Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

On the day they’re supposed to move, it rains.

It’s what wakes Shi Qingxuan up from their restless sleep. Their house is a little shabby, but it usually holds its own against the elements so they’re not really that worried. Xie Lian had helped patch up all the leaks a few months ago, back when it was still winter and everything was cold and miserable.

Once, winter was Shi Qingxuan’s favourite season— or, well, all of them were their favourite but for different reasons. They liked the cold weather because it made their godly breath look like smoke, as if they could breathe fire. They would call, “Hey, Ming-xiong, look at this” and breathe out as if they were performing the greatest magic in the world. Ming Yi would roll his eyes but Shi Qingxuan would assume he secretly appreciated it because he was still here, after all.

There were other reasons to like the cold too, but now it all seems futile. It aches now, making their mortal bones feel as if they had been crushed and reformed again but with several pieces missing so that the bone chafes with every shaking step. The warmth is much kinder to them.

When they wake up this morning, Shi Qingxuan is perfectly warm despite the storm that rages outside. 

He Xuan always wakes before them. It’s almost as if he doesn’t sleep but they’ve been assured he does. Xie Lian says it too— says that when he visits Nether Water Manor sometimes, the door won’t open for weeks— so it must be true. Shi Qingxuan wonders if they haven't seen it because they’re not trusted enough, or whether it’s because He Xuan doesn’t want to miss a thing.

(Maybe once they could have thought that without flushing but Shi Qingxuan isn’t the person they used to be. Pausing his hand from where it’s half-hidden in their hair, He Xuan looks down at them, the slightest hint of worry on his features as their face turns a tomato red.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, and Shi Qingxuan buries their face into his chest further, hoping to hide within the thick black robes and heavy blankets surrounding them. The hand continues but moves further down, cupping their jaw instead, fingers resting on the nape of their neck.)

He Xuan is only so soft like this in the mornings. In the light of day, it’s as if he feels exposed in all the sunlight, shying away from both giving and receiving affection. He would be happier if he could work during the days and keep the nights for just them; the quiet time where they can be together endlessly without them having to hide.

Shi Qingxuan wonders when they will see his true self, or if they will see it at all. Black Water Sinking Ships is a man who has lived on by hiding in plain sight; always there but never truly. It doesn’t hurt like Shi Qingxuan thinks it should, the lack of transparency, but instead it makes them long for more. Makes them want to break him down and admire each piece of him, like what was once done to them, even if it was in a far different context.

But Shi Qingxuan says none of this. They sigh, their previous embarrassment forgotten as they stretch out, feet peering out from under the blanket. They grin up at He Xuan, who looks away like the sight is too much for the moment but turning back again seconds later, dark eyes impossibly soft. His hands drop away from their face, though come to rest on their arms; it’s warm, toasty even, unlike his usual chill. It seems today he’s stayed the entire night.

The thought makes Shi Qingxuan giddy.

“Nothing,” Shi Qingxuan replies to his earlier question. “Good morning.”

And then they’re out of his arms the next moment, even if there was nothing more they wanted to do than lie there forever, content and warm. They begin dressing again, fixing up their crinkled robes, disorderly from sleep, though they make no attempt to sort through their long hair, even if He Xuan’s fingers probably combed through the most of it.

“Are you hungry?” Shi Qingxuan asks, because He Xuan is looking at them and they don’t know what else to do. Something anxious fills their throat, the same feeling that always occurs in the daylight, when they feel like they’ve taken something they shouldn’t. Because of this, it takes a moment for their words to catch up on them. “Ah, ghosts don’t need to eat, do they?” They say to themselves, but they serve up another portion too, because they know He Xuan likes to eat.

By the time they’ve settled down at the table, He Xuan has already tidied up the remnants of the space. The bed is made and the curtains have been open, lighting the space up much more. Shi Qingxuan chatters about nothing as they scarf down the meal, their nerves showing in their too-loud laugh and shaking hands. When they go to take their bowls away, the sound of them knocking together follows them all the way back to the kitchen.

They return to see He Xuan’s gently worried frown again. Ah, they’ve never been able to hide from him.

