Fang Zheng walked slowly—not paying attention to the world around him, drowning in his own thoughts before suddenly pausing. He could faintly hear whispers "He's at B rank…still better than Fang Yuan."
Fang Zheng paused, feeling the weight of their judgment. They didn't know him. They didn't know what he had become. The barrier? He didn't feel it. But why should he care to cross it?
His feet shifted, turning, making a deliberate course back.
Fang Yuan, oh his dear elder brother Fang Yuan.
'Oh my dear brother Fang Yuan, when did we drift so far apart?'
A strike. Then another. Fang Yuan's shocked expression was the only thing that made Fang Zheng's heart race—delight, not fear. It was the only thing that mattered at that moment when hatred filled his veins. The elders scrambled, a chorus of shouts and restraining hands pulling him back away from his brother.
"Gu Yue Fang Zheng! What are you doing?" they shouted.
But Fang Zheng didn't answer. His eyes were locked on the face of the boy who had shared his same blood, his brother that he had spent years being compared to, the brother he no longer felt anything for.
he snapped out of his daze, 'why would he ever think of harming his brother? The brother who had raised and taken care of him.?'
Fang Zheng continued to walk forward until there was no longer any place to walk, it was only then did he turn back, drifting in and out of consciousness, why did the world see so blurry today? Was that one night of restlessness impacting him that harshly?
"Fang Zheng! Congratulations you're an A rank!"
'Ah….'
"Really?" Fang Zheng's voice was slightly high pitched like he was nervous, under everyone's curious gazes, Fang Zheng blinked rapidly before shaking his head as he smiled softly, "theres no way, my brother only got a C rank and he's been a genius since birth."
The words "A rank" buzzed in Fang Zheng's skull like trapped cicadas and he wished he could bash his head in to get rid of the noise or destroy his own ear drums. The elders' congratulations felt like knives twisting in his gut, Fang Yuan stood there with a neutral expression—that same cold and distant look—
It pissed him off so much—that look. That same detached, indifferent gaze Fang Yuan leveled at everything, as if nothing could ever touch him. Fang Zheng's fingers twitched at his sides, his nails biting crescents into his palms. The elders were still clapping, their smiles wide and insincere, their eyes already calculating how to use this new development.
The applause died like embers in wet sand. Fang Zheng's smile remained fixed, brittle as thin ice over a rushing river. His gaze flickered to Fang Yuan again—always, always back to him—but his brother had already turned away, threading through the crowd without a backward glance. The indifference was worse than hatred. At least hatred would mean Fang Yuan still cared enough to feel something.
Fuck congratulations. Fuck A-rank. Fuck the elders and their scheming smiles.
Fang Zheng's feet moved before his mind caught up—a half-stumble toward the retreating back of his brother. The elders' voices blurred into white noise behind him, their grasping hands missing his sleeve by inches. He didn't care about their rules, their rankings, their fucking politics. There was only the space between himself and Fang Yuan, narrowing with each step, yet somehow infinite.
"Brother! Wait!"
The crowd parted like startled fish as Fang Zheng barreled through, his breath ragged in his own ears. Fang Yuan didn't turn, didn't slow—his shoulders remained a straight, unyielding line under his robes. The distance between them was a live wire, humming with everything unsaid.
"Brother!" Fang Zheng's voice cracked like dry timber, raw enough that his own throat burned with the force of it. The crowd's murmurs thickened around him, sticky as syrup, but Fang Yuan's footsteps didn't falter. Not until Fang Zheng's fingers closed around his wrist—cold, unyielding bone beneath silk.
Fang Yuan turned. Slowly. The movement precise as a blade being sheathed. His expression was—nothing. Not annoyance, not curiosity. Just the smooth, polished mask of absolute blankness.
Tears welled in Fang Zheng's[1] eyes as Fang Yuan stared through him, his gaze as distant as a passing cloud. The wrist beneath his fingers didn't tense, didn't pull away—it simply existed, lifeless as driftwood.
Fang Yuan's wrist was colder than river stones in winter. Fang Zheng could feel his own pulse hammering against that unresponsive skin[2]—wild, uneven throbs that seemed absurdly loud in the sudden silence between them. The elders had stopped shouting. The crowd had stopped murmuring. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Had Fang Yuan cared about how he looked to the people around them, he definitely would have put on a mask of concern, a false show of brotherly affection—but Fang Yuan never cared, as if Fang Zheng were only a pesky bug that had landed on his shoulder.[3]
Fang Zheng's grip tightened, nails pressing crescents into that unfeeling skin. "Brother," he repeated, softer now, the word fraying at the edges like worn cloth, tears rolling down his cheeks as if he were truly effected by something.[4]
"Brother please say something."
