Archive of Our Own

A breeze ghosted over Shi Qingxuan, sending shivers down her spine. It would be more pleasant if she closed the window of her room to stave off the night air, but she refused to abandon her vigil at the window sill. The landscape stretched out beneath her, a sea of trees peeking over the manor’s wall.

Far below, a hulking figure neither human nor ordinary beast skulked through the open grounds. Shi Qingxuan’s eyes followed it, its form difficult to make out by the dim light of the moon.

The proud horns of a deer, the large head of a camel, the long body of a snake, the armored chest of a cockle, the shining scales of a carp, the sharp claws of an eagle, the broad paws of a tiger, and the perky ears of an ox—it could only be a dragon.

It lumbered through the grounds, leaving scars in the earth with its claws as the ground trembled under its weight, before it quietly snaked its way into a large hole it had dug for itself. Shi Qingxuan waited with bated breath, straining her ears for any noises the creature might make.

When all was silent, she grinned.

She vaulted from the window, a small pack of supplies already slung over her shoulder from under the window. She winced as her feet cracked against the tiles on the eave, but hopefully the dragon hadn’t heard her.

Thus, her dash began, her legs working beneath her to carry her across the manor’s roof and towards the wall where a quirk of the architecture brought it just close enough to the wall to theoretically jump the distance. She’d never actually tried it before, but there was a first time for everything.

Feet leaving the safety of the roof, she soared in the air for a moment before plummeting.

She did make the distance, for the record. Her landing was just not quite as graceful as she’d been picturing in her head. Her ankle gave out upon contact with the wall’s roof, causing her to tumble and roll across it. She might’ve fallen off, too, if not for the fact her back dumped into something solid to halt her momentum.

“Ow, ow, ow,” she muttered, groaning in pain. She floundered for a moment, before the sound of low growling froze her.

Carefully, she sat up, only to meet the slitted eyes of the very beast she’d been trying to avoid.

A laugh, half hysterical, escaped her lips as pain numbed her brain. “Oh, hi there. You know, this really isn’t what it looks like. Sorry to disturb your night, really, won’t happen again… so um, you can just… rest easy from now on?”

The dragon kept its eyes fixed on her, not once reacting to her words. Even though she knew it was bound to this manor and to protecting her by her brother’s magic and therefore was incapable of hurting her, that didn’t stop panic from overtaking her each time she was forced into an encounter with it.

(Forced was a strong word, considering it was her own actions that had summoned it. Had she simply waited in her room, the dragon would’ve had no reason to emerge.)

She tried to stand, but the moment she placed weight on her ankle, it buckled underneath her and sent her back to the roof.

Really… she may have misjudged the distance of the jump.

The dragon growled, sending hot air blowing across her even as her blood froze in terror. With slow, elegant steps, it curled around her on the roof, and she shook too hard to move. Carefully, with two of its fangs, it plucked her up by the back of her dress and lowered her to the ground, dumping her there.

It then lost all interest in her now that she had no hope of scaling the wall and escaping. It hunkered off, no doubt to slither back into the hole it called home.

“I hate you, you know,” she spat without thinking. It paused, its large and slitted eye flickering back to stare at her. She wanted to shrink back, for it to lose interest in her again, but the part of her that was blazing with fury was, for once, taking hold of her and driving the fear to the recesses of her mind. Or, perhaps, the fear was stoking the rage.

“I really do,” she continued. “If it weren’t for you, I’d have already escaped ten times over. If it weren’t for you…”

The heat died as quickly as it came, and Shi Qingxuan lowered her head, refusing to look at the dragon any further. It was silent, deadly so, until the sound of shifting scales and claws digging into the earth filled the air. They grew quieter and quieter, until she knew it was gone.

Shi Qingxuan sat there for who knew how long, forgetting that she was capable of breathing. She stayed just like that until one of the three servants who worked and lived in the manor found her and hoisted her onto their shoulders, walking with her until she was back to her room.

Once the rest of the staff was alerted, her ankle was treated with alarming speed, but not once did a single one of them speak with her or ask her why. The servants then left as quickly as they’d arrived, leaving her alone.

Again.

She was always alone.

She let herself fall into the bed and curled in on herself, knowing full well that she wouldn’t get a wink of sleep that night.

-/-/-

One of the servants—and there were only three, but that she didn’t even know any of their names should tell you how much they interacted with her—left a wooden crutch out with her food. Both went untouched that day, even as the tray of food was twice replaced. The same routine repeated the next day.

She was silently hoping that if she sulked hard enough, her brother would get concerned and show up to see her in person. Then, at least, he could relieve some of the loneliness that threatened to blacken her heart and eat her alive.

She missed him. She missed people.

She knew that this was for her own good, that Shi Wudu was only trying to protect her from the terrible fate she’d been shackled to from the time of her birth. He’d gone to great lengths, even going so far as to bind a heavenly dragon as the manor’s guardian to keep out the foretold Reverend of Empty Words.

