Work Text:
hua cheng had warned him once, only once.
i will not hinder your plans to take revenge. but heed my warning, you will not find the peace you’re looking for by destroying those who hurt you. you will only be burning the world and the gaping hole in your chest will remain empty even then.
it is quiet. his footsteps echo against the floor and it should be familiar but it is not—it is strange and foreign and he xuan wonders if this is how peace is supposed to feel like—like silence that consumes, much too big for any one person, thoughts inside your head so small and yet too large at once, your only companion.
he xuan wonders if this is what sparks fires and wars and bloodshed—that perhaps men find madness in peace, and sanity in war—however ironic it may seem. (war is loud, but when it is loud—you do not have to live with the thoughts inside your head. perhaps to some, this is peace.)
ming-xiong!
and then the voice laughs, softly. he xuan does not turn.
ming-xiong, look at me!
his voice is whiny, and so, so familiar. he xuan does not turn but he clenches his fists, ignores the way in which his body almost responds automatically(, his lips curling in distaste, and in contrary, his whole body turning to pay attention (because when had he ever ignored shi qingxuan’s bidding? that night, only that night)).
shi qingxuan’s voice is in his head like a punishment—or a melody—or a curse, or a reminder. he xuan does not know if he is being haunted by someone that is still alive or if he is being driven to insanity by the silence of seeming peace or—
ming-xiong, did you miss me?
or if he xuan only misses the wretched boy.
ming-xiong!
he xuan surmises there is not enough time to think it over when the only thing in his head seems to be this voice; thinks that on the hours that he does not, shi qingxuan does not deserve any more time being mulled over any more than necessary.
ming-xiong, that voice says. repeatedly—ming-xiong. ming-xiong, do you like this? do you like me? ah, ming-xiong, as expected, is the best! ming-xiong! ming-xiong, look at me!
but he is not mingyi.
aren’t you?
he is not.
but you are! you’re my ming-xiong! you’re always right here, by my side, making sure i don’t mess up. you’re always right here, making sure i’m not alone. surely, that wasn’t all pretend, ming-xiong?—it was not (but he does not have the courage to admit that to either qingxuan or himself)—ming-xiong, after all, is the best!
he xuan is not mingyi.
aren’t you?
he xuan is not a god.
i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, ming-xio—mingyi, i’m sorry, it’s my fault. i’m sorry, please.
he is not mingyi.
y…young master he…he…xuan…
he picks up the discarded shovel located on the nearby table and hurtles it towards a wall. stop.
STOP.
didn’t you tell me to call you he xuan?
a boy appears in front of him, dressed in dirtied robes of the god he used to be, shi qingxuan. he is neither divine nor pristine, he is desecrated and dirtied and spoiled and everything he xuan had wanted him to be—did you really? there is not a tinge of liveliness in his eyes, it is terribly, terribly empty, save for a small spark of rage he xuan could barely see.
this boy walks towards him, slowly, the same way qingxuan used to do when he had taken the form of a beautiful woman—and he xuan is almost entranced (like he always was)—except that this same boy pushes him, nudges him again and again and again and he xuan lets him. fire in his eyes burning brighter and brighter. in this light, he xuan could almost swear he sees shi wu du—didn’t you ask for this, he xuan? you killed my brother. you killed my brother. you killed my brother! don’t you hate me? when will you kill me? why won’t you kill me?!
then a scream shatters the illusion, and that shi qingxuan is gone. instead, there is another boy—a ghost in the corner of the room, dirtied with his brother’s blood and he is screaming and screaming and screaming. when he looks up at he xuan after a long while, his eyes are empty, mouth shut as if he’d never spoken in the first place, as if he never will again and he xuan cannot recognize him.
i want to die.
this time, he xuan only looks at him. he finds it difficult to understand a shi qingxuan that is looking at him but also seeming to look right past him. he xuan finds himself moving closer and crouching down until he was on eye-level, nearly kneeling in front of him and this qingxuan follows his movement with his eyes but does not otherwise move; he is neither defensive nor scared. i want to die, did you not hear me?
he does not know what shows on his face but shi qingxuan’s remain cold. he repeats only the same set of words and when he xuan reaches out for him, he disappears.
ming-xiong!
