Chapter 64

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The mask felt weird on his face. Xie Lian had changed it, replacing the full one he wore before with a half-mask that only covered his eyes and the bridge of his nose, and it was still a bizarre feeling.

It was awful before, because Xie Lian kept being reminded of the days he wore the laughing crying mask over his face, but now it was just... the former god couldn't pinpoint with words what he was trying to describe. He felt free from an encumbering weight, but at the same time he felt too exposed, as if someone might recognize him and his misdeeds by the shape of his mouth and chin alone.

Sometimes he ever grew afraid to speak, thinking the memory of his voice could still exist in someone's mind, despite how impossible that was.

But he didn't dwell on those thoughts for long, he never did. Xie Lian had a purpose in Yong'An, and it was to guide and teach the son of the royal family. There was no time to focus on the looming shadows haunting him in his mind.

Lang QianQiu was still young, and his mind was easily influenceable. Xie Lian, while wanting to be a good teacher for him, also wished for Lang QianQiu to learn not to hate XianLe and its people. In fact, he wanted him to see the remaining population of his kingdom in a good light, without the negativity that seeped through when anyone else talked about those who fled during or after the war. His family wasn't bad, when it came to XianLe, in fact, the king wanted to maintain and spread peace between Yong'An and the last living memories of XianLe; however, Xie Lian still wanted to be sure their son would never go against innocent people thanks to hearsay.

Was it a morally good decision? Probably not, since Xie Lian was following it with deceiving ways.

Not that it mattered. Deceiving actions to bring peace were still better than deceiving actions to bring war. Xie Lian knew it better than anyone.

Just then, to his ears came the sound of small feet walking on the wooden planks of the bridge to the pavilion, and a thrilled greeting tickled them. Raising his head, Xie Lian found the small figure of Lang QianQiu and smiled weakly, just the corners of his lips barely curving upwards; the kid was always eager to have his daily lessons, even if he tended to get distracted a lot during many of them.

Lang QianQiu, the former god realized very soon, was not really someone made to sit through long, drawn-out calligraphy, history, or mathematics lessons. As a prince he was also required to learn much more than that, many arts that were essential for him to become a perfect gentleman, but it was clear as day that Lang QianQiu would grow up to be a man of sword and battle rather than a gentle prince with a love for music and philosophy.

When Xie Lian tried to teach him how to play the qin, the only instrument he bothered to actually learn before dedicating himself fully to his cultivation path, Lang QianQiu somehow managed to snap three of the strings in one go. After that, the fallen prince asked the king if he could find someone more suitable that could teach Lang QianQiu a different instrument, and never tried again himself.

At least for the sake of his sanity and his eardrums.

But when Xie Lian would announce it was time for archery lessons, or to learn sword forms, Lang QianQiu was more eager than a hungry kitten presented with milk.

Despite his young age, he always stayed focused and progressed consistently, quick in fixing his mistakes and in bettering himself before the next lesson. Of course, Xie Lian was slow in teaching him how to fight, because he couldn't risk the only son of the royal family to become injured, but he was extremely proficient and talented. Maybe a bit too impulsive, if anything.

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