Unfortunately, she was never very good when it came to fortitude or patience. By the beginning of her second day of sulking, she could no longer stand the hunger clawing at her. When the servants brought her morning meal, she ate it with all the gusto of someone who’d truly been starving (not that she was happy about it).

Her room quickly lost its appeal, as well. There were only so many books she’d stored within it, and there were only so many hours of the day she could spend reading or writing. She needed to go outside, and even if she couldn’t run around with her ankle, it was still something different.

So she hobbled to the door and grasped the crutch, testing her weight on it. She felt like an old man, honestly speaking, but it did lessen the pain of walking without her having to hop around on one foot.

She padded out, the crutch clicking loudly on the wooden floor.

The servants would hear her coming now, which meant she didn’t have a single hope of seeing any of them. They avoided her when they could, out of fear as her position as the younger sibling and only current heir to the King.

Some heir she was, though. Shi Wudu hadn’t bothered to have her to keep up with her studies.

“I will have children, and you will be taken care of. There’s no need for you to continue your studies because you will not succeed me.”

She scoffed at the memory of his words, and she almost wanted to go back to her room and write him another scathing letter on why it was dumb of him to dismiss her entirely from the line of succession.

She knew she was his baby sibling, and she knew he didn’t think she could handle anything on her own. She wanted to prove him wrong, if only he’d actually give her a chance to.

With her world reduced to a tiny bubble, she knew she wouldn’t be able to. So she’d simply have to burst it if she ever wanted any semblance of freedom ever again.

Unfortunately for Shi Qingxuan, her crutch caught on something as she rounded a corner, sending her tumbling towards the floor. On pure instinct, she tried to steady herself using her still healing leg, but the moment she placed weight on it, it buckled beneath her.

A gasp—and were it not for the fact she hadn’t opened her mouth, she would have mistaken it for her own—and her form tensed as she kareened and prepared herself for the pain of hitting the floor.

It never came.

Instead, she jerked to a stop mid fall, suspended there with a crushing grip on her shoulders. She hissed, and almost immediately, the pain on her shoulders disappeared, taking the support with it. She fell in a heap, but at least she had been close enough to the floor that it didn’t hurt.

She whipped her head around, catching sight of the person who’d made an attempt at catching her.

A woman stood there, and Shi Qingxuan had to crane her neck to get a good look from her position on the floor. The woman’s eyes were blown wide, and her clothes were fine, though most of Shi Wudu’s servants wore finery of a similar caliber. A deep blue gemstone was set into the collar of her outfit, the color striking and almost familiar even if Shi Qingxuan couldn’t quite place where she’d seen it before. Her hair was pinned up in a single tail, and plated gold earrings framed her face, accented by sharp cheekbones, a sharper jawline, and pinched brows.

In short, she was pretty, illegally so. And more importantly, she was someone Shi Qingxuan didn’t recognize.

If this was a new servant, someone whose views and perceptions of her hadn’t been tainted by fear of her older brother, then she at least stood a chance of being able to befriend her.

She might not have to be alone anymore.

Shi Qingxuan arranged herself on the floor, trying to make herself somewhat presentable despite the awkwardness of the encounter and her position. She beamed up at the servant and started, “Hello! I’m Shi Qingxuan. Thank you for catching me, sort of, but I have to say, you’re rather bad at that. You dropped me again!”

Still, the servant didn’t say anything in response, the silence hanging heavily in the air. Instead, her brows furrowed further as she took a step back.

“Ah… pass me the crutch?” Shi Qingxuan felt she was losing her quickly, so a shift in tactics was due. Obligation! Great conversation starter.

She held out her hand for the crutch, but the gesture only made the servant take another step back, then another, building until she was slowly retreating back and away from Shi Qingxuan.

Her heart sank.

“No, wait!” she exclaimed, right as the servant was about to back around the corner. “You can’t ditch me! I need help! Pleeeeaaaaaase.”

...She was not above whining, if the situation (read: getting what she wanted) called for it. It was her secret weapon against Shi Wudu, though sadly, it never worked in cases where her safety or well-being were involved. If only he factored her social life into her well being.

The servant lingered for only a moment longer before whipping around on her heels and disappearing around the corner.

Shi Qingxuan groaned and let herself flop onto the floor. Shi Wudu would yell at her for the indignity of it, but he wasn’t here, and neither were all the servants he sent because they were too busy avoiding her.

She hated this.

-/-/-

Of course, Shi Qingxuan was never one to give up easily.

The day his foot was healed enough for him to place weight on it without it hurting all that much, he ditched the crutch. He still had to watch his steps carefully, but at least now, he was somewhat more mobile and a lot more stealthy.

Like this, he would be able to sneak up on a servant without them hearing him coming and running away first.

