Narrator:

Feng Xin slouched in the chair, his usual impatient scowl firmly in place. “Remind me again why I’m letting you do this?” he asked, his voice laced with exasperation.

Mu Qing stood behind him, fingers deftly sorting through Feng Xin’s thick hair. His lips quirked into a barely noticeable smirk. “Because you have no sense of style and I’m tired of looking at that boring bun every single day. Honestly, don’t you get bored of yourself?”

Feng Xin shot him a glare through the mirror. “It’s practical. Unlike this nonsense.”

“Practical doesn’t have to mean dull" Mu Qing countered. He separated a section of hair and began braiding it with precision. “Besides, your hair is surprisingly soft. It’s wasted on your lack of imagination.”

“Soft?” Feng Xin snorted, his cheeks reddening slightly. “You’re making it sound like I pamper it or something.”

“You should" Mu Qing said matter-of-factly. “With how much you sweat in training, I’m surprised you even have hair left.”

“Hey! I wash it!” Feng Xin protested, indignant.

“With water, I assume.” Mu Qing replied dryly, his fingers never stopping.

Feng Xin opened his mouth to retort but snapped it shut, instead mumbling, “What else would I use?”

Mu Qing sighed theatrically. “Never mind. Clearly, you’re beyond help.”

They lapsed into a brief silence, the only sound being the soft rustle of hair as Mu Qing continued his work. Feng Xin fidgeted, unused to sitting still for so long. “How long is this going to take? I have things to do, you know.”

“Like what?” Mu Qing teased. “Throwing arrows at trees?”

“It’s called target practice" Feng Xin grumbled. “Unlike you, I don’t spend my time obsessing over appearances.”

“Oh, excuse me for having standards..” Mu Qing retorted. He leaned closer, his breath brushing against Feng Xin’s ear as he adjusted the braid. “Maybe you’d learn something if you did.”

Feng Xin’s shoulders stiffened at the proximity. “Do you have to hover like that? It’s weird.”

“Stop moving.” Mu Qing scolded, ignoring the comment. “You’re going to ruin it.”

Feng Xin grumbled under his breath but obediently sat still. After a few more minutes, Mu Qing finally stepped back, admiring his handiwork. “Done.”

Feng Xin turned his head, trying to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. “What did you even-” His words faltered as he took in the intricate braid, elegant yet not overly fussy. It framed his face in a way that made him look... different.

“Well?” Mu Qing asked, his tone neutral but his eyes sharp. “What do you think?”

“It’s... not bad-” Feng Xin admitted grudgingly. “But it’s too fancy. What’s the point of looking like this if I’m just going to mess it up in training?”

Mu Qing crossed his arms. “The point is that you can look decent when you try. Maybe you should wear it like this more often.”

Feng Xin glanced at him, catching the faintest hint of pride in Mu Qing’s expression. “You know, you’re a lot more smug about this than you should be.”

“And you’re a lot more handsome than you give yourself credit for” Mu Qing said without thinking, his cheeks flushing immediately afterward.

Feng Xin blinked, the unexpected compliment catching him off guard. “What did you just?-”

“Forget it!” Mu Qing cut him off quickly, turning his back to hide his embarrassment. “If you don’t like it, go back to your ugly bun. See if I care.”

Feng Xin smirked, leaning back in the chair. “No, no. I think I’ll keep it... for now. Just don’t get used to me letting you mess with my hair.”

Mu Qing shot him a glare over his shoulder. “As if I want to spend more time on you than necessary.”

But even as they bickered, Feng Xin couldn’t help but glance at the braid in the mirror, his lips twitching into a faint smile. Maybe Mu Qing had a point..just this once.