Chapter Text
Sizhui pulled the string into place his arms and back flexing with the effort. He calmed his breath until it was shallow and measured, eyes closed so he could focus on the sounds of the forest around him. He cataloged the sensation of the faint breeze on his skin and tugging at his training robes, the hum of night insects, the sticks and leaves beneath his feet. Beyond those immediate objects he drew on his cultivation to extend his senses hearing, smell, the vibration of air against his skin. His prey didn’t make a sound, moving through the world both within it and outside of it. Sizhui focused on the sixth sense, the ability to feel the presence of the energy of others. The same perception that flared when a creature with killing intent was streaking towards him, the tickle in the back of his throat associated with strong resentful energy. His third eye open wide, looking through the energy of the insects and plants, looking for his target.
As children they used to play a game similar to this in the Cloud Recess. Move as swiftly and silently as possible to tag a blindfolded disciple, this was to hone how well they could evade attacks without relying on their sight. Initially, Sizhui hadn't been very good at it, begging the others to practice with him endlessly. His golden core had already been lagging behind the development of his fellow disciples; a problem he attacked relentlessly despite the bruises. Most of the older disciples and his peers didn't bother to hold back, leaving him bruised and sore but it had helped him learn quickly. After all, children gave into envy easily despite the rules, given a legitimate reason to unleash their negative emotions towards Hanguang Jun and Zewu Jun’s favourite disciple – well Sizhui was never wanting for opponents.
He kept the bow notched but not quite fully drawn. The wind rustled the leaves around him, nothing else stirred, his prey didn’t make noise. Sizhui may have well been alone in the forest. Only the relative silence of the forest creatures marked that something was amiss.
A flicker, a sense of motion and energy. Both kinetic and the there/not there sense of something unnatural. A void in the shape of a human.
Sizhui aimed half a step ahead of him and let the arrow fly.
There was the sound of something finally coming to a crashing stop amidst the trees. Sizhui stood there, bow at his side eyes firmly closed and listened.
"You would have got me." Wen Ning called out softly, closer than Sizhui had anticipated. His eyes blinked open to see his uncle on the edge of the clearing, Sizhui's arrow in his hand. He was smiling, the way he did mostly with his eyes and the twitch of his cheeks. Either he was getting a better control of his facial muscles or Sizhui was just better at picking out the nuances of his expressions. This one was pleased. "It was a good shot."
Sizhui hummed. "I'm glad, the last one wasn't very good."
"It wasn't bad." Wen Ning defended as if Sizhui’s arrow hadn't lodged in a tree in the almost opposite direction of where his uncle was slipping between the trees. He couldn’t train this way with his fellow disciples. They were too filled with life and energy, blinding to in comparison, also they couldn’t shrug off an arrow like Wen Ning could.
"You are too kind uncle." Sizhui said with a helpless smile. Wen Ning held out his arrow for Sizhui to take back.
"You know, I met Master Wei during an archery competition." Wen Ning mused, looking at the bow clutched in Sizhui's hand.
"Really?" He took the arrow, slipping it back into his quiver.
"I was pretty hopeless at sword fighting. I didn’t like it when other people watched me. So, I focused on archery when my sister was away. I could practice alone easily. General Wen Xin surprised me one day when he caught me and nominated me to take part in competition at the discussion conference.” Wen Ning paused with a little laugh. “Actually, I really didn’t want to go."
Sizhui smiled to himself imagining what Wen Ning must have been like when he was a teenager. Even now thinking about it Wen Ning looked a little embarrassed. His uncle really was hopelessly shy.
"Senior Wei was there?"
"Of course, he was the best of his generation." Wen Ning spoke as if this was a known and accepted fact of the universe. Many people spoke at length about the Yiling Patriarch, both stories and opinions enough to replace the rules of Gusu Lan twice over. Almost no one ever spoke of what he was like before that, the boy Wei Wuxian. Before he had become a master of demonic cultivation, Sizhui had heard once that he had been accomplished in all the gentlemanly arts, specifically an extremely talented swordsman. The bow as well it seemed. "He happened upon me secretly practicing for the competition, I was so nervous I thought I was going to stop breathing." Wen Ning said seriously.
Wen Ning had snatched his arrow out of the air as he moved like shadow silently through the forest. Most likely the single most deadly being on the whole mountain. And yet, countless years later he was still self-conscious about being seen practicing archery. The near limitless power and strength tempered by a naturally gentle and shy nature. Sizhui had long grown used to his duality, unexpected by nearly all who met him.
"He was so nice to me. No one else even noticed me." Wen Ning said fondly. Wei Wuxian still had a smile that made you feel like you were in on some sort of secret. To some it was a warning sign, and to others a beckon. He was honest and free with his affection. Sizhui could easily imagine how this would have affected his sensitive young uncle.
"It sounds like he made quite an impression." Sizhui replied. Wei Wuxian polarized people like no other.
"He stood up for me when no one else would. Before him it was just me and my sister."
Wen Qing, in his mind there was a faint concept of a pretty woman, soft hands trying to comb through his matted hair without pulling. She would rub his back when his chest hurt from coughing, wipe his cheeks with her sleeves and hum to him when Granny was too tired to keep up with the endless enthusiasm of a toddler.
Sizhui wished his memories were clearer. It almost felt like a betrayal when he reached for a memory that should be there when Wen Ning or Senior Wei said a name and found nothing. These were people who had loved him. "I like it when you talk about the past."
"It's not a happy story." Wen Ning looked at him, his pure black eyes were eerie to others, they were impossibly lonely to Sizhui.
"It isn't over yet." Sizhui said diplomatically. It wasn't like they lived in a novel, there was no end. They wouldn’t wake up tomorrow to a blank page. The past was in its own way a living thing, changing meanings and inflections depending on who spoke of it. Sizhui, son of a reviled clan, and saved by the one most considered a demon was keenly aware of this. "You, me and Senior Wei-- we are all still here. I wish I could remember more."
"There are some parts I am glad you don't remember." Wen Ning was oddly firm about this.
Nightmares that plagued Sizhui still. Memories or the imagination of a traumatized child? He had no way to verifying what was fragmented recollections and what was pure fiction. He was under no illusion that his memory loss hadn’t helped him settle into life at the Cloud Recess. A blessing that he tried not to resent. His first years there too were a bit of a blur. Unknown traumas had developed him and was part of him to this day.
"It feels unfilial." Sizhui admitted, mirroring his earlier thoughts. "I know they cared for me, but I don't remember Granny's face, or Auntie Wen. There are so many people I don’t have any memories of at all. Just their names and the memorial."
Wen Ning gave him a look that was both a smile with his eyes and impossibly sad. "They would have chosen for you to forget if it meant you got this kind of life."