Okay, perhaps that was a bit cruel, but Shi Qingxuan was growing desperate. There were only four total servants, and the other three were pretty much hopeless cases in terms of befriending them. They were too quiet and meek and terrified when he tried to speak with them. If Shi Qingxuan tried to tease any of them, they’d likely faint on the spot, and even as desperate as he was, he wasn’t going to actively cause someone distress just so he could chat.

But the newer servant… she was a bit different.

She had a proud set to her shoulders, and though she hadn’t spoken a word during their first encounter, Shi Qingxuan didn’t think she had run away out of fear. Surprise or uncertainty, maybe, or just not knowing what to say or do, but she hadn’t seemed intimidated like the other servants. More like… she just didn’t want to deal with the situation.

Shi Qingxuan could work with that. His leg was pretty much healed now, so he wasn’t a project or a rescue case anymore! Hopefully, that might give him a bit more control of the situation, and maybe he could make things less awkward for the servant.

With that in mind, he set out.

The years of being stuck in the manor had left Shi Qingxuan familiar with its every nook and cranny, but even so, it was still massive. Shi Wudu would be damned if he let his little sibling live in subpar conditions. If Shi Qingxuan was to live in a cage, it would be the finest cage imaginable.

Really, Shi Wudu kept saying how it was the life Shi Qingxuan always wanted—he could longue around all day without lifting a finger and do as he pleased.

“As if,” Shi Qingxuan scoffed to himself. “I need people, Ge. Come on.”

Well… now he was getting distracted. But yes, the estate was huge, so even if Shi Qingxuan knew it by heart and could wander its halls blindfolded without a problem, it was still terribly difficult to find anyone. Only five people total lived here, Shi Qingxuan and four servants, and yet the manor was built to house dozens if not hundreds more than that. It was fit for a King, and yet only lonely old Shi Qingxuan lived there with three servants who avoided him like their King would crawl from his shadow and eat them.

So Shi Qingxuan had to find the fourth servant before her opinion of him was corrupted by fear, as well.

He searched for hours and hours, and yet, no servant. He even managed to bump into a few of the other servants too, but none of them could tell him where she was. In fact, they acted as though they didn’t know who he was talking about at all, which was odd. He assumed the servants at least spoke to one another, even if they did exclude Shi Qingxuan.

It was only when he gave up and wandered out to the garden that he found her.

The garden was a beautiful place. Not because it was well maintained—no, the lack of staff due to his brother’s paranoid nature meant that unimportant jobs like gardener went unfilled—but because nature had reclaimed it and given it a unique charm. The walls which Shi Qingxuan hated so much were covered by vines, and the bushes and trees had gone untrimmed and burst into large and rugged shapes. There was a pond to one side, its still surface barely visible beneath the blankets of lotus leaves, and a bridge stretched over it.

And there she was, the woman from the other day, framed in the beauty of unkempt nature. She started at the wisteria flowers, the breeze playing with both them and her hair.

“Hello!” Shi Qingxuan exclaimed, his voice bright.

The woman started, her golden eyes flashing towards him. “...It’s you.”

“I never caught your name the other day,” Shi Qingxuan said, grinning as he approached the woman. Aside from her initial surprise, she showed no signs of wanting to flee or fear of him, a fact which had his chest fluttering. Her eyes were cold and uncaring. “My name is Shi Qingxuan!”

“I know,” she replied. “...Ming Yi.”

“Ming-jie! Can I call you that?”

“No.”

“Ah…. Shijie?”

“...”

Shi Qingxuan grinned. “Shijie, it is!”

Ming Yi leveled a glare his way, but since she didn’t actually protest the address, Shi Qingxuan counted it as a victory.

“So what brings you out here?” Shi Qingxuan pressed. “It’s a nice place to take a break, sure, but didn’t you know? This happens to be my favorite spot on the grounds. I come out here because it’s pretty. Do you also think it’s pretty? I bet you do. How could anyone not think so when met with a sight like this? Granted, it is a bit unkempt, but I think it gives it a rugged charm.”

“You talk too much.”

Shi Qingxuan broke into a fit of laughter, chiming like the wind. “So everyone tells me! But I have no one to talk to, so I have to talk twice as much as the normal person to keep myself occupied.”

“You don’t need people to entertain you,” Ming Yi said, her voice clipped even though it was the most she had spoken.

“But people are the best kind of fun,” Shi Qingxuan argued. He was having to fight to keep his smile from growing too big. This was the most he’d ever spoken with anyone other than his brother in a long, long time. “Like talking with you right now! It’s really interesting to learn details about others, to listen to their thoughts and feelings, the way they sound when they talk about certain things. People are so complex and unpredictable, and life is so much less lonely with more of them around.”

“...Is that so.”

“Of course!”

She fell silent, her gaze shifting from Shi Qingxuan to the flowers.

It was odd. She had seemed almost out of her depth last they met, like a skittish creature with no clue what to do when Shi Qingxuan had bumped into her. Now she seemed much more comfortable in her own skin, her eyes not betraying a hint of uncertainty. She held herself with the same pride that Shi Wudu did, but with a clear distinction. Where Shi Wudu’s self-assurance was born of a lack of respect for others, Ming Yi’s almost seemed to be apathy towards others more than anything else.

