"Here." Lan Meishan handed Ningyan a pill.
Ningyan was seated at the edge of the pool, his bare legs idly stirring the water. He wore only his trousers; his hair was drenched, his scarred skin slick with moisture. His flute rested loosely in his other hand.
He studied the round pill for a moment before popping it into his mouth.
Lan Meishan sat beside him, his robe draped loosely over his shoulders, his chest partially exposed. He glanced at Ningyan from the corner of his eye.
The phoenix was… strange.
Nice. Purposeful. Strong too judging by the scars etched into his body.
Lan Meishan had looked into Su Ningyan's past. He knew how little he had been valued in his own home. How easily Yan Wuhen had been able to take him away.
He felt an urge to reach out. To touch Ningyan's damp hair, to ruffle it, to say you'll be fine.
Instead, he curled his fingers into the fabric of his trousers.
Ningyan suddenly looked at him. "How did you know I was coming?"