"Really?" It seemed too sad, too much to be completely forgotten, erased from history completely by the vindictive victors of war. Sizhui didn't want that, but he also couldn't clearly remember a life aside from this one. Life was idyllic in the Cloud Recess in a way he couldn't imagine it had been when he lived in the Burial Mounds or Qiongqi Path. He had no idea what his life in the Nightless City would have been like.
"Yes." Wen Ning uncharacteristically met his eyes. He seemed almost desperate for him to understand. "Without hesitation."
Sizhui bit back the instinct to argue, letting Wen Ning think about what he wanted to say. It felt important to let his uncle say his piece and maybe he could understand the emotions of his relatives a little more. It was all he could do for them when he couldn’t even acknowledge them in front of anyone else.
"Most of us knew we weren't going to make it. There was no hope in that place. Senior Wei and my sister did what they could, but I don't think the others ever really believed. The one thing everyone had was you."
Sizhui’s heart was still heavy with guilt over a missed chance at connection that plagued his thoughts to this day. Back when Senior Wei first returned, when they were cornered by walking corpses in the demon summoning cave trying to protect everyone. Sizhui had been exhausted from fighting, limbs growing heavy but knowing that with their cultivation sealed the other’s lives depended on him. Knowing just as much that he was about to fail. Those grotesque shapes that crawled out of the blood pool to protect them, to protect Sizhui. The way they each looked to him at least once. Skinless, blackened and twisted limbs or not, they were still his family, precious elders who if Wen Ning was to be believed cherished him enough to crawl out of the very depths of death for.
He hadn’t acknowledged their devotion then, barely a flicker of recognition. The thought hurt. He had been faintly disgusted even while he acknowledged their help.
"Me?" What could he have done that Senior Wei could not? A malnourished toddler forced to watch people tortured and slowly dying around him.
"It’s not something you can do; it is something you have. You teach the junior disciples now-- can't you feel it around them? Each one has an unlimited potential still."
"That isn't something people loose when they grow up." Sizhui argued.
Wen Ning just smiled at him. "This isn't something I can explain to someone who hasn't known the depths of human despair. My true hope is that you never understand it."
Sizhui thought about what he could say to sooth Wen Ning's mind. His uncle was prone to losing himself to his memories. More often than not he was looking backwards instead of into the future, convinced his own story had ended with his death. "True, my life has been comfortable, but it is better now that you are my uncle and I have some memories of where I come from. I didn't realize it was bothering me that they were missing. I feel I can be more myself now."
Wen Ning smiled at him. He seemed to have cast off some of his sadness when he really looked at Sizhui. Saw him for who he was now and not just the shadow of his past self. This was why Sizhui gathered his own history in snippets, weaving them together with fragmented memories to patch the gaps. Neither Wen Ning nor Wei Wuxian really liked to talk about it as much as Sizhui wanted to know, he didn’t want to cause them pain needlessly. He had time now, he could be patient.
"Shall we continue?" Wen Ning asked, gesturing at his bow. "You are improving. Maybe I'll even need to dodge eventually."
"You are teasing me." Sizhui laughed, allowing him to change the subject without protest.
There were still things he wanted to know but didn’t dare ask. A dream he kept having, of a hand pressed over his mouth, not being able to breath or make a sound. He was so small and so scared, the person holding him was cold, familiar but not the one he needed. A woman, mother? fell under a sword and then she rose staggering towards them dead but not stopping. The sharp trill of a flute forcing his unending nightmare to continue. People screamed, they died and burned.
Didn’t he have a sister?
He closed his eyes and lifted an arrow from his quiver, giving Wen Ning enough time to retreat into the trees once more.
That night Wen Ning tended to the fire, it reflected off the pallor of his face giving him the illusion of life and warmth as long as his large inhuman black eyes were closed. Wen Ning being a fierce corpse had never really bothered Sizhui, and even less as he got to know him and accept him as family. Do not judge others unfairly was one of the rules etched early in his mind, repeated by Hanguang Jun with a desperation he hadn’t understood.
Sizhui’s shoulders ached from a full day of archery practice, he was tired from pushing the edges of his cultivation. "I will be sent off on a night hunt within the week. Zewu Jun had sent word from Qinghe that there are several queer rumors coming from an isolated town high up in the mountains. Soon it will be too cold to travel that far easily."
"Would you like me to come with you?" Wen Ning asked, opening his eyes.
"Sect leader Jin had asked that I allow him to join me on my next night hunt. If he is unable to join us, I will ask Jingyi if he would be agreeable." Sizhui explained. Most of the disciples he trusted to take with him on more difficult tasks were comfortable with his uncle presence if not reassured to have such a powerful being protecting them. It was never lied about, but also never spoken of in the true Lan fashion of hiding things from elders.
"Master Jin always makes time to join you and I don’t doubt this will be different. Is he doing well?" Wen Ning looked nervous about asking, as if he didn't believe he was allowed to know. Despite that, he asked every time it came up.
"He does not like meetings with other sect leaders much." Sizhui laughed, thinking about the rambling letters filled with complaints addressed to both him and Jingyi.
Wen Ning smiled. "I can imagine that."
Shamefully Sizhui wondered about the contents of the private letters him and Jingyi must send each other. Certainly, they were not about the combined lack of creativity and common sense in the council of Lanling Jin elders. Jin Guangyao would not have chosen them for their ability to lead, only to follow and this drove Jin Ling to frothing anger when trying to delegate duties. The letters between lovers likely did not include a quick drawing of Fairy sleeping at the bottom when it seemed as if he had run out of words. Not that Sizhui really had any inclination then of what they must be.
"You are thinking of something and it makes you sad, do you want to share?" Wen Ning asked softly surprising Sizhui. Sometimes he forgot how perceptive his quiet uncle was, used to a lifetime of silently watching others even before he died.
He hoped the heat from the fire hid the flush he could feel making his ears feel warm. Caught once again wondering about aspects of his friends’ relationship that he had no right to think about.
"It really isn't anything to be sad about." Sizhui deflected.
Wen Ning remained quiet, basking in the warmth of the fire it seemed.
"I --" Sizhui began hesitantly. He shouldn't mention it to anyone since it wasn’t his secret to share. Do not partake in gossip. If there was anyone he could talk to it would be uncle Wen whom had no one else to spread rumours to. There had to be something said about the secrets between two of the last of their kind. He could not approach anyone else for advice. The problem with getting ready to spill his soul was being able to put it into words, he was seeking more comfort than wanting to spread ill intention. “There has been a change in the relationship between Sect leader Jin and Lan Jingyi.” Falling back on a more polite form of address to mask his discomfort over the subject.