Of course, he was only gathering this from a short conversation with her, but he hoped his hunch was correct. As much as he loved his brother, he didn’t need a second Shi Wudu in his life. One was already more than enough.

“I have to go,” Ming Yi said suddenly, and like a spell broken, she started down the cracked stone path of the garden.

It was so abrupt that it took a moment for Shi Qingxuan to register what happened, but when he did, he started down the path after her. “Ah, wait! If you have to go back to your duties, then it’s fine! The other three have gotten along fine without you. Besides, aren’t I the master of this house? I say it’s fine for you to slack off some!”

Ming Yi paused her steps to shoot him an incredulous look. “A poor lord you make.”

“Ah… Well, I never claimed to be a good one.”

Ming Yi snorted, then continued walking. Obviously, his words weren’t swaying her, so he slowed to a step and watched as her form grew smaller.

It was the same as it always was. It was starting to feel like he would just be doomed to solitude no matter what he did, the shadow of his brother’s protection becoming nothing more than suffocating.

Then, she stopped and glanced back. For a brief moment, her eyes reflected something, but there was too much distance between them for Shi Qingxuan to tell what. “The same place and time tomorrow. I’ll be there.”

And just like that, the shadow was gone. Shi Qingxuan grinned so hard it felt like his face might break in two, but he didn’t care. “Okay! I’ll see you then, Shijie!”

She snorted and walked away, disappearing behind the flowering wisteria.

-/-/-

If it wasn’t obvious by now, Shi Qingxuan loved to wander.

Like a captive animal pacing at the edge of its cage, he had too much energy and too much desire to jump free of the bonds shackling him to this place. He was bundled in thicker cloth to stave off the chill of night with a lantern in hand, casting its dull warm glow into the endless shadows.

It was pretty fun, actually. Shi Qingxuan was so used to and sick of the sights within the manor that even a change of the lighting was enough to make them almost appear like they were a new place, and just the thought of that lie was enough to excite Shi Qingxuan.

He had no actual plans to try and escape that night, tempting as it might be. The ground trembled every once and a while, and he knew all too well what that meant.

Somewhere in this darkness, a god prowled.

So long as he didn’t try to escape, the dragon should leave him alone. Until he’d formulated a good plan, he wasn’t going to go against that thing again. Bound by his brother’s will it may be, it was still a creature of heaven that would always be far more powerful than Shi Qingxuan could ever hope to be.

If he wanted to sneak past it, then he’d have to be smart about it.

...Which wasn’t exactly one of his strengths.

He sighed, adjusting his grip on the lantern as he rounded a bend. He froze when he was met with a warm puff of air, far too strong to come from anything natural, and the light of his lantern winked out.

The moon shone brightly, but without the lantern, Shi Qingxuan was lost in the dark until his eyes adjusted. Still, he didn’t need to see to know what was in front of him. The warmth of the air was accompanied by a musk, which brought to mind the warm breath of a person.

Only a person couldn’t breathe that heavily. No, it would take a creature ten or twenty times the size of a person to produce a breath that strong.

Shi Qingxuan would like to say that he remained fixed, not so much as flinching, because he knew any sudden movements might spell disaster for him. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. He was just too terrified to move, the fear clamping his muscles and freezing his heart and lungs.

Slowly, things came into focus, the blurry form of the dragon taking shape under the light of the moon. Its dark scales were bathed in blue light, and its snout was just a few paces in front of him. Shi Qingxuan had nearly walked straight into it.

Shi Qingxuan was never wandering around at night ever again.

His mind was slow to restart, still stuttering with terror. He stared, mouth gaping, unable to react as the dragon inched closer.

Involuntarily, Shi Qingxuan took a step back, then another. Only, the last step had him stumbling. Over what, he was too scared out of his wits to tell, but before he knew it, he was on the ground, lantern broken next to him and robes spread undignified around him.

The dragon dipped its head before slowly slinking away, the ground shaking with each of its steps.

-/-/-

It took some time for Shi Qingxuan to recover from the fright of that night, but once she had, she spent all her time formulating strategies to befriend the new servant. (Perhaps she should have put more effort into her escape plan, but, well… She always had been better at social planning than strategic planning.)

When they next met again, Shi Qingxuan came prepared. She brought with her a set of dice, one of the few games she actually owned.

She wasn’t too good at it, honestly speaking. Her luck was as fickle as the wind, either smiling on her with a gentle breeze or gusting hard enough to knock her off her feet. It was fun, though. The unpredictability of it always kept things interesting, especially back when she was able to convince her brother to play with her.

It’d been some years since she’d actually been able to play, with him or anyone else.

But! She was definitely planning on fixing that.

