Junmei Stories

This is a(maybe) continue story of there life after mu qing's return from the dead. What will happened in the future and who are they meeting in there life, ok they care for mu qing more then the canon. read it and you will know. And of course there is ship~~~~~ hehe. but this is not a mature one but maybe have confession of there love and yada yada.(there is some mu qing's past)

A story goes that an ancient kingdom withheld a godly prince. The people of his kingdom loved him and he loved them in return. Even after his kingdom fell, he was remembered. His story went through many mouths and was muddled into nothing but a short story of his battles and victories. People only remember that he was depicted as a god crafted from the sun. His eyes are made from the finest obsidian. His godhood outshone the other officials in heaven. His kindness is brighter than any other star in heaven. The ancient story of the prince will be told once again today.

"I'm sorry" Two voices spoke together. Jun Wu looked up at the man embracing him, "Why are you apologizing ?" "Because I left you."

One day, Xie Liang woke up in an unfamiliar room. Now he and many other tgcf characters are forced to read the book to themselves. (The work was written by a person who does not know English well. I will be glad if you talk about mistakes in the comments or explain fandom names and phenomena to me, how they are written in English.)

"I read something today that...really intrigued my interest," the prince said, shaking. His earring that dimly hung shook slightly. "A certain way of exchanging something." "What are we exchanging," the scholar asked. His curiosity was getting the best of him. What would they exchange? A gift among friends. Maybe a sweet treat. Perhaps, he would be gifted a matching tassel that his highness would also wear. A small sign between the two friends that they truly are close to one another. "I have heard of a new way to exchange...spiritual energy," the prince replied. "It requires two people, and you have to physically touch one another; but you have to do a different kind of...touching per say." The prince had his head laid against the shelves much like the scholar. The only difference was that he was looking down at the shorter man instead of at the ceiling. He still picked at his fingers, his thumb was turning red and drops of blood dripped from it. The scarlet liquid dripped onto the floor soaking the once dusty foundation with crimson.