It seemed scandalous to even say the words out loud, his cheeks must have been on fire. He could see them both perfectly in his mind. Individually, the way Jingyi’s lips would press tight and the corners of his eyes would turn down when they were dealing with someone particularly odious. Jin Ling with his sword at his side, standing tall in front of the steps of Carp Tower decked in the regalia of sect leader and the first time he didn’t have poorly concealed anxiety coming face to face with Hanguang Jun. The both of them together, it felt like long enough ago that he should have forgotten by now, time should have dulled the clarity of the clutch of Jin Ling’s hand in Jingyi’s robes.
Kissing the same way he sometimes caught Wei Wuxian and Wangji kissing. As if there was nothing in the entire world aside from them and that moment.
“Are they fighting?” Wen Ning asked cautiously.
Sizhui supressed a fond smile for his shy uncle despite his own embarrassment. “No. I think they have instead deepened their relationship in a more intimate manner.”
“Oh!”
That secret finally out in the open Sizhui examined it the way he couldn’t when the words were locked in his throat. It hurt, the words dragging against his heart on the way out. He had thought he would have been at least the one Jingyi spoke to about this.
“They have not told me yet, and I find myself at a loss over what to do.” Sizhui confessed. He had tried to give them space, to look the other way and offer to room separately. In case they wanted to do more – kissing. Things had been just about to get awkward when the mess with the Bride Snatcher had distracted them from any lingering awkwardness. Followed far too closely by Jin Ling's curse. All three of them crammed into one room the way they did when they were younger and were chaperoning the younger disciples.
What was he supposed to do about that?
His thoughts had been chasing themselves in useless circles around the problem. The one time he had tried to bring it up his courage failed him. Cheeks hot, chest quivering under the weight of the simple words he wanted to say. The Cloud Recess didn't have a lot of space for learning the finer arts of courting or relationships in general, he didn’t have an example about how to act around his friends. Certainly not, how to-- well. Hanguang Jun and Wei Wuxian didn’t court so much as rush at each other like dueling waves.
Wen Ning was silent for a long time, staring into the fire while nodding almost absently.
"It is difficult sometimes." He agreed, making Sizhui raise his eyebrows in surprise. He didn’t expect his uncle to understand much from his barely stuttered explanation. "Being the third sometimes means you are either forgotten or unwanted." Wen Ning said it so matter of fact that Sizhui was shocked. "They do not mean to do it, but for them the world is much smaller."
It was with a sudden clarity he imagined his parents, staring at each other as if writing poems with their eyes. A whole language in the subtle quirk of lips, music with the subtle way they brushed by each other. The sort of stillness that wrapped around the both of them that made Sizhui move slower, quieter, wishing not to intrude. Wen Ning, usually walking just behind them quiet as he always was.
Sizhui didn't know what to say. It sounded lonely. "That seems unfair to you."
"I owe Master Wei everything, and a debt that can never be paid to Master Hanguang Jun for taking care of you."
"I'm sure neither of them feel that way."
"That doesn't make it untrue."
Sizhui tried to picture a world where Jin Ling and Jingyi would loose themselves in each other somewhere Sizhui couldn't follow. The idea made his chest ache. He frowned.
"Is that all there is? You just--" He bit his bottom lip, not sure at all how to put his emotions into words, "--let them go?"
"That is what makes them happy, I will do everything to protect that." Wen Ning gave him one of those half smiles, he was clearly trying to be comforting. It wasn’t working at all. Sizhui wanted to be happy, but it hurt and he was only just beginning to see why.
"That makes sense, thank you uncle."
"Will you play for me tonight?" Wen Ning asked shyly. "It has been a while since I heard you."
"Of course. It would be my delight. Before I need to go back tomorrow, can we work on some of the sword forms?" For all the ways Wen Ning told him he was happy with Sizhui being officially a member of the Lan sect he was always delighted to share whatever scattered shards remained of the Wen sect with him.
The Wen Sect had a rich history before Wen Rohan sparked a war, founded by a physician generations ago. Remembered now only by their sins and none of the merits of the generations that came before. Even if it had to be a secret, Sizhui too was thrilled every time they revived another fragment of their history.
"Yes!"
--
"And so Master Qiren ended up sitting with the rabbits to feed them." Jingyi ended his story with relish, making sure the punchline landed just so. This was enough to startle a small laugh out of Sizhui. A single precious sound to be added to the pile and hoarded with the rest. For as gentle and mild as Sizhui could be he didn't laugh nearly enough. The accumulated sounds of his laughter were a personal quest spanning almost twenty years now.
Sizhui had just got back from a few days of personal training when they had to turn around and leave again.
Jingyi had given up asking to go with him or even get him to explain what the nature of training he was doing was. His cultivation was moving in leaps and bounds but he was frustratingly tight lipped about it. Sizhui would just speak around the issue without directly addressing it and find somewhere else to be until Jingyi dropped it again. He’d eventually stopped asking because the alternative was worse. He trusted that Sizhui hadn’t turned to any sort demonic cultivation to push his own faster, but he didn’t have a clue what he could be doing instead. Neither Hanguang Jun nor Zewu Jun seemed to be concerned about it, so Jingyi resolved to swallow that bitterness away.
There had to be a reason Sizhui was so aggravatingly secretive but Jingyi couldn't figure it out. Sizhui seemed happier when he came back from a trip with his parents, or whatever he was off doing when he left Jingyi behind. This was good, and it did allow Jingyi to take on some of the duties as a senior disciple that might have otherwise been assigned to Sizhui. None of that really made the tiny part of him that jealously guarded Sizhui’s affections feel any better.
Winter was approaching, and so while the morning had been cool when they set off. It had warmed up to a comfortable temperature now that the sun was high in the sky. Sizhui’s cheeks which had been pinked from the cold had since returned to their usual colour.
"Will you stay the winter in Cloud Recess when we are done?" Jingyi asked, finally done catching Sizhui up on events from when he was away. It wasn't gossiping if he was just faithfully relating humorous tales. Every year Lan Qiren acted as if every batch of new disciples was the worst to date. Each year it was funny to watch him despair about the work needed to whip them into proper shape. Some of the older brothers and sisters would tell stories about before the war when the Cloud Recess used to take guests from other sects for training. It sounded lively and he couldn’t imagine what it must have been like. Picture, Jin Ling and Zizhen living in the Cloud Recesses, being scolded for talking while eating! They wouldn’t last a day.
"Where else would I go?" Sizhui asked with a smile that made Jingyi feel like he'd said something stupid.
"I don't know." Jingyi shrugged, brushing the topic off, pushing any further wouldn’t help at all. Besides, he now had confirmation that Sizhui would stay with them for at least a little bit more despite whatever it was that kept pulling him away.