a soft, gentle hand touches him on the shoulder and he xuan has to admit that this is the part he is always most terrified of. this time, he turns around and he is faced with a shi qingxuan donning a familiar, bright smile; his eyes sparking with endless joy as he sat on the floor with crossed legs, his fan—beautiful and untainted, much like his clothes—on his lap. the moment he xuan turns his attention towards him, he begins his tales—the ones he always used to tell him up in the heavens no matter how many times he xuan has already heard of them.
if anyone asked why he xuan listens and remains, sits there as if nothing is wrong, that is not something he xuan can answer.
and then he waits for it. i’d seen the crown prince today, he was magnificent and strong as always but i swear i saw him sneak a ten-day old bread under his sleeves when i wasn’t looking, i swear i’d already thrown that away when we first saw it! you know, if my brother had a bigger say in this—i mean not that he’d care but! he would never let me eat anything like that. bright eyes look at him directly, loving and soft. and neither would you.
shi qingxuan stands up and dusts off his clothes. i cannot believe i just sat there on that hard floor for such a long time, my butt hurts. he turns around and walks towards the doors, if he xuan hadn’t known any better, he’d have thought he was being asked to come with. but, he xuan knows very well that their paths have long been cut down, they were not supposed to walk together. not anymore.
silence. shi qingxuan does not turn and he xuan silently watches his back.
thank you. for… for being with me for a long time. i do not know if i could have done it without you but i’d like to believe that i would have not. i don’t know if everything was deception. i’m not as smart as my brother or you or the crown prince, i’m not sharp and i cannot understand everything unless it is told to me plainly. but… but my heart, what i feel… i love my brother with all my heart and i would trade everything for him. i love you and i would trade my life in order to keep you safe as well.
this time, shi qingxuan turns, walks closer and touches he xuan’s face gently. he xuan does not move, only swallows, qingxuan has never done this before—look at him again. there is sadness in his eyes and he xuan is desperate to take it away but he cannot move, lest he wants it all to disappear.
my mind… is not sharp and it is not always in the right place and i cannot always control what it is that my heart feels but i… i do not think everything was deception. perhaps, at one point, you cared for me, hadn’t you wanted to save me? ming—he xuan, young master he—he has never done this before, either—i’m sorry.
“qingxuan,” he says. he recognizes the desperation in his voice—and it feels weird, that his voice seems distant, not like his own; it feels as though his body is not his to control as he moves forward—closer, closer. his face crumples up as shi qingxuan begins to fade, smiling sadly.
i’m sorry.
this is not the first time this happens and it has happened much too frequently for he xuan to still be able to keep count. but not being able to keep count of how long this has been going on doesn’t mean it makes experiencing it much easier.
“where is he?”
“i don’t make a habit of watching people i don’t have business with. and even if i do, you’re the last of them i would tell.”
he xuan seethes in quiet anger, but hua cheng does not budge. he’s right, of course he is. it does not make he xuan want any less.
“what? did you want him to grovel on your feet again? beg? there is no more left to beg for, you fool. he begged for his brother’s life but that is no longer an issue, and he will not beg for his life when he does not want it in the first place. he will neither beg for his death as well knowing you will never give it. just leave him be.”
he xuan does not respond.
“or,” hua cheng laughs briefly, the mock booming and echoing against the walls. “did you want to grovel on his feet instead? beg for his forgiveness, even if you do not feel so? anything, right? to satiate your guilt, the one eating you up from the inside? to give him a sense of safety? i warned you, hadn’t i? that revenge will not give you the peace you seek. you seek to comfort the very same person you destroyed? that’s hilarious.”
“…ultimately, hadn’t he been the one to murder his own brother? for having been born, for having been loved, for having been someone shi wu du wanted to save? in the end, hadn’t it been him that swung down the sword to cut his brother down? you and shi wu du practically thrusted this into his hands. i would think it genius on your behalf if it had been your intention, but you never reached this point of thought, hadn’t you? you only wanted to destroy and hurt, in any way, plain and clear. you know what i think?”
hua cheng pauses but does not wait for him to answer.
