Work Text:
Shi Wudu has many shrines that have been built in his honor, but his favorite is the one in Yunmeng. It’s hidden in a wet, overgrown grove and there are cracks in the stone from lack of attention, but Shi Wudu loves it all the same.
Some days, like today, he descends from the Upper Court and their ridiculous and petty affairs to sit on the edge of the roof, watching the fog roll across Yunmeng’s largest lake. He wills himself invisible to all but a select few, all but Jiang Cheng and the little Jin Ling, and breathes in the warm, humid air.
If he concentrates, just a little, he remembers how it feels to be human again. If he closes his eyes, memories of late autumn and sitting under the golden leaves of a gingko tree with his brother surface, stirring something warm and nostalgic within him. There’s one afternoon in particular that rises faster than the others, an afternoon when Shi Qingxuan was quite young, and Shi Wudu had gifted him his first fan. He had made a promise to Shi Qingxuan then, a promise that he continues to maintain even hundreds of years later.
To Shi Wudu, family is everything.
A child’s laugh, bright and carefree, rises up to the roof and Shi Wudu opens one eye, spying a toddler draped in yellow robes and purple trim squatting in the grass next to the shrine.
Shi Wudu’s mouth pulls up into an amused grin and he slides off of the roof, landing on the ground with a quiet thud and a puff of dust that quickly settles back down. “Ling-er,” he says as he squats down next to the child. “What are you looking at?”
“Bug!”
Shi Wudu follows Jin Ling’s gaze and finds himself staring into a patch of long grass. He does not see any insects. “What kind of bug?”
Little Jin Ling frowns. He squints at the long, wild grass surrounding them, leaning forward until his nose brushes against the tallest blades.
Shi Wudu reaches into the grass, and summons a ball of water the size of the bell resting on Jin Ling's belt. With his palm facing the ground so Jin Ling cannot see, he wills it into the shape of a large beetle. "Did it look like this, Ling-er?" He flips his hand palm-up, and displays the beetle made of water.
Jin Ling shrieks in delight at the sight. "Bug!!"
"Correct," Shi Wudu says, continuing to keep his hand outstretched in front of Jin Ling. "This is a beetle. Would you like to touch it?"
Jin Ling hops forward on his two little legs. He brings his face close to Shi Wudu's palm, and reaches forward with a tiny fist, index finger outstretched. "Little beetle," he sings. "Little, little beetle. Blue, blue, blue beetle. Shui-ge's pretty beetle!"
Jin Ling brings the top of his finger close to the beetle — so, so close he almost touches it — then hesitates, looking up at Shi Wudu with a questioning gaze.
Shi Wudu grins. "Go ahead, Ling-er. Shui-ge's bugs are resilient."
"Resilient?" Jin Ling repeats. He pokes the bug with his finger, gasping with surprise and delight as he meets water. He scoots closer, bringing his face as close to Shi Wudu's hand as he can manage. He pokes it again, eyes wide.
"Resilient. Strong. Flexible. Be careful with other insects, Ling-er, only Shui-ge's are special."
Jin Ling makes a sound of understanding and pokes the beetle again, giggling as his finger goes through it and presses against Shi Wudu's palm. "Strong beetle," he says in a sing-song voice. "Pretty, little beetle. Resilient, Shui-ge beetle! Jiujiu is a beetle!"
Shi Wudu tilts his head at that. "What about your Jiujiu?"
"Jiujiu is strong!" Jin Ling says. "Jiujiu is strong and special and…" He pauses for a moment, nose scrunched as he thinks hard. "Resilient!! Jiujiu is Shui-ge's special beetle."
"I am not a beetle," comes Jiang Cheng's voice from down the path.
Shi Wudu glances up as he approaches. Jin Ling also turns toward him, face lighting up at the sight of his uncle.
“Perhaps not. But you are mine.”
Jiang Cheng’s eye roll is fond and, try as he might, he cannot hide the amused smile that threatens to cross his face. “Enough of that,” he chides Shi Wudu before squatting to scoop Jin Ling into his arms. Jin Ling squeals in surprise, but quickly relaxes into his uncle’s arms. “Lunch time, A-ling. Shui-ge’s beetles can wait.”
Shi Wudu stands with him, pulling his fan from his sleeve and bringing it up to cover the lower half of his face. “Shui-ge’s beetles shall wait,” he says with a dramatized sigh and a flutter of his fan. “But Shui-ge cannot.”
Jiang Cheng hoists Jin Ling onto his hip. He fixes Shi Wudu with a hard stare that would leave Shi Wudu breathless, if gods were capable of that sort of thing. “Keep playing around and Jin Ling and I will eat alone.”
“Is that an invitation to join you, Sandu Shengshou?”
“Figure it out yourself, Lord Water Master.”