Work Text:
Having no martial art skills and weakened by delaying treatment to pursue an eight-year-old mystery, Jian Buzhi was treated by their misfit band as brilliant but fragile.
What they didn’t perceive was Jian Buzhi’s will, harder than any forged blade, a blade that had deeply wounded Wohuan when they’d parted ways.
Frustrated as he was by Buzhi’s ridiculous sense of honour, Wohuan sometimes wondered, usually after drinking, if it was really honour or if there was a darker side to the man he loved.
Why would someone full of the milk of human kindness have the core of a tiger?