“i think, on that night, you were consumed by all your anger and grief that the conflicting thoughts you used to have about shi qingxuan could not even register—all those years of being with him and the numerous attempts of trying to save him from yourself—gone, because you were consumed in your vengeance. and in doing so, you complete your revenge: kill one brother, and make one unable to live with himself. we both know it is not you he is angry at, it is not you he cannot forgive, it is not you he hates, it is not you. because you do not matter anymore. not anymore. and those very facts scare you, that you do not matter anymore and that the only person you still wanted to protect has ended up resenting himself more than you had ever resented him, more than anyone will ever resent him,”
“you wanted to destroy them, and you had. this is not something shi qingxuan can be saved from, not even by you. this is much worse than death. in a way, you also had shi wu du destroying his own brother, regardless of him being aware that he did,”
“you should be happy.” hua cheng laughs—mockingly, angrily. but it does not matter, because all he xuan can hear is shi qingxuan’s soft laughter. somehow, that is much worse.
ming-xiong!
a soft, gentle hand touches him on the shoulder and this remains the part he is always most terrified of. he turns around and he is faced with shi qingxuan, again, donning a familiar, bright smile; his eyes sparking with endless joy as he sat on the floor with crossed legs, his fan—beautiful and untainted, much like his clothes—on his lap. the moment he xuan turns his attention to him, he begins his tales—the ones he always used to tell him up in the heavens no matter how many times he xuan has already heard of them.
if anyone asked why he xuan listens and remains, sits there as if nothing is wrong, that is not something he xuan will answer.
he waits for it. i’d seen the crown prince today, he was magnificent and strong as always but i swear i saw him sneak a ten-day old bread under his sleeves when i wasn’t looking, i swear i’d had thrown that away when we first saw it! you know, if my brother had a bigger say in this—i mean not that he’d care but! he would never let me eat anything like that. bright eyes look at him directly, loving and soft. and neither would you.
then shi qingxuan stands up and dusts off his clothes. i cannot believe i just sat there on that hard floor for such a long time, my butt hurts. he turns around and walks towards the doors, he xuan wants to come with. he cannot. not anymore.
silence. shi qingxuan does not turn and he xuan silently watches his back.
thank you. for… for being with me for a long time. i do not know if i could have done it without you but i’d like to believe that i would have not. i don’t know if everything was deception. i’m not as smart as my brother or you or the crown prince, i’m not sharp and i cannot understand everything unless it is told to me plainly. but… but my heart, what i feel… i love my brother with all my heart and i would trade everything for him. i love you and i would trade my life in order to keep you safe as well.
shi qingxuan turns, walks closer and touches he xuan’s face gently. he xuan does not move, his mouth quivers briefly but he bites it.
my mind… is not sharp and it is not always in the right place and i cannot always control what it is that my heart feels but i… i do not think everything was deception. perhaps, at one point, you cared for me, hadn’t you wanted to save me? ming—he xuan, young master he… i’m sorry. and then qingxuan sobs. it is my fault. i… had done this to you. i had done this to my brother. i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean—i didn’t—if i could give it all back, i would. gods, i would. you did not deserve this pain and i… if i could have done it differently, if i could have just gone—then, then i would. i’m so sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry.
“qingxuan,” he says, the desperation is there, in his voice—palpable, and he xuan is almost sure he can touch it if he reaches out. instead, he opens his arms and watches shi qingxuan’s eyes widen in surprise, his lips quivering, tears spilling from his eyes—he moves forward and he xuan wraps his arms around him—tightly, familiarly, desperately.
this, he says, ming-xiong, he pulls away, cupping both of he xuan’s cheeks, smiles at him—gentle and sad—and he is translucent but he xuan can still feel him in his arms, is my goodbye.
farewell, ming-xiong.
and then it is cold and it is silent and it is peace.
he xuan thinks this is what sparks fires and wars and bloodshed—men find madness in peace, and sanity in war—however ironic it may seem. (war and anger and revenge is loud, but when it is loud—you do not have to live with the thoughts inside your head. to some, to him, he finds out now, this is peace.)
(“i want to die.”
he xuan’s limbs are tired, his anger simmering down in the face of shi qingxuan’s emptiness.
you cannot, because i need you. but it is a wretched thought.
so instead, he clenches his jaws and fists, says, “dream on.”
you cannot, because i do not know how to live without you.
you cannot, because he xuan is selfish, because he xuan does not know how to fix this, because.
because the world is burning and i have destroyed you but i want to fix it, need to fix it, need to—need you to be okay.
because. just because.)
farewell, ming-xiong.