“You’re nervous.” He says, a simple fact. He looks comfortable where he’s sat, not a hint of fear in him. Shi Qingxuan wishes they could be put together like that, wishes they could be composed all the time. But then they think of how their best moments with friends have come from them being comfortable enough to make a fool of themselves and decide it's a restraint they don’t need.

“A little.” Shi Qingxuan replies. “It’s a big change… I’ve grown used to this village.”

Maybe He Xuan isn’t nervous because he’s used to taking on new roles, resuming the place of a god or a hungry, overworked land worker or an impatient noblewoman who has a whole household of servants at her beck and call. Shi Qingxuan doesn’t have that, and any confidence they once had was stripped from them alongside their godhood. They were confident because they knew they could defend themselves and were well-liked enough to get away with most of the embarrassing things they did. Now, they are disregarded as another stray beggar on the streets and, if they say the wrong thing, it could get them killed.

They’re mortal now, and their fears are much more potent.

“And we’ll be further away from His Highness,” Shi Qingxuan adds, supplying another one of their worries. Xie Lian had been endlessly helpful over the past few years, not only with doing what he could against the Reverend but also supplying them with a house and work that wasn’t too strenuous, more focused on the delicate work of their hands than requiring movement. He has been accommodating, when most others dropped them, so to leave him when he needs it… It feels almost like a betrayal. “Ah, I shouldn’t have moved. He’s going to be so lonely now and-”

“We can visit him.” He Xuan interrupts before Shi Qingxuan can lose themselves in their regrets. “It’ll be easier too. We can set up an array, be there and back in seconds-” He Xuan thinks to himself for a moment before saying- “You could invite him over, so he comes to us. An easy way to get him out of that shrine of his, or remove him from all the action of Ghost City.”

Shi Qingxuan nods, taking it in. Xie Lian had been running Ghost City in Hua Cheng’s stead, sharing the workload with He Xuan, who was more than happy to use this to cut down his debt. The Ghost City functions mostly on its own, the chaos of it coming naturally, though there have been a few altercations that Xie Lian or He Xuan have been made to deal with. 

Xie Lian mostly stays in Ghost City now, finding some comfort in a place that reminds him of his beloved. But on the days where he’s back in Puqi, making an honest living like the common people, He Xuan is called out there instead, meaning he disappears for hours at a time.

It’s He Xuan’s turn now, so him having stayed the night means Ghost City must have been reasonably peaceful. Shi Qingxuan knows it’s only a short while before the other shoe drops, but they’re content to enjoy the company now, clinging to his side as they pass through the Distance-Shortening array.

On the other side, everything looks exactly as Shi Qingxuan expected, yet they can’t help but let out an awed sound at the sight of it. The house has one story but it’s by no means small; there’s a barn not too far away, for where the animals used to stay when the previous owners were young and spritely, and a shed or three scattered about, one by the lake, one by the house, and one by the forest. There’s a garden too, untamed by the months left alone. He Xuan may have fully prepared the house, doing all the cleaning and furniture moving, but the garden has been left untouched, except for the places where flowers had begun to crowd the front door, blocking the entrance.

Shi Qingxuan walks down the warn-in stone path— their walking stick in one hand and He Xuan’s arm clenched in the other— and they can’t keep the grin off their face.

The air here smells like rain, like their previous house had, but also earth, the thick scent of mud and pine trees lingering even if it no longer pours. They’re not too far off from the sea now, He Xuan had told them, so that explains the slight presence of salt in the air. 

He Xuan had worried, when he told them this, that being by the sea would be bad for them. There are many storms around here, full with thunder and lightning and almost torrential downpours. He had cautioned about their leg, because the rain isn’t good for things like this, but Shi Qingxuan had laughed and said, “There’s nothing like suffering for a little serenity.” and that had been that.

As they get closer to the house, they see how much of a mess the garden really is. Climbers have taken hostage most of the wooden walls, entangling themselves with the roofing. Bushes that were once trimmed below windows have grown large, their pointed bristles making Shi Qingxuan ache before they’ve even started tending this place.

“When I said I wanted to try my hand at gardening, you really didn’t back down, huh?” Shi Qingxuan laughs. He Xuan looks the slightest bit apologetic, or they think he does at least.

“I can have someone help you with it.” He offers. “It’s a tad overgrown.”

Shi Qingxuan squashes the urge to say, “I want to do it with you. I’d ask, if I knew you’d agree.”

