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Xiao Xingchen sighed as he set down Shuanghua, happy to have a nice, warm inn to stay at for the night. It was chilly outside, the wind of autumn signalling the oncoming winter, and sleeping under the open sky just didn’t seem as appealing as it did during the warm months of spring and summer.
Song Lan’s footsteps made Xiao Xingchen glance up, smiling at his friend as he appeared in the doorway.
“The inn keeper will bring up some food for us soon,” Song Lan told the younger man, setting Fuxue down before taking a seat by the table.
He poured out two cups of tea, keeping one for himself and offering the other to his travel companion. Xiao Xingchen gracefully sat down beside Song Lan, gently accepting the tea cup and cradling it between his hands.
“That’s very kind of him, it’s so late already, I hope we haven’t caused a disturbance for the other guests,” Xiao Xingchen murmured.
Song Lan made a soft sound of agreement as he sipped his tea, eyes wandering over the other man’s face.
Xiao Xingchen never failed to look ethereal. Perhaps it was his time spent with Baoshan Sanren, perhaps it was just something innate to Xingchen himself, but his very presence seemed to glow. Song Lan had been drawn to the young cultivator immediately upon their first meeting, a chance encounter in a marketplace that led to the two of them forming an unbreakable bond. His eyes were always soft and kind, lips set in a gentle smile, long dark hair contrasting starkly against his white robes. People trusted Xiao Xingchen almost instinctively, and Song Lan couldn’t blame them. The young man was powerful with his sword, dancing upon the wind that breezed through the bamboo stalks, yet possessed a naivete about the world that made the older man feel protective.
“Song Lan?” the soft, questioning voice drew the other man from his ponderings.
He cleared his throat and quickly ducked his head, eyes averting to his tea cup and pretending to be engrossed in the tea leaves that floated about. Xiao Xingchen tilted his head and blinked in puzzlement.
“Is something the matter?” Xingchen asked, “You seem...preoccupied.”
Song Lan shook his head and took another sip of his tea.
“No, it’s nothing. Just thinking about what to do tomorrow,” he replied.
“Perhaps we can take a trip to the local marketplace,” Xiao Xingchen suggested, “Stock up on some supplies before we leave the city.”
“We have plenty of supplies, we don’t want to carry too much while traveling,” the older man pointed out.
Xiao Xingchen’s smile turned into a small pout, shoulders slumping a bit.
“But...I heard this city’s noodles were famous. I really wanted to try it before we leave,” he grumbled, circling the rim of his tea cup with one finger.
Song Lan refrained from rolling his eyes but he couldn’t quite suppress the chuckle that left his lips.
“Oh, so that’s it. You just wanted to go and eat the food,” he teased.
Xiao Xingchen’s cheeks tinted pink as he realized his true intentions for wanting to visit the market had been revealed. He grabbed his tea cup and took a big gulp, forgetting that the drink was still quite hot. He yelped and covered his mouth with one hand, blinking away tears at the sting on his tongue.
“Xiao Xingchen!” Song Lan cried out, quickly moving beside his friend and patting him on the back like that would help sooth the burn.
The younger man whimpered but stubbornly took a few deep breaths, trying to breathe through the pain.
“Open your mouth, let me see if you got burned,” Song Lan said once Xiao Xingchen seemed to have calmed down a bit.
Xingchen did as told, looking embarrassed, face flushed bright red.
“Hm...it looks ok. Does it hurt a lot?,” the older man asked, “I can go get some cold water for you.”
Xiao Xingchen shook his head and swallowed a few times.
“No, I think I’m ok. It just...took me by surprise.”
Song Lan sighed and sat back down in his own spot. He refilled Xiao Xingchen’s tea cup, but this time he blew over the top to help it cool down first before handing it to his companion.
“Tea should always be sipped, never drunk in a rush.”
Xiao Xingchen huffed as he accepted his cup back.