Fang Yuan blinked—once, twice—as if he had just began processing the wet streaks on his brother's face, "Congratulation Fang Zheng, on your A-rank." The words slid out smooth and hollow, like coins dropped into a bottomless well as Fang Yuan pulled away again.
The crowd's silence thickened, pressing against Fang Zheng's ribs like a physical weight, a blade slipping between his ribs—slow, deliberate, painless until the moment it wasn't painless anymore. Tears dried quickly on Fang Zheng's cheeks, leaving behind salt trails that itched under the scrutiny of a hundred watching eyes. His fingers twitched at his sides, still remembering the chill of Fang Yuan's wrist.
People came to comfort him, now taking every chance they could get to shame Fang Yuan when just moments before the ceremony he himself had been the target of their scrutiny. Fang Zheng let their words wash over him—empty reassurances, saccharine praises—while his gaze remained locked on the path his brother had taken. The elders' hands on his shoulders felt like shackles. Their kindness was a transaction, and he was suddenly exhausted by the weight of it all.
"Your brother just has a different way of expressing his love," someone murmured
"He didn't want to get in the way of your moment,"
"Your brother cares about you,"
Fang Zheng's laughter burst out sharp and sudden—a sound like shattered glass that made the comforting hands on his shoulders flinch away. "My brother hates me!"
The crowd recoiled from Fang Zheng's outburst like he'd spat fire. Their pitying glances turned wary, their murmured platitudes dissolving into awkward coughs. Someone patted his back—too hard, as if trying to knock the hysteria out of him—but he barely registered it. His vision tunneled on the empty space where Fang Yuan had stood, the ghost of his brother's wrist still imprinted on his fingertips.
Then, like a puppet with its strings cut, Fang Zheng slumped. The elders caught him before his knees hit the ground, their hands suddenly gentle again, their voices honeyed with concern the noise bursting up again filling silence with their meaningless words. His breath came in ragged gasps, but the tears were gone. He felt hollowed out, scraped clean—like the cicadas in his skull had eaten through everything and left only brittle husk behind.[5]
The elders' hands were warm where Fang Yuan's had been cold. Too warm—suffocating, like embers pressed too close to bare skin. Fang Zheng let them guide him upright, their fingers lingering a beat too long, their whispers laced with calculations they thought he couldn't hear. "Such potential," one murmured, and another, quieter: "We'll need to reassess the family resources." He wanted to peel his skin off.
"Well the Fang Bloodline orginated from The Chi bloodline! So well adopt this this Gu Yue Fang Zheng!" A Chi? Family elder shouted
"How is this possible? You old Bag Chi Lian! Your ability to mislead young boys is definitely impressive! Its clearly better to pass This kid to us in the Mo Clan!"
The shouting match between clan elders dissolved into white noise as Fang Zheng stared at his own trembling hands. They were screaming over him like he was a dog for sell—or well A prize pig at auction. His fingernails dug into his palms again, the sting keeping him anchored to the moment.
"Stop arguing. No one is more qualified to raise this child than the current clan leader. Whoever has any objections can go against me themselves! Gu Yue Bo!"
[1] Peak manipulative, Fang Zheng’s last remaining strat is to cry because Fang Yuan softens slightly at the sight of tears and Fang Zheng in his own way is trying to manipulate a reaction from Fang Yuan
[2] Fang Yuan in essence in this 3rd rewind is already dead from heavens will, only moving because Fang Yuan transported back into it, the dead Fang Yuan body acting like a vessel.
[3] Fang Yuan DOESNT CARE at all for Fang Zheng, 1 life is where he lived to 500 and was stupid at first and still had humanity in the beginning, 2nd life he was evil x10, a 3rd rewind is where this story takes place, Fang Yuan’s evil is x100, Fang Zheng following that pattern + blood severance, his darkness x3 which seems little but is enough to make Fang Zheng extremely toxic
[4] Fang Zheng admitting he doesn’t truly feel sad, (Fang Zheng too is confused about his feelings)
[5] This is side effect of Fang Yuan’s rewinding and also, ahahahaha cicada mention