“A little?” They laugh instead, and turn their gaze back to the lake. It’s massive really, taking up most of the space in front of the house. There’s a little pier off at the side, missing a few of the wooden panels, though it looks like an easy fix. Beside that is a small orchard, a little forest of lychee and peach trees, with the occasional loquat mixed in within them. Many of the fruits are scattered along the floor now, ripped apart by the previous night’s weather. A few of the forest animals have come forward to get their fill, fleeing when they see people have arrived. “Do you think the lake has fish in it?” 

“Probably.” He Xuan replies. “There’ll at least be frogs.”

“Frogs!” Shi Qingxuan cheers, suitably excited. “Oh, we’ll be able to go frog catching! Whoever catches the biggest one or the cutest one-”

“Or the roundest one-” He Xuan cuts in, like an intellectual.

“Or the roundest one!” Shi Qingxuan agrees. “They will win!”

“What’s the prize?” He Xuan asks.

Shi Qingxuan blinks. “You want to catch a frog right now?”

Then He Xuan does that thing again— where he blinks, and Shi Qingxuan feels like they’ve done something wrong. The seconds pass and he doesn’t reply, so they laugh awkwardly and pull up some of their earlier excitement.

If their tone is a little thin as they say, “Let’s go in! I want to see the inside”, neither of them say a thing.

*

The inside of the house is clean, almost scarily so. The floors shine in a way they previously probably hadn’t in years. He Xuan had said that the house was tidy but they hadn’t expected it to be to this extent.

For a moment, they entertain the idea of He Xuan cleaning it himself. Him tying back his sleeves and putting up his hair so nothing would get in his way. Of him looking around the room and planning on what goes where, what looks best with the lighting from the window, where this flower pot should go-

They know He Xuan probably ordered someone else to do it but the image is one that puts a smile on their face nonetheless. He Xuan casts a pleased glance in their direction when he notices their reaction, though they don’t see it as they rush from room to room to take it all in.

They pick out very quickly which room they want to stay in. There’s enough space for three bedrooms in the house and they choose the one towards the back; they open the window to look out over the fields where the animals would have roamed, letting in all the fresh air. It’s all fenced in, though it has rotted slightly, many of the fences having collapsed. It won’t take long to fix up once they have the wood for it and, if the forest surrounding means anything, that shouldn’t be too difficult of a task.

The room itself is barren of most things that would make it homely. Shi Qingxuan carries all of their trinkets within a Qiankun bag, and they place it on a dresser to officially claim the space as their own. They make a note to unpack later, already imagining the place when it’s decorated all nicely. Maybe they could get a bookcase in here too...

It’s mostly made of light colours, which Shi Qingxuan likes. The walls are a warm yellow, emphasised by the bright sun shining through the window. Similarly as spotless as the rest of the house, the floor looks to be made of pine too, bright enough to sparkle. There’s an incense burner by the bed, looking as though it had been left by the previous owners, if the marks and scratches indicated anything, and hadn’t been removed. When Shi Qingxuan investigates, they find it smells like something sweet, though they don’t quite recognise the scent.

They leave the room again, looking for He Xuan to ask about it, but are quickly distracted by the prospect of living together.

“Do you like this one?” Shi Qingxuan asks, dragging He Xuan back with them. “You can see the fields! And the sunrise, I think. Very pretty.”

“It’s good.” He Xuan nods. Shi Qingxuan beams.

“Look,” They say, climbing under the sheets. “The bed is comfy too. Though it’s a bit small so we’ll have to squish!”

He Xuan looks at them then, a funny look in his eye. “We’re both staying in here?” He asks.

“Of course!” Shi Qingxuan says, thinking nothing of it. ‘Of course’, they say because it’s obvious to them; if they could pick between being in He Xuan’s arms and not being there, of course, they would pick the former. Then, it dawns on them that He Xuan might not want to, that he might have been sleeping with them in their old house because there wasn’t much space to sleep anywhere else. They quickly amend, “Only if you want to. You can stay in another room, haha.”

He Xuan slides the door closed behind them, and Shi Qingxuan takes this as an agreement.

The rest of the day is spent either lounging or exploring. All too often now, Shi Qingxuan finds themselves