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#i could be talking about rcq or about qin huaizhang it's your call
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“Do you ever resent him for taking a wife?”
Ye Baiyi knows the way Wen Kexing likes to press on bruises, relishing in the ripples discomfort creates over the veneer of a pleasant evening. He’s watched the Ghost Valley brat work a a yellowing bruise back to a deep purple on Zhou Zishu’s body often enough to know that it’s as much a literal fascination as it is figurative. 
So Ye Baiyi knows not to take it personally, most of the time.
He lets the question sit in the quiet evening air, inhaling the scent of Zishu’s plum wine as he brings the cup to his lips. He, too, ruminates on the bruise. 
It doesn’t hurt, not in the way Kexing perhaps intends it to - for all the ways their relationship has developed and grown, the brat still tries to find the cracks in Baiyi’s composure. (He is, the old immortal supposes, trying to gauge the depths of his tolerance - where the patience finally frays.)
Baiyi lets his gaze roam over the courtyard, where Zishu lingers over the pin he is whittling and tries not to look like he is holding his breath.
Baiyi is reminded once again just how young these men are, and how unfathomable love can seem.      
“Do you?” he asks Kexing instead, pouring the er-shixiong of Siji Manor another cup.
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