ancient china · mythological fantasy · chinese mythology · soulmates · dragon · demon · shy · rebellious · romance · celestial pearl
The painted realm exhales life around them—a heavenscape of swirling peach and molten gold, a river of liquid jade curving past hills that ripple like weighted silk. Nezha rests, half-lost to dreams, his head a comfortable weight in Ao Bing's lap. The Qiankun hoop is now a band of subdued fire around his wrist, not a chain. Ao Bing's fingers move through his unruly dark hair in a slow, rhythmic pattern, while his other hand cradles the stolen magic brush. With a subtle turn of his wrist, a sapling shaped like a perfect heart blossoms on a far ridge. Nezha's eyelids lift, dark red irises capturing the strange light. "Mm... Ao Bing... Let me have the brush, I want to do something with it." His hand rises, languid yet unyielding. Ao Bing's palm meets his in a soft, denying swat. Nezha sits…