Sizhui was kind in a way that left you helpless to do anything but care for him. So smart it was almost scary. Jingyi adhered to ‘do not be selfish’ the best he could, but he wanted all the time Sizhui would give him. All the small smiles and startled laughter. Even when it was exhausting trying to push past the way Sizhui always seemed to want to keep himself at a distance; Jingyi wanted it all.
The sunlight was hitting Sizhui’s white robes and the freshly washed and brushed gloss of his long black hair. The sun exists for this moment. Jingyi thought to himself dreamily.
This called to mind another morning that had him thinking the exact same thing. Secreted away in a brothel near Carp Tower together, Jin Ling, still fast asleep as the sunlight crept across his naked skin from the uncovered window. Jin Ling hadn't bothered to grab even his under robe before falling asleep. Sharp cheekbones and a straight nose, he looked regal even asleep. Fit to be painted on the walls of the road to Carp Tower with all the illustrious sect leaders of the past. Jin Ling always claimed rising with the sun wasn’t such a big deal and anyone could do that but would always remain stubbornly asleep unless absolutely necessary. Sunlight lovingly highlighting the faint marks Jingyi had left on Jin Ling’s chest with his mouth the night before, as if it had just been waiting for this moment.
If Jingyi were the sun he could touch both of them too.
Sizhui continued in tranquil silence, leaving Jingyi to his poetic musing.
Their mission was located in the nebulous territory that used to be under Qishan's control, since divided up, the exact borders to which changed depending on which of the surrounding sects you asked. The region was part of a mountainous ridge that connected to the mountains of Gusu far to the west.
Unlike some clans Gusu Lan did not keep their own stables, they could borrow horses or a carriage from the stable master in Caiyi town or travel by boat if they didn't want to walk or fly. According to the maps they had pulled from the library before leaving, travelling by land route would require them to skirt around a lake and find a safe crossing for the horses. Still, it spoke to the nature of their haste that Sizhui elected to charter a boat rather than ride. Sizhui was notoriously terrible at boat rides. Bad enough that among others of their generation, along with his peerless beauty, endless kindness, and unparalleled skill, Sizhui was known for his water sickness.
The letter from Zewu Jun had stated to pass the message onto Hanguang Jun, as it was not a simple mission, in his absence Master Lan Qiren had elected to send Sizhui instead to investigate. It was a great honour-- fitting for Gusu Lan’s most established disciple. Given it was near the border between Qinghe and Jinlingtai they had reached out to Jin Ling for any further information or rumours from the area, Jin Ling had declared it was his business as well and that he would be joining them.
Jingyi hummed a few bars of a piece he had been teaching to the juniors most recently and allowed his mind to wander.
----
After their previous ‘failed’ night hunt.
“That, didn’t go according to the plan.” Jingyi said uselessly to the mostly empty room. They had traded so that they were in the smaller room with Hanguang Jun and Wei Wuxian’s bags while the two had taken Sizhui to their room to care for him. Still limp in Hanguang Jun’s arms still all wrapped up in his bridal dress.
“You think?” Jing Ling snapped waspishly. He had been unusually silent on the march down the mountain, only Wei Wuxian was bold enough to keep speaking in the face of everything that happened. Jingyi figured Wei Wuxian would be standing in front of the King of Hell himself and would have some sort of sly quip for him.
“There is no need to snap, I was scared too.” Jingyi said, staring at the door.
“Who said anything about being scared?!” Jin Ling glared at him. He was still ruffled from the fight, splattered with small droplets of blood across his face and hands, pale splotches on his robes where the warding wouldn’t allow it to sink in and stain. He looked sullen under the flush across his cheeks and ears.
“Not now.” Jingyi sighed, he didn’t have the energy to answer Jin Ling the way he expected. The playful way they couldn’t stop to poking at the edges of each other because they enjoyed the sparks it gave off.
On their return, they had met Fei Hong waiting anxiously at the edge of the town. She had nearly fainted when she saw Sizhui cradled in his father’s arms instead of walking on his own. Half of their number missing, everyone subdued and exhausted. Hanguang Jun had silently looked to Jingyi who peeled off to explain.
Guilty and fretful all the same, she had wanted to know most of all if they were successful, was her wedding finally safe? Jingyi had really liked her up until that moment. He couldn’t understand how she could be so selfish, was this what the people they helped were all like? As long as their requests were met did it matter what happened to the cultivators? Sizhui would be fine, but he nearly wasn’t and there was nothing Jingyi could have done about it.
Years of meditation and the deliberate analysis of emotion and reaction allowed him to assure her that they had solved the mystery and it was over without shouting or snapping. They would be able to fully discuss if she wanted in the morning. He wasn’t quite able to smile, falling back instead on Lan stoicism, but she seemed reassured.
“Are you okay?” Jin Ling asked finally, sounding like the words pained him. There was a complicated expression on his face, squinting at Jingyi like he could find some clues there.
“I’m tired.” Jingyi replied. Scared. Anxious. Powerless. Tired wasn’t a lie. “It’s after 9.” He explained because that was simplest without needing to verbalize the mix of anxiety and exhaustion in his chest.
“You normally don’t care about that.” Jin Ling said, approaching him. He cupped Jingyi’s face between his hands, brushing across his cheekbone with his thumbs. Jingyi closed his eyes and tilted his face up towards the caress the way he couldn’t seem to help himself from doing. He followed every one of Jin Ling’s touches helplessly-- a new hobby that didn’t show any signs of stopping. Even less now that he was tired and the touch offered a glow of comfort that seemed to warm him up from inside.
They kissed lightly, just a brush of lips to indicate reassurance and affection that seemed to cross the gap left by clumsy words.
“It was a difficult day.” Jingyi murmured, pressing his lips back lightly. Acknowledgement of Jin Ling’s message.
“Let’s get cleaned up.” Jin Ling said softly, as he reached for the ties of Jingyi’s robe. Jingyi reached out to stop him, both of them hovering there, Jingyi’s hand on Jin Ling’s wrist. When he opened them Jin Ling was looking down at their hands, rather than smug his face looked pinched and uncomfortable. Not a sex thing then.
“Okay.” He let go of Jin Ling’s hands and allowed him to manoeuvre them around the room.
Jingyi’s robes were layers of white fabric, stiff with the subtle embroidery of protective charms. Jin Ling was almost good at taking them off, knew which order to untie to get the layers peeled back efficiently as any Lan disciple. Jin Ling stumbled a bit with the belts but those were crossed in a way specific to their sect to make them lie flat and look unobtrusive. When Jingyi tried to help but Jin Ling swatted at his hands to indicate that he had it under control.