“Shijie!” she exclaimed, throwing herself onto Ming Yi’s back. Somehow, she’d managed to sneak up on the servant, and she took full advantage of that to glomp her.

Ming Yi made a choking noise before twisting in Shi Qingxuan’s grip and shoving her off.

Shi Qingxuan laughed as she half-fell back, just managing to catch herself on the wall. No one else would have dared treat her like that, lest they earn the ire of her brother.

Ming Yi didn’t care. She wasn’t scared of Shi Wudu.

Shi Qingxuan already loved her for it.

“Hello, Shijie!” she greeted again, waving her arms happily but this time respecting Ming Yi’s personal space. “How are you? Have you done anything since we last met?”

“You found me quick,” Ming Yi grumbled.

Shi Qingxuan grinned. “Of course I did! I don’t have much to do, and I don’t really have many friends. When I get a friend, I gotta make sure we spend plenty of time together!”

“We’re not friends.”

“Hm… maybe not yet,” Shi Qingxuan admitted, because even she could recognize that the third or second meeting was too soon to call someone as distant as Ming Yi a friend, “but I hope to be!”

Ming Yi crossed her arms, her earrings clanking against her neck as she turned her head. But. She wasn’t protesting that declaration of Shi Qingxuan’s, so she took that as a victory and grinned.

Then, she stuck out her hand with the dice. “I have a game we can play! A bonding game, if I do say so myself. It really should be a lot of fun, though I’m not sure since I haven’t gotten the chance to actually play it. I thought of it after Ge stuck me here, see, so I haven’t had anyone to test it out with yet.”

“You’ve never played dice?” At this, Ming Yi raised an eyebrow.

“No, I have. Have you, Shijie?”

“...Too many times.”

Shi Qingxuan giggled. “Okay, then! That means I don’t have to explain the basics, at least. Just my own special flare on the game. You interested?”

Ming Yi leveled a mild glare at her before slowing taking a seat at the low lying table in the room. Grinning, Shi Qingxuan took the seat across from her.

They were in the library because that’s where Shi Qingxuan managed to run into Ming Yi. Shi Qingxuan rarely came here herself since she’d grown rather sick of reading (it was one of the few things to do for the longest time, so she just… desperately hated it now), but Ming Yi seemed to have no problem immersing herself in the various scrolls and tombs stacked on the library’s walls.

Technically speaking, servants shouldn’t be allowed to read them since they were a part of Shi Wudu’s private collection and only here for Shi Qingxuan’s sake, but Shi Qingxuan certainly wouldn’t rat Ming Yi out to anyone. It’s not like they were being read, anyway. Someone might as well enjoy them.

“Okay, so!” Shi Qingxuan started. “This game is simple. The winner is whoever rolls the highest number, but whoever wins gets to ask the loser one question they have to answer honestly. Sound fun? It’s a good bonding game, isn’t it?”

“...This is a rather simple game,” Ming Yi said flatly.

Shi Qingxuan hummed in response, her mood not dampered a bit by Ming Yi’s response. She was just happy to have any company at all. “Do you have another game you’d like to play, then? Or something else you’d like to do instead?”

“...No.” Sighing, Ming Yi held out her hand. “I’ll play.”

Grinning, Shi Qingxuan dumped the dice into Ming Yi’s outstretched hand. Without much ceremony, she dumped them onto the table, the clacking ringing through the library.

A five and a four.

“Not bad!” Shi Qingxuan remarked, scooping up the dice for herself. Of course, when she rolled, she had to make a show of it, blowing on the dice and shaking them in her clasped hands for good measure. Ming Yi rolled her eyes at the display.

But when she finally tossed them onto the table, they displayed a six and a four.

“Ah, looks like I just barely won this one!”

Ming Yi frowned down at the results. “...What do you want to know?”

“Hm… you started working here recently, right? Where did you live before coming here?” Shi Qingxuan asked, excitement bubbling into her voice.

“In the mountains.”

With that, she scooped the dice up and threw them again, this time rolling two sixes. A small smile tugged at her features, and the expression had Shi Qingxuan’s heart fluttering in her chest.

Then, she blinked.

“Your answer was really short,” she commented, making no move to pick the dice up. “Is that all I get for winning? Three lousy words? Do you know how many mountains there are? I want to learn more about you, Shijie!”

Ming Yi rolled her eyes. “Quit whining. You lost. It’s my turn to ask.”

...She had a point. They could either tie or it would be Shi Qingxuan’s loss—there was no beating two sixes. She might as well just hear whatever Ming Yi’s question was going to be.

“...Fine. I’ll admit defeat, but next time, I want more than three words if I win!”

“You’re a pain,” Ming Yi sighed. “You keep changing the way you dress. I thought hum—people were rigid when it comes to gender roles.”

“So… you want to know why?” Shi Qingxuan guessed.

Ming Yi nodded.

Huh. She’d never had anyone ask before—her brother simply saw it as a result of her unconventional upbringing, while the rest of the world just saw her as an eccentric. Genuine curiosity, without the bite of judgement behind it, was new.

