamiliar bronze mask before her.

As Feng Qinglian said, there was no desperate crisis, no three-city siege. Instead, feigning pursuit by the Vermilion Bird, retreating to Two儀 City, luring the Black Tortoise Guard into a trap, and surrounding them…
It was all Mu Hanyuan’s plan.
And all this—was it really for—

“The White Tiger Division never accepts surrender,” Mu Hanyuan said, his icy gaze meeting hers through the mask. “Kill them all. Bury them in Tianyun Abyss.”

“—!”

As his words fell, his body shuddered.
He doubled over, nearly collapsing onto Yun Yao, veins bulging, trembling on the verge of breaking.

Yun Yao instinctively steadied him, her fingers clenching, unable to act.
She gritted her teeth. “This defies the Heavenly Way.”

“…The Heavenly Way? You sound like *her* now!” Mu Hanyuan’s voice, hoarse with bitter laughter, fought his turbulent consciousness. “She doesn’t understand, but you should! If the heavens were just, would you and I even exist?!”

“What?”
Yun Yao’s confusion mixed with alarm. She bit back “Mu Hanyuan,” whispering sharply, “What’s wrong with you—”

In a fleeting glance, she saw it again—black and white soul shadows in his eyes, like yin-yang inverting, flipping heaven and earth.
She froze.

Beyond the curtain, the Right Envoy, hearing a stranger’s voice, spun back, slicing through the fabric with his blade, his tiger-like eyes glaring into the mist. “Who dares trespass the City Lord’s chamber?!”

Yun Yao looked up, startled.

Before she could break free, her wrist was gripped, pinned to the round stone.

The bronze mask fell into the pool.
A clear, ethereal face emerged.

Dark eyes like ink, lips thin as cherry petals, he lowered his forehead, black hair spilling over Yun Yao’s pale neck.
Like a kiss, it lingered by her ear.

Unlike before, his grip on her wrist was gentle, like being bound by soft silk.
His fingers brushed her inner wrist delicately.

As if confirming something, Mu Hanyuan closed his eyes, pressing a kiss to her earlobe.

“…Master.”

“—!”

Yun Yao stiffened.

A few yards away, the Right Envoy, witnessing his City Lord pinning a beautiful youth against the stone in an intimate act, stood thunderstruck, his soul seemingly leaving his body.

*Clang.*

His blade slipped from his hand, crashing to the ground.