A Blade and an Arrow

Silver Brown

"Stop touching my hair."

"But it smells so go-"

"That's precisely why you should stop touching it, lest smudging it with your filth."

Mu Qing rolled his eyes as Feng Xin grunted. "Petulant." He remarks tediously, earning an exasperated glare.

"You care more about your hair than me." The martial God mused, pointing at the silver hair that glistened at the ray of sunlight, most of because of the liquids the silverette had massaged it into. "Treating it so nice and well. Even adding lavender perfume and hair oil just to smack it in my face-"

"It's not just to smack it in your face." Mu Qing huffs, "Atleast I care about my hair. Letting it loose from time to time unlike yours."

"What about mine?"

"What about yours?" The silverette asked incredulously. Stepping forward before tugging on the long red ribbon that had tied the brown hair into a tight bun. Even when they were mortals, Feng Xin had been tying his hair into a bun, claiming that it only gets in his way and isn't really interested in smacking it in other people's face - unlike Mu Qing who seemed to be enjoying it at that - and even after he had ascended, his simplicity in fashion and style haven't faltered. "Keeping it tied so tight like that, I'm surprised it hadn't turned into a ghost to haunt its master because it couldn't breath."

Feng Xin scoffed, "Have you been so obsessed with your hair that you think shit can breath?"

Mu Qing tugged on the ribbon rougher, "I'm saying that if you won't even loosen it for more than an hour, it would grow frizzly and rough. Hell, even with split-ends." He lifted his hands, shooting Feng Xin a pointed look that if dares to intervene to what he was about to do, he'll be leaving his palace bald.

"And?"

"And?"

"Hair isn't even something I give a shit about. Wash it and you're done. It's nothing serious." Mu Qing smacked the back of his head, "Ow - what was that for?!"

Mu Qing tsked, pulling out the guan that sat on top before untying the ribbon that wasn't even neatly tied, letting the brown, disheveled hair bounce out of the bun. He inspected a lock of hair, mentally sighing in relief when it wasn't as damaged as he thought, "Hair is serious. You're just too ignorant about it." He pulled out a comb he always kept inside his robes and gently brushed it along the curls.

Feng Xin wrinkled his nose in annoyance, forcing himself to sit on the grass after the other pushed him down, "I'm a Martial God, I don't need to care for my hair if it won't benefit me."

Mu Qing pointedly ignored that statement, tilting his head to the side to glance at the obviously irritated face of the other, "Would you like lavender, jasmine, geranium or peony?"

"Those are all feminine-"

"These all smells nice." Mu Qing says as a matter-of-fact. Putting down the comb and pulled a small box of fragrances and another smaller box of oils, mostly oils that goes along well with peony and geranium. "Now choose."

Feng Xin was aware of his slightly toxic masculinity, and completely aware of how bad his taste in fragrances were, lest he picks something that would smell terribly awful together; "Why don't you choose?"

Mu Qing hums in satisfaction, fingers lightly brushing along the hair for any missed tangles as he smoothed it. "You really should take care of your hair and not just wash it and call it a day." He picked out jasmine oil from the smaller box, "Look how dry it feels now." He comments before taking out a brush, thinking the comb wouldn't really help for now.