“I know, it was an accident. But...but maybe we can go to the marketplace tomorrow for some medicine, just in case one of us does get burned in the future?” He asked hopefully.
Song Lan couldn’t help laughing at Xiao Xingchen’s persistence on going to the market.
“All right, we’ll go to the market tomorrow. But no wandering off, stick close to me,” he instructed.
Xiao Xingchen nodded contently, his smile back on his face and Song Lan was happy to indulge his friend if it made him this happy.
A knock at their door made both men look up.
“Um...sirs? I brought your food,” a young girl’s voice floated in, “My father instructed me to bring it up to you.”
Song Lan got up and walked over, opening the doors to reveal a maiden holding a tray with several dishes on it.
“Thank you for bringing it up, sorry for the bother,” the older man said apologetically as the girl walked in, setting the dishes onto the table one by one.
“Oh, no bother,” she answered cheerfully.
She eyed the two of them with curiosity, looking around the room. Her eyes landed on Xiao Xingchen’s Shuanghua, widening with interest.
“My father said you’re traveling cultivators, is that true?” The girl asked, sounding excited.
Xiao Xingchen smiled at her and nodded.
“Yes, thank you for letting us stay at your inn for the night. We really appreciate it,” the young man said politely.
The girl waved off his thanks, looking between Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen.
“Hm...you DO look different than regular people. Is it hard to be a cultivator?” She inquired.
Song Lan sat down again, keeping quiet since Xiao Xingchen tended to be better at interacting with others.
“It takes dedication and self-discipline,” Xingchen explained, “And many, many years of practice.”
“How many years have you been practicing?” The girl asked.
Xiao Xingchen smiled as he recalled the time he spent on the mountain with Baoshan Sanren, the long days of sword training, meditation, but also the fun times of playing around with the other disciples.
“Many,” he told her.
“Xiao Mei! Stop bothering our guests,” a stern voice called out suddenly from the doorway.
A middle-aged man appeared and bowed to the two men before taking the young girl by the arm and tugging her towards the door.
“I’m so sorry, my daughter is very curious and she insisted on bringing you your food when she found out you were cultivators,” the innkeeper said, looking apologetic, “Xiao Mei, you shouldn’t pry into other people’s business, especially not customers.”
Xiao Mei pouted and looked ready to talk back but her father gave her a glare and she huffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest grumpily.
Xiao Xingchen looked amused and shook his head.
“It’s quite alright, no bother. She’s a very bright and sweet girl,” he told her father placatingly.
The father herded his daughter out of the room, closing the door behind them with a final apology, bidding them a good night.
After a pause, the younger cultivator laughed quietly to himself before turning to his friend.
“I didn’t realize until I left the mountain that cultivators were of such fascination to people in the world,” he mused.
Song Lan nodded as he passed Xiao Xingchen a pair of chopsticks, motioning for him to sit and eat.
“I suppose. People just don’t really understand, that’s all. Spirits, ghosts, the supernatural is difficult to grasp sometimes, and it frightens people because they don’t know.”
Xiao Xingchen picked up his bowl of rice and started to eat, making soft noises of appreciation as he tried each dish. He adored getting to try new foods during his travels, the different flavours, ingredients, cooking styles, so many new things he had never had a chance to try before. Song Lan watched his friend eat, clearly eager to try everything but attempting to maintain his graceful demeanor and not simply wolf everything down. He would never admit it but he took great joy in observing Xiao Xingchen try new things, his expressions and reactions were always very amusing and often childlike in innocence.
“Slow down, you’ll upset your stomach if you eat too quickly,” he advised. He picked up a piece of stir fried meat and gently placed it in Xingchen’s bowl, earning himself a grateful smile.
“This is really good, the flavour is just perfect. I wonder if they might teach me how to make it,” the younger man wondered.
Song Lan swallowed his food before answering, “And where exactly would you cook, even if they did teach you? We don’t exactly have a kitchen.”
