[ He feels his face flush at the thanks, and then pales when Xingchen declines the protection. Saying he can handle the truth. Xue Yang digs fingers into his thighs to hold silent against the flash of memory. Of a sword slicing tender flesh.

Followed by a sickening thud of a body to the ground. He watches Xingchen unhappily until the questioning moves on.

Then he relaxes again. Pain easing to warmth unbidden, even a shy smile teases at his lips as he thinks about the day he'd married Zichen.

Xingchen...happy for them. If they're happy. And then the confession has him jerk to his feet, though he stops himself from stepping close again. Only plops back in the chair he'd left a little bit ago.

He doesn't quite dare fling himself at the precious man as he had before. It's enough (or so he tells himself) that Xingchen isn't running away. It's enough he's not trying to stab him again. ]

You will see! He's not upset with you. I want - yes. You should. We won't force you just - let us...stay near? We've missed you.

[ Hope. That's what that confession lights in his heart. ]

Will you stay here with us? There's space, and you will see...there is nothing false about...any of this.