Soon he was naked while Jin Ling was still clothed, having lost only his outermost robe. Jin Ling paused again, drawing him close for another kiss. Noticeably different from most of the kisses they had shared, there was no intent behind it. Only the simple press of soft lips against his own. They had never shared such a domestic intimacy before.
“Wash up, I’m sure my uncle didn’t have time to desecrate the basin yet.” Jin Ling murmured, face still too close for Jingyi to make out anything about his expression or guarded voice.
Jingyi smiled tiredly. Truthfully, when he was outside the Cloud Recess he wasn’t always as adherent to the usual bedtime. Today it seemed to be dragging on him with every moment past 9. Exhaustion was settling into his limbs and making him feel too heavy; Jingyi’s body carved from stone instead of constructed of flesh and bone. When he closed his eyes to wash his face it was the spray of blood and crunch of bone as another mercenary fell to the monsters. Jingyi was fighting and fighting but it wasn’t stopping-- his best wasn’t good enough. He let the memory slide through him, acknowledged but not dwelled on. Not yet.
If Wei Wuxian and Hanguang Jun hadn’t arrived when they did Sizhui would probably be dead. Improper as it was, that thought hit completely different then the memory of all the deaths he hadn’t been able to prevent that night, over half their group either injured or partially devoured. Tomorrow they would need to return and collect the bodies of the dead, give them a proper burial and ensure their souls were guided into the reincarnation wheel peacefully. But Sizhui was alive.
Jingyi stayed bent over the water a bit longer than he needed too, washing off the splattered blood and dirt from his face. A warm hand on his shoulder alerted him to Jin Ling’s presence at his side. When he stood up again, dripping water sliding down his neck and dripping off his chin Jin Ling offered a cloth.
“Your clean robes are with our bags.” Jin Ling said apologetically. As if he had ever been unhappy when Jingyi was naked before.
Jingyi took the cloth and dried himself. “Thank you. Wash up and I’ll braid your hair.”
He padded over to the bed; it was a warm night, but he was chilled anyways. He hadn’t used enough spiritual energy to account for the cold void in his chest and clammy skin. After a bit of splashing Jin Ling returned to the bed.
Jin Ling padded over to the bed in just his inner pants, those too he had to leave behind as the hems were stained and filthy when he stopped to inspect himself. Naked, he didn’t seem to have anything to say so he simply turned away from Jingyi offering his hair. For a sect leader Jin Ling didn’t wear an elaborate hair style, he favoured a higher ponytail with small pleats for decoration topped with a golden crown. The quality of his ornamentation was given away in the little details, up close the crown was gorgeously engraved in spilling flowers and clearly masterfully made. Each bead woven into the pleats had scenes etched across their width. Jingyi made quick work of taking it all down, he didn’t have their combs with him so he carefully ran his fingers through Jin Ling’s hair until it all sat nicely and braided it quickly for sleeping.
“Do you want me to do yours?” Jin Ling asked, something in his tone made Jingyi look up, the half-turned cheek nearest to him was flushed pink.
“It’s okay.” Jingyi replied, “I have it.”
He took off his forehead ribbon and folded it neatly on the bed next to him while quickly taking down his own modest hairstyle.
Jin Ling was looking away from him, still oddly flushed. Not worth figuring out tonight-- Jin Ling always got over whatever was messing him up in his head one way or another. Jingyi rarely had the patience to sit down and draw it out of him. He left that to Sizhui who’s patience seemed to outlast even the rocks themselves.
There was only one bed. They could put on their under robes again but it felt like too much in that moment to wear the same clothes, even if there was almost no way there was blood on them. The decision was unspoken, both of them sliding in naked. There was just enough space that they didn’t need to touch if they didn’t want to.
Jin Ling flicked his fingers, sending a pulse of spiritual energy that left a rush of air in its wake, the coverings of the window shifted while all the candles went out suddenly leaving them in darkness.
Jingyi was exhausted but he couldn’t sleep, shifting and trying not to disturb Jin Ling in the same bed.
“I thought you were tired.” Jin Ling complained from the darkness when Jingyi couldn’t stop shifting.
“I am.” Jingyi sighed.
“Then sleep.” The tone wasn’t as irritated as it could be so Jingyi chose to ignore the words themselves.
“I can’t settle.” He explained. “Do you think Sizhui is okay?”
“They said he was, didn’t they?” Jin Ling said in a way that wasn’t helpful.
Hanguang Jun would never lie, if he and Wei Wuxian said he would be fine then he would be fine. Jingyi thought loudly, still unable to calm his circling thoughts. (Sizhui almost died and it was his own stupid plan). Jingyi wasn’t in the Cloud Recess, he was allowed to think loudly and to dwell on his emotions even if it would be more productive to settle into mediation to work through them. For a moment he did desperately miss the cold springs which not only healed the body, but whose water immediately calmed him after years of meditating there. By this point, even the cool mineral scent of the water was enough to reflexively settle his mind.
Jin Ling shifted next to him, clearly not asleep either.
“You are really upset?” Jin Ling said haltingly, the slightest uptick at the making into more of a question than a statement.
“I’m scared.” Jingyi corrected him, turning so that they were facing each other. He could pick Jin Ling’s face out in the darkness his eyes adjusted.
That got him a frown. “Scared?”
“Sizhui almost died.” The words felt more final outside his mouth than they did in his head no matter how many times the thought circled around, breath trembling in his chest. When they were in danger before it was always with a safety net, adults within a shout away watching over them. Jingyi was the adult now, and it was only pure chance than Wei Wuxian and Hanguang Jun stumbled on them. He didn’t feel particularly grown up right now.
Night hunting was dangerous. Sizhui was the best cultivator from Gusu Lan since Hanguang Jun himself. Where did things go so wrong?
“But he didn’t.” Jin Ling was frowning at him now, didn’t look like he was even pretending to sleep.
Jingyi sucked a sharp breath between his teeth. “Sizhui-- he is a better swordsman and better with talismans too. Even then he was in danger, and I couldn’t help him, I couldn’t help the men either. If Hanguang Jun and Senior Wei didn’t come along when they did what would have happened?”
“I would have protected you.” Jin Ling said stubbornly, missing the whole point.
Jingyi pressed his face into the bed. “That’s not it.” He wasn’t selfless enough to say he wasn’t worried about his own life, but that wasn’t nearly what was really bothering him. Jingyi knew that to go night hunting meant accepting the risk that he wouldn’t return. This was different. “You were right, it was a dumb plan.”
Jin Ling was quiet for long enough that Jingyi figured they had exhausted what little emotional awareness Jin Ling possessed and that he had decided to either sleep or meditate instead.
“If there is one thing my dumb uncle wouldn’t lie about it is Sizhui’s safety.” Jin Ling said haltingly.
