DFS hanahannki au ? 👀👀
I've answered another ask about this AU, explaining the basics about it. So for you, anon, an excerpt I've dusted off:
Ironically, it was Li Xiangyi who understood him best. The golden boy to Di Feisheng’s shadows, who cut right through all the obstacles to broker a ceasefire with him. Di Feisheng might not have heard him out at all, but for the beautiful opening and deflecting moves he’d used when he confronted him. That made him pause, and told him that Li Xiangyi spoke his language: bodies and blades, not slippery words.
If Li Xiangyi truly is dead…
Another twinge in his chest. Di Feisheng shifts in his seat, leaning his weight against the armrest, and coughs a couple times.
Wuyan is watching him expectantly. When Di Feisheng doesn’t give him his next instructions, he asks, “Should I continue searching for Shi Hun?”
Di Feisheng opens his mouth to tell him no, and to focus on finding Li Xiangyi instead — dead or alive — but this time, a volley of coughing overtakes him. The pain is a shock, hitting him like the surface of the sea when he fell. It hurts worse where Shaoshi and Wenjing had struck. Di Feisheng finds himself hunching slightly over the armrest, curling into himself.
“My lord?” Wuyan says in alarm. He takes a few steps closer, but stops at the base of the steps.
Something loose is moving up Di Feisheng’s throat; he can feel it. A few more coughs, and he’s spitting it out into his hands.
He stares.
Phlegm might have made sense, or a clot of congested blood. Instead, Di Feisheng uses his fingers to unfurl what appears to be a small orchid bloom. The petals are white at the outer edges, reddening towards the centre, and damp from his saliva.
“My lord, may I?” he hears Wuyan say. Without looking away from the orchid, Di Feisheng waves him forward, giving him permission to ascend the steps and approach him.
He hears the sharp intake of breath when Wuyan gets a clear look at the flower resting on his palm.
Di Feisheng’s wounds are still throbbing. He leans back, hoping to ease the strain on the damaged muscles. Some instinct makes him hold his palm out flat, avoiding crushing the orchid.
“Have I been cursed?” he wonders aloud, gazing at it. “Poisoned?”
That also doesn’t strike him as something Li Xiangyi would do. It’s too underhanded. Not to mention, too slow. Flowers would hardly kill him faster than a sword.