So when she answered, she answered honestly. “Growing up… there’s this thing called the Reverend of Empty Words. It’s something evil, and a fortune teller said that I would fall victim to it. To protect me, my family pretended to swap children with another family and raised me as a girl. After Ge was crowned King, he tried to get me to dress solely as a man, but I realized it wasn’t just switching between dressing as a man or a woman I liked—sometimes, I feel more like one or the other or neither or both, too. Does that make sense?”

“Mn.” Ming Yi only hummed, her eyes glassy and unfocused.

Well, at least it wasn’t a negative reaction. When it came to matters like these, sometimes that was just the best Shi Qingxuan found she could hope for.

“Why are you curious, anyway? Would you like to try dressing like a man?” she asked, leaning closer. She hoped her smile and teasing words were enough to bury her unease. “I can give you pointers! It’s very fun, I can assure you.”

Ming Yi snorted. “It’s not your turn to ask.”

“Ahaha, fair point! Okay, I’ll just roll again then.” And roll again she did, this time managing a two and one. It was an abysmally bad roll, though she supposed it was still technically better than two ones.

Which… Ming Yi just so happened to roll after Shi Qingxuan passed her the dice.

Shi Qingxuan laughed so hard her sides hurt and she nearly fell to the ground, her form slumped over the table and heaving with the force of her laughter. She only just caught the sound of Ming Yi’s quiet grumbling over the sound of her own merriment, and it was enough of a reminder that she was trying to befriend this person for her to calm her laughs into stuttered giggles.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” she managed. “I just… wasn’t expecting us to both roll so badly.”

“Luck is cruel.”

“I’ll drink to that!” Then, Shi Qingxuan realized they had no alcohol, and she slumped in her seat. Curse her lack of foresight, but the disappointment was quickly chased away when she remembered she won. “Do you want to crossdress?!”

“No.”

Aaaaand it was back again.

Ming Yi ignored Shi Qingxuan pouting into the table and scooped the dice up again. She let them roll from her hand and onto the table, this time rolling two fours. Then, she glanced expectantly up at Shi Qingxuan.

Shi Qingxuan was starting to lose interest in the game, but for the sake of bonding with Ming Yi, she’d persevere. She rolled, and this time, her roll was a five and a six.

Grinning, she asked, “Do you have a family?”

Of course, she regretted the question the moment it left her lips. Ming Yi’s face darkened, the light fading from her golden eyes and the set of her features hardening. She lowered her head, her bangs falling to obscure her expression.

Shi Qingxuan’s heart sank. “Um… if you… we can stop playing, if you want. You don’t have to answer. We can do something else.”

Without a word, Ming Yi stood from the table and strode out of the library. Shi Qingxuan watched her leave, heart thudding too loudly in her chest for her to think of trying to stop or follow her.

Shi Qingxuan bit her lip and cast her gaze downwards.

Her brother wasn’t careless, and he could often be cruel if it meant accomplishing his goals. This, Shi Qingxuan held no illusions about. She knew the treatment all too well, since her brother was willing to lock her, his own little sibling, in a manor and isolate her from everyone she’d ever known to protect her from falling into the hands of the Reverend of Empty Words.

None of the servants ever left the manor. She’d never thought about it before, but… they had to be carefully selected by Ge. If people had families and lives outside of this manor, they would want to leave it, and Shi Wudu would likely want to prevent people from coming and going, as it opened up too many holes for people to sneak in or out if the servants were free to leave.

To gather people with no families or lives… people who would be content with living out the rest of their lives in a place that might as well be their lonely grave…

Perhaps… there were people more tragic than herself trapped in these walls.

-/-/-

She found herself wandering at night yet again.

The air was growing colder as autumn grew older, but the cooling temperature wasn’t enough to deter her at the moment. Not even the prospect of running into the dragon was going to keep her inside that night.

(Admittedly, the fear of seeing it again had kept her to the safety of her room for many nights, but she was determined this night wouldn’t be one of them.)

She hummed as she skipped over the stones in the pond, and she jumped up to balance on the railing of one of the stone bridges. She hopped back down when a hunk of the structure came loose, falling into the pond and disturbing its formerly tranquil surface.

“Whoops,” she said aloud. She ran a hand over the broken railing and frowned at it.

If this were Ge’s palace, he would never let it fall into such disrepair. Untrimmed vines lapped the bridges base, and she had no doubt that the structure would continue to deteriorate so long as they grew.

She wondered which would last longer: her imprisonment in this place or the bridge? Would she be able to watch as her gilded cage crumbled around her?

She sighed, but she paused when the light from her lantern caught the glimmer of scales.

The mansion’s gardens were limited, and the dragon was large. There wouldn’t be many places for it to rest, so it was only a matter of time before her wandering brought her to it. She could count on one hand the number of times that wandering the garden at night hadn’t ended with her dashing inside after the terror of catching a glimpse of it gave her.

She took a deep breath, and for once, she took a step towards it.

There were stories more tragic than her own within these walls.

Her footfalls were soft as she drew near, but the dragon still seemed to hear her. It raised its head, a slitted and massive golden eye fixing itself on her.

That eye once filled her with terror. But now, when she looked at it, she only saw something vaguely familiar rather than the promise of an angry beast behind it.

She wasn’t sure why. Fears had never eased this quickly for her before, and she was by no means an unshakeable person. She could ignore her fear and put one foot in front of the other, but never was she able to truly quell it until the source of her fear was gone.

Maybe it was because she knew what her death would look like, a fate foretold before she took her first breath. The ultimate source of fear loomed over her head, as unchangeable as the sun setting in the evening. She was resigned to it.

If she were being honest, though, a part of her was happy that her brother was still trying so hard for her sake.

She just wished it wasn’t at the cost of her freedom and happiness. If she was to die a horrible death, then she at least wanted to be able to live her life to its fullest.

She shook her head, and the dragon shifted in response. She thought she’d start when it moved, but for some reason, it no longer scared her.

She just… wasn’t afraid of it anymore.

That was a rare thing.

She took another step forward. “Hello… He Xuan, right? That’s your name?” There were only so many dragons, and all were revered. From its color, it was most likely He Xuan, a dragon of the ocean and the seas.

The dragon did nothing for a moment, watching her with a curious eye. Then, a low rumbling, but one that she knew wasn’t a growl. Its growls were much lower, much more intimidating. So it was… humming, instead? Was it trying to say ‘yes?’

“Okay, He Xuan!” She grinned. “I’ve made friends with everyone in this awful place who wants to be friends with me but you. Granted, that’s only Shijie, but still! The others don’t want to be friends with me since they’re scared of my brother. But when I thought about it, excluding when I’ve tried to escape and you’ve had to bring me back, you’ve always been weirdly nice to me. Don’t you hate me?”

The dragon huffed, puffing warm air from its nostrils to bathe her and the night air in warmth.

She laughed. It was an affectionate gesture, she thought. She stepped closer, and when the dragon didn’t draw away, she raised a hand. Carefully, it raised its snout until it bumped against her hand. She took that as enough of permission to run her hand over its scales.

The texture was surprising under her fingers. She expected them to be raggard and hard, like armor or the bark of a tree, but they were smooth and silky. It was said they were harder and more durable than any shield, but it hardly felt that way to her.

Its throat rumbled again, reminding Shi Qingxuan vaguely of a purring cat.

Huh.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” she said brightly. “I’m sorry for saying I hated you before, and I’m sorry I blamed you. It was easier to get mad at you than to get mad at my brother.”

The rumbling pitched lower, the dragon making its displeasure known.

She sighed. “I know, you probably hate him. It was cruel of him to bind you here. He has no respect for creatures of heaven like you, or even of fate itself. He’d pluck a god from heaven and drink their blood himself if he thought it’d get him what he wanted.”

The dragon made no noise at that, so she only continued.

“But I have no other family, and I know he does what he does out of love for me. So if you hate anyone, you should hate me. If I’d simply run off and surrendered to it when I learned what kind of fate was in store for me to save Ge the trouble, then you wouldn’t be stuck here.”

The unhappy rumbling returned, deeper this time. The dragon rose suddenly, causing Shi Qingxuan’s eyes to widen as she stepped back. It turned its head to her, and without warning, it plucked her up by the back of her collar. Her lantern dropped to the ground, and its light faded to plunge them into darkness.

She squeaked as her feet left the ground, but before she knew it, she was cradled in scaley claws. She heard the powerful beat of wings, felt the shifting of the air against her cheek, but she couldn’t catch sight of them. The ground left as they rose into the air, and with a terrified squeal even she would be embarrassed to admit to, she clung to the dragon’s claw for dear life.

But then they were landing again, the familiar creak of strained tiles like music to her ears. The dragon gently sat her down on the roof, and she was grateful it hadn’t tried to place her on her feet. She was sure they would buckle beneath her at the moment.

Glancing around, she realized she was just outside her window.

The dragon’s tail flicked behind it as it watched her with keen eyes, and she wondered what it wanted from her. “Should I… go to bed?”

A low rumble, one she thought might be affirmation.

She sighed and stood. “Well, thank you for escorting me to my room, then! I’m happy to have a new friend.”

The dragon was silent at that, but since it wasn’t growling, she counted it as a victory in the friendship department. With one last wave, she climbed into her room through the window and threw herself onto the bed.

It shouldn’t be much of a victory, but it felt… just a little bit less lonely, to have not one but two friends within the bars of her gilded cage.

-/-/-

Shi Qingxuan found herself staring at the gem inlaid into Ming Yi’s collar. She knew she’d seen the color from somewhere before, but she just couldn’t manage to put her finger on it.

A low, almost gruff noise from Ming Yi caught her attention again, and she snapped her gaze up to smile in apology, all while internally smacking herself. This was the only human friend she had at the moment, so she better not mess it up.

She was determined to treasure Ming Yi with every fiber of her being.

...In a totally platonic way. The fluttering of her chest would be going unaddressed for the foreseeable future, as Shi Qingxuan wasn’t about to risk the one tenuous relationship she had by suggesting something that might make Ming Yi uncomfortable. No matter how often they met, and how each meeting made her fantasize more and more about it—Shi Qingxuan would not be making the first move.

If Ming Yi wanted more of their relationship, Shi Qingxuan was enthusiastically willing, but it would have to be Ming Yi who took that step.

“I’m sorry, Shijie,” Shi Qingxuan said lightly. “What were you saying?”

“You’re drunk.”

She burst into laughter. “Maybe a little, maybe a little. But it’s fine, a few more drinks won’t hurt me!” She reached for her cup, only to hear a small noise of displeasure from Ming Yi. Before Shi Qingxuan could truly process it, a hand shot out and snatched her cup from her.

Shi Qingxuan watched with a hanging jaw as Ming Yi downed the entire thing. If she wasn’t mistaken, this was the first time Ming Yi had actually partaken of any of the alcohol she often brought with her when they met.

“Shijie?”

Ming Yi slammed the cup on the table, and already, her face was tinted red. “I—”

Her words were cut off by a hiccup, and with a mortified expression, Ming Yi slapped a hand over her mouth. Shi Qingxuan giggled and rose to unsteady feet. She offered Ming Yi a hand and a smile, and with only a slight roll of her eyes, Mign Yi let herself be pulled up to her feet.

“I didn’t realize Shijie couldn’t hold her alcohol,” Shi Qingxuan teased. She kept a light grip on Ming Yi as they walked out of the study and into the hall. She didn’t want Ming Yi to fall and hurt herself, since she had no idea what type of drunk she would be.

She was really being a lovely gentleman at the moment, she thought.

“I’m—” Her words were again cut off by a hiccup, and she clamped her mouth shut even as her cheeks flared even redder. Shi Qingxuan would hardly call Ming Yi “cute,” as the woman was likely to gut her for even thinking it even if they had built up a friendship over months, but really… This was a rare instance where Shi Qingxuan thought the word might apply.

Shi Qingxuan laughed, ignoring the glare it earned her. Ming Yi had yet to shrug off her grip as she carefully led them back to the servants’ quarters, so she knew it wasn’t true ire. “It’s alright, Shijie. I can talk enough for the both of us. Have I told you about the different meanings that are often associated with the flowers grown in the manor’s gardens? Well…”

Ming Yi listened quietly as Shi Qingxuan spoke, right up until the moment they breached the halls of the servants’ quarters and Shi Qingxuan stopped walking. Her eyes jumped from door to door, and with a shock, she realized… she didn’t know which room was Ming Yi’s.

That was when Ming Yi pulled away from her.

“I can—” A hiccup. “...Damn it.”

Shi Qingxuan hid her smile behind her fan. “It’s okay, Shijie. Just speak slowly.”

“I can… get back on my own… from here.” Each word was carefully announciated, and Shi Qingxuan felt a little bud of pride at the fact Ming Yi actually took her advice.

She looked Ming Yi up and down. She wasn’t swaying, and she wasn’t slurring her words. She seemed a little unsteady on her feet, but the flush of alcohol over her cheeks was already beginning to fade.

It was odd, really. It took Shi Qingxuan a few drinks to feel anything, and it took even longer for their effects to work their way out of her system, even with the tolerance she’d built up. She’d never known anyone who immediately became drunk before quickly sobering up.

But… who knew, maybe Ming Yi drank a bit before meeting her?

So Shi Qingxuan smiled and nodded. “Take care, Shijie. I’ll see you later!”

Ming Yi turned and left without any further pleasantries, but that didn’t bother Shi Qingxuan. She knew it was just the way Ming Yi was.

She left with a lopsided skip to her step and a merry hum to her voice. She only paused when something fell from her person to the floor, making a clear, unfamiliar sound against the wood. She stooped to retrieve it.

It was…

Smooth and a deep blue, the same hue as the gemstone set into Min Yi’s collar. The color faded towards one end, and its shape was almost a circle, but too imperfect and squared in places to really be considered one.

She knew this, she knew she did. She frowned at it, trying desperately to recall from where, until it hit her. Once, when she was young, she and Shi Wudu had snuck into the kitchens and watched as one of the cooks prepared fish. They’d handed her a glittering scale to gawk at.

This looked like that scale, only much, much larger and the deep ocean blue that belonged only to He Xuan.

She hadn’t seen He Xuan in days, and she certainly hadn’t worn this outfit while meeting the dragon. The scale could’ve only come from Ming Yi, so…

...It couldn’t be, could it?