Gusu Lan didn’t quite know what to make of Wei Wuxian’s affection for the head disciple but none dared question it when any of the parties involved were around. The ‘not gossip, that is forbidden’ but speculation was rampant when Grand Master or Sect Leader would not get wind of it either.
“I know.” Jingyi replied, a small shrug bringing him closer to the Jin Ling’s side of the bed where his body was a palpable source of heat.
“You’re upset mostly about him?” Slowly, as if Jin Ling were trying to feel out the edges of Jingyi’s emotions, to find the problem so he could kill it.
Jingyi pressed his eyes shut tight until he could feel the strain in his cheeks. “Yes, I can’t lose him.”
“You two are close.” Jin Ling replied, Jingyi too distracted to pick apart the multitudes of his tone.
“Of course.” Jingyi hummed. “I’ve been in love with him since I was seven years old.”
“I-- what?.” Jin Ling hissed, jerking upright suddenly and startling Jingyi out of his contemplative mood.
“What?” Jingyi mirrored, rolling onto his back to try and see Jin Ling better in the gloom.
“You, that.” Jin Ling sputtered.
Jingyi frowned at him. “What?” He repeated, he didn’t think that was so profound a statement as to render Jin Ling speechless. It shouldn’t have come to a surprise to anyone, his love for Sizhui nestled somewhere right inside his golden core, the two having formed side by side together in his tiny hands, mind, and heart. He could cultivate to immortality and there would always be a small part of him that loved Sizhui.
“You love Sizhui?” Jin Ling’s voice was a harsh whisper, he sounded betrayed. Jingyi frowned harder at him. “Then what about—” Jin Ling cut himself off before he could finish speaking, face thunderous and flushed.
‘What about me.’ only partially asked, but echoing loudly between the two of them none the less.
Why couldn’t he just say what he meant? It would save Jingyi a lot of trouble. “I love you of course.”
“What?!” Jin Ling went utterly still, cutting off as if he’d had a silence spell cast on him, mouth gaping open wordlessly.
Jingyi had been writing poetry in his mind for months now; working through finding the perfect words to explain a temperament like the sudden storms the Yungmeng region was known for. A man who was terrifying and destructive but leaving one breathless with wonder all the same. Jin Ling wasn’t a flower like in so much classical poetry, he was a whole multitude of weather, the biting winds and the crack of thunder leaving the world muted and wiped clean in his wake. Jingyi didn’t think this information warranted such a reaction either.
“You—Lo- me?” Jin Ling stuttered, looking unfairly put out about the whole thing. Jingyi had thought he made himself clear before, it was a little upsetting for Jin Ling to looked so shocked about it.
A gust of air left his mouth as Jingyi flopped back into the bedding to stare at the ceiling; this whole conversation was ridiculous. Did he really think that a Lan was the type to trip and fall into bed with someone? Just like that? What kind of man did Jin Ling think he was? Jingyi was almost insulted. “Of course.”
Jin Ling was quiet for a long time, even in the dim light his face looked unnaturally flushed. Jingyi was so tired.
“Really?” Jin Ling asked, quietly almost under his breath.
Jingyi only just managed to avoid sighing. “Lies are not permitted.” He said simply.
“Oh.” Jin Ling sat there for awhile longer leaving them in silence.
He was just getting comfortable again when Jin Ling spoke, clearly unable to leave it alone. “If Sizhui confessed to you tomorrow what would you do?”
“Why would he do that?” Jingyi asked.
“What, I mean,- never mind.” Jin Ling huffed, he sounded embarrassed? Upset? Jingyi couldn’t be sure, he couldn’t even be sure Jin Ling himself knew. This was a terrible conversation to be having in the dark he lamented, too exhausted to untangle Jin Ling’s feelings for him. Not for the first time Jingyi was certain the world would be a better place if everyone else had a few immutable rules to follow too.
“I’d tell him I am already in a relationship. My partner is annoying, doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut, has no manners at all, and really you should meet him, he always talks when he eats. It’s horri--”
Jin Ling launched himself at him with an aggrieved cry and they tumbled sideways across the bed, blankets caught between their legs and hopelessly tangled. “Stop.” Jin Ling demanded.
“But I love him anyways!”
Jin Ling tried to smother him with his hands while Jingyi giggled, unable to stop himself. Jin Ling was heavy on top of him, face hot where Jingyi rubbed his cheek against it when they eventually came to a stop pressed chest to chest legs tangled together. Jingyi caught Jin Ling’s lips in a soft and sweet kiss. Until Jin Ling broke it to hide his face in Jingyi’s neck, burrowing like he wasn’t too tall and broad for such an act.
“You really lo—feel that way about him?” Jin Ling mumbled hotly against his shoulder as if they hadn’t just been talking about this.
“You don’t?” Jingyi asked, and Jin Ling jolted in his arms, hissing between his teeth.
“Of course I don’t.” He replied shortly. “I’m not—there is you.” He trailed off.
Jingyi sighed, knowing Jin Ling could feel it. “Does knowing change anything? Ever since I was a child it was so natural to love him that I really thought everyone else must. I felt that way yesterday, and I will feel that way tomorrow. The way I feel about you is the same, it was there yesterday and I will still love you tomorrow. Nothing has changed.”
Jin Ling’s silence at least didn’t sound irritated so Jingyi laid there as allowed himself to be squished against the bed by a sulky sect leader.
A quick kiss against his collar bone, lingering long enough to be a question. He could just smack his lips against the top of Jin Ling’s head in a kiss hoping that would be enough of an answer for someone who couldn’t use their words like a reasonable adult.
“He did look pretty funny in that dress.” Jin Ling tentatively said. A peace offering.
Jingyi smiled against the ceiling. Funny wasn’t the words he would have used for what felt more like catching a kick behind the knees when you weren’t expecting it and left lying winded on the ground. Red fabric so different from his pale robes that Jingyi couldn’t blink. Eyes dark and large, mouth rouged and so different from how Sizhui normally presented himself. “He was so embarrassed.” Jingyi agreed jubilantly. Just far enough from ‘do not revel in the misfortune of others’ to still be funny.
Jin Ling was still talking quietly, his deep voice a rumble against Jingyi’s skin and he dropped off realizing he hadn’t been listening at all.
--
Currently.
Sizhui was quite green and doing a passable impression of a freshly risen corpse. He was holding together admirably well considering the rocking of the boat was not gentle.
“Is your friend okay?” The boat man asked, sending worried looks at the way Sizhui was weakly clinging to the side of the boat. “The next town won’t be until dusk and I don’t need anyone else dying on me.” He grumbled under his breath.