“Well, you never know,” Xingchen replied, “Maybe someday we’ll settle down somewhere, and then one of us will need to know how to cook.”
He paused, then suddenly seemed to think of something, looking curiously at his older friend.
“Wait, do you know how to cook, Zichen? Did you cook at Baixue Temple?”
Song Lan shook his head, “No, the other disciples who weren’t cultivators cooked, we just focused on training.”
“Hmm,” Xiao Xingchen commented wistfully, “That’s too bad. I would have liked to try your cooking, Zichen.”
They two kept eating, slowly finishing their meal. Song Lan thought about Xingchen’s words, almost wishing he did know how to cook just so he could cook for his friend.
As they placed their empty bowls on the table, Xiao Xingchen gave Song Lan a bright smile.
“If I learned to cook, you have to promise you’ll try everything I make, Zichen. Deal?”
Song Lan gave his companion a skeptical look, picturing the sort of dishes Xingchen might come up with.
“I fear you might purposely make awful things just to make me eat them,” he teased.
Xiao Xingchen laughed, his voice clear and soft like a bell in the quiet evening.
“I would never do that to you! I would make delicious food for you, that way we’d never be hungry. Maybe tomorrow at the market we can buy some ingredients and ask the innkeeper to teach me a dish?”
The idea of eating a dish Xiao Xingchen cooked just for him made Song Lan inexplicably happy. He had no doubt he would enjoy it, regardless of the taste, although he kept the thought to himself.
“How long do you plan on staying here, then?” He asked instead.
Xiao Xingchen tapped a finger against his lip, “Mm...maybe another day? We’re not in a rush to be anywhere, right? There has been no rumours of any spirits around, we can afford to stay a bit, can’t we?”
Song Lan sighed as he started to clear the table, placing the now-empty dishes back onto the tray and setting it in the hallway for the innkeeper to pick up tomorrow.
“We shouldn’t waste time. There’s always more people who need our help somewhere.”
The younger cultivator slowly nodded in agreement although his expression showed his reluctance.
“I guess you’re right, but someday we’ll find a place of our own, right Zichen? Our own sect, somewhere beautiful like the Gusu Lan Clan’s Cloud Recesses, or maybe like Lotus Pier. They’re all so unique,” Xingchen commented as he moved towards one of the beds to prepare for sleep.
“Do you prefer the strictness of the Gusu Lan Clan or the more relaxed training of the Yunmen Jiang Clan?” Song Lan asked as he sat down on his own bed, watching Xiao Xingchen pull out his hair piece and set it beside his pillow.
“Hmm...I heard that the Gusu Lan Clan has over three thousand rules, perhaps that’s too many for me to follow,” the younger man replied, “It feels too...stifling.”
Song Lan nodded, he couldn’t really see Xiao Xingchen trying to conform to such a strict environment either. The younger man was often whimsical, a stark contrast to people like Lan Wangji or Lan Xichen of the Gusu Lan Clan. Song Lan had a feeling when they do start their own sect, laying down the rules and trying to get their disciples to follow them would come down to him, Xiao Xingchen was simply much too soft-hearted to ever dole out punishment for rule-breaking.
“Zichen?”
“Hm?”
Xiao Xingchen had removed his outer robe and had already climbed onto his bed, ducking under the covers. He looked over at his older friend, putting on his best pleading expression.
“Can we sleep in tomorrow? Just for a bit?”
Song Lan didn’t have the heart to deny Xingchen’s request, knowing that the younger man was probably quite exhausted as they had been traveling non-stop for weeks.
“Sure. We’ll go to the market at noon.”
Xiao Xingchen made a happy noise before laying down with a contented sigh.
“Thank you, Zichen. Good night."
The older cultivator shook his head at the adorable image his companion made, cuddled under the covers, soft smile on his face, expression serene and at peace.
“Good night, Xingchen.”
--END--