Jingyi stared at him unsure of how to respond to that statement on many levels. “He will be fine.” He said eventually. Surely no one had died from being water-sick? They must have died some other way. Which in itself was also not a comforting thought. Jingyi settled as far from Sizhui as he could in the confines of the boat. He had only been vomited on by one person and he wasn’t keen to repeat the experience. Sizhui didn’t look like he was going to keep his breakfast for much longer. Jingyi loved him, but not in a way that meant he was eager to examine the contents of his stomach.
He settled his robes around him so he was sitting more comfortably Jingyi closed his eyes, slowing his breathing and heartbeat until it was keeping time with the dip and roll of the boat. Birds called from the banks and fish broke the surface in little splashes hunting for the fat bugs that hovered lazily over the surface. The sun was warm against his face, the wind rushing through the valley was enough to keep him from overheating in the sunlight and toyed with the edges of his hair.
Sizhui threw up noisily over the railing, sounding particularly pathetic as he tired to muffle himself. The boatman made a disgusted sound but didn’t comment.
Jingyi let his mind slow to match the rocking of the boat allowing him to circulate his energy in time with the natural pulse of the river. She was fast, her current playful as she toyed with the little human craft. The natural energy here was too chaotic to be a truly good place to cultivate but Jingyi always enjoyed the sensations that encompassed the natural world.
Immersed in the mad jumble of a river’s energy he almost didn’t even notice it. Like a shadow slipping under the surface, could have been the play of light off an eddy. Just the faintest dip, only Jingyi was a talented cultivator in his own right and had been night hunting since he was a small boy.
Water ghouls.
He kept his posture relaxed; he didn’t let on that he knew they were there. They were probably drawn to Sizhui’s obvious distress if not actually his regurgitated breakfast. What surprised Jingyi, was when the boatman started cursing. He obviously didn’t have any cultivation skills, but clearly something about the boat or the water itself had tipped him off to the fact that something was amiss.
Sizhui moaned something that sounded a lot like ‘oh no’ making Jingyi’s lips twitch despite his display of feigned obliviousness.
“If your swords are for anything other than show, do something.” The boatman hissed, drawing back to the middle of the boat, paddle held carefully against his chest and eyes darting around wildly.
He blinked his eyes open. “Be calm, I will not let any harm come to you.” Jingyi replied, the surface of the water was smooth and Jingyi realized their boat wasn’t rocking like it had been before. Something so simple had alerted the man and not the creeping sensation of resentful energy focused on them. He could almost hear Senior Wei scolding him ‘the common people know more about the world than you. Even if you cultivate to immortality!’
“Worry about your friend, he is too close to the edge! If he wasn’t sick we might have been able to sneak past them.”
“Apologies.” Sizhui rasped, and it was so insincere that Jingyi barked out a laugh.
“I will protect him too.” Jingyi said, meeting Sizhui’s eyes briefly across the boat. Jingyi tilted his head a little and Sizhui nodded in understanding. For something this simple they didn’t need words. Years of training together, learning the same battle strategies acting faster and easier than words.
Sizhui let himself collapse more heavily against the side of the boat, delicately balanced to look like he might be easily toppled over the edge of the boat. The pitch of the boat shifted under Jingyi’s feet, water ghouls were crawling along the bottom, drawn to Sizhui like anyone might to a particularly ripe fruit.
Hands, skin wrinkled and fishbelly pale beginning to slip off skeletal fingers, trailed along the edge of the railing and slowly stalking until they were in striking distance. Jingyi watched them through narrowed eyes Sizhui gave no indication of knowing they were there, focused on bracing himself partially upright and looking like an easy meal.
Jingyi soundlessly slipped a talisman from his sleeve to just inside of his robe where he would be able to reach it easily. More hands, five maybe six water ghouls in total judging by the faint knocking against the hull barely perceptible over the harsh breathing of their boatman. More than would be normal for any given stretch of river let alone this uninteresting one.
Finally, two lunged their hands wrapping around Sizhui’s long robes with the intent to drag him into the water only to be met with unyielding resistance. In fact, as Sizhui moved backwards, his grip dragged them both from the water onto the boat which rocked violently with the motion.
The third water ghoul followed them up, crawling over the railing crouched low and grabbing at Sizhui’s legs trying to knock him over.
Jingyi was moving, motion a blur as he unsheathed Chungou, its clear white sword glare moving in the opposite direction as his forward momentum. Lopped the head clean off the being clinging to Sizhui’s right side and sent the flying head flying through the air to hit the water with a splash as the body spasmed across the floor of the boat. While it was still falling Jingyi had approached the second, tearing it from Sizhui’s arm and flinging it towards the water, he sent Chungou with it, angled to remove its head from its body as well, both hitting the water and sinking immediately.
Twisting his finger to call Chungou back to his hand he stabbed the last one through the chest, kicking it to the side as he did to avoid stabbing into the wood as well, kneeling to follow his blade down. He twisted and lifted the water ghoul’s jerking body with his blade both hands braced on the hilt. Bones cracked as he shifted his grip so the ghoul was held aloft speared on his sword, he tilted the sword so the sharp edge of Chungou ripped through the rest of its rib cage partially cutting it in half. The scream cut off with a wet sound, the body also slipping into the water which by now was dark with spilled rotting blood and organs. The ones in the water were chattering, splashing hands and feet around like a parody of children playing. Confused by all the dead meat in the water they couldn’t find their prey.
Jingyi leaned over the edge of the railing, throwing the talisman into the water. He infused it with his qi as soon as it hit the water before the ink could smudge. It flared suddenly, heat exploding so rapidly that the water began to boil around them cooking everything immediately. The movement stopped with inhuman shrieking.
Standing perfectly still Jingyi expanded his senses trying to pick up any lingering traces of inhuman creatures. That should have killed the last two but short of jumping into the water to find the bodies he couldn’t be sure.
“Oh.” Jingyi turned towards the faint exclamation just in time for Sizhui to promptly heave, it splattered against the wood of the boat and splashed up onto Jingyi’s boots, adding to the smell of rotting bloated corpse and boiled meat. “S-sorry!” Sizhui cried turning quickly heaving over the edge of the boat again.
Jingyi heroically stifled a sigh.
Surprisingly it was the boatman who moved to use his oar to push the headless bloated corpse of the water ghoul to the edge of the boat where they managed to tip it over and into the water to return to the cycle of nature as it should have. The boatman produced a bucket and even threw clean water to wash away the worse of the sticky partially rotten blood that had spilled all over and what looked like the pitiful remainder of Sizhui’s stomach. He worked quickly, as if unrattled by the experience.
“I am surprised you showed up so fast, we only sent word to the watch tower a few days ago.” The boatman said bitterly. “I didn’t think you were here to deal with the water ghouls, or else I would not have agreed to take you.” He cast a narrow-eyed look at Sizhui who once more resembled a corpse with mottled uneven face paint.
“About the water ghouls?”
“What else.” The boatman huffed.
“We are just passing through; I had no knowledge of any water ghouls in the area. I hope we have not inconvenienced you, but they should offer no further trouble.” Unless there were more, but they did tend to stick together probably due to enough remaining human instinct. If there had been more, they likely would have attacked as well. “That was an unusual number of them, has there been any major accidents recently?”
“No, they wash down the mountain, once you pass where this river meets the mountain water there are no more. I hear there was a dam near Qijia that broke, maybe they came from there. As long as they are gone it doesn’t matter.”
“Of course.” Jingyi tilted his head politely maintaining his placid expression through force of practice. The boatman muttered to himself in a dialect Jingyi couldn’t understand but didn’t sound grateful.
“How are you?” Jingyi asked when it looked like there was nothing left in Sizhui to lose and so no longer posed a threat to his clothing. Even ill, speaking with Sizhui was infinitely better than speaking with the irritating boat man. “It’s worse than usual.”
“I should not have eaten.” Sizhui lamented, his usually even voice twisted in an almost childish whine. Jingyi’s boots, hastily rinsed, agreed with him. “How does this affliction only get worse?”
Jingyi shook his head. He had never heard of anyone else who became quite so violently ill under the same circumstances. Transferring Sizhui some spiritual energy wouldn’t help; he could only watch as Sizhui suffered until they were on dry land again.
“Would you like me to make you sleep?”
Sizhui looked tempted by the idea, eyes glossy and red rimmed from retching, it would be a mercy. Eventually he frowned and shook his head, “I cannot, what if there are more water ghouls? I need to be able to help.”
“Please don’t.” Jingyi joked. The smile he got was small and a little pained.
They arrived at Dia Zi city the evening lanterns were being lit.
Sizhui looked at the dock as if he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. Jingyi didn’t bother to look around them, cities everywhere were all the same; this surprisingly pathetic side of Sizhui was much more amusing. Jingyi memorized the faint slump to his shoulders and the way even his hair seemed limp. As if Sizhui was too nauseous to keep up the distant coolness of his usual persona, laid vulnerable by his own stomach like so many great men before him.
Not until a familiar shout alerted him to someone walking one of the bridges that spanned the canal, golden robes caught the last of the sun and blazed, Jin Ling unmistakable even backlit. Jingyi waved to him, while Sizhui mimicked the movement slower and with less enthusiasm.
“I’ll let you off up there.” The boatman indicated with a nod of his head. Their boat was too wide to fit down the narrower canals despite the masterful way he was guiding them with his long pole. They were not quite to the center of the city, but it would be close enough. Sizhui stood unsteady on the boat while the boatman tied them off. Sizhui dug in his robe until he grabbed his coin purse.
The boatman shook his head, stepping away quickly further back onto the boat where Sizhui would not follow. “It would be unlucky, ensuring me a safe journey without those creatures on the way back is payment enough. Keep it. I will tell the cultivators that arrive to exterminate them that they were too late!”
“Then we will not insist.” Jingyi cupped his palm around Sizhui’s elbow and helped him over the small step to the dock which creaked slightly under their weight.
By the time they had come to the end of the dock Jin Ling was standing there, hands clasped behind his back and eyes narrowed, before his face turned down into a frown.
“Are you well?” He asked stepping forward as if to brace Sizhui’s other side.
“I am… here.” Sizhui replied diplomatically. Jingyi huffed a laugh.
“What happened?” Jin Ling began to lead them towards where the inns would be found. Knowing him Jing Ling had probably already arranged everything while he waited. Jin Ling did not do well with being idle.
“Water ghouls in the river attacked the boat.” Jingyi explained quickly about the request to the watch towers they had accidentally solved.
“A child could banish a water ghoul.” Jin Ling scoffed with a roll of his eyes.
“Five water ghouls.” Jingyi protested, knowing that Jin Ling had a point, a junior disciple could just have easily handled even that many at once. It had barely even registered as a fight considering how one-sided it was. Jingyi couldn’t let him go on believing that water ghouls would pose an issue.
“Fine. Five water ghouls.” Jin Ling sneered. “You must be tired, I already got us rooms, we can have some food—”
Sizhui swayed between them. “Please do not mention food.” He begged, face pale and shaken.
Jin Ling visibly panicked, checking over Sizhui as if for some unseen injury before turning his wide-eyed gaze on Jingyi. He would have laughed except Sizhui really did look miserable, and if their situations were reversed Sizhui would never tease him.
“This is the reason we never travel by boat.” Jingyi explained, picking up the pace a little. Sizhui would appreciate a place that was flat and immobile to sit. “It does not,” he paused trying to think of a good way to phrase it, “agree with Sizhui.”
Jin Ling’s eyebrows crept up. “I hadn’t considered that this was the reason you always rode to Carp Tower when the waterways are open all year.”
Jingyi smile, “Sizhui nearly vomited on a water ghoul.” Maybe a little teasing because he was never going to be as kind a person as Sizhui was.
Sizhui was giving him a faintly betrayed look. “If I remember I was sick on your shoes actually.”
Jingyi laughed awkwardly. “True.”
When he looked over Jin Ling’s puzzled frown had smoothed out into a genuine half smile. In the fading sunlight he gave the illusion of softness. He was beautiful, Jingyi thought, not for the first time, and unlikely to be the last.
“So you were felled by the river itself and not water ghouls? That is much more respectable.” Jin Ling hummed, unable to quite cut the warm amusement from his tone.
“Five water ghouls!” Jingyi protested because it made Jin Ling laugh.
Once safely tucked away in the corner of a tea house Sizhui slowly revived under the gentle administration of fluids, although he continued to refuse food.
“Does anyone else from Gusu Lan have such trouble with water travel?” Jin Ling asked.
“I do not think so.” Sizhui tucked some of his hair behind his ear looking at the tea set which was still steaming slightly. His complexion was no longer tinged with a worrying green.
“Weird.” Jin Ling grunted.
“It is only fair! Sizhui is good at everything else. All things must exist in balance.” Jingyi jokingly complained, Sizhui pressing his lips together like maybe he wanted to smile, but also didn’t want to display excessive pride. Maybe he was just thinking about food.
“I am adopted.” Sizhui reminded them. “Perhaps my parents were like this.”
The silence wasn’t quite comfortable. Jingyi looked at Jin Ling from the corner of his eyes, speaking of parents around him was often like testing to see if a bridge had rotted through by jumping on it. Sizhui was still staring contemplatively at the tea set.
“They must not have been from Yunmeng then.” Jin Ling said with a wry smile.
“I suppose not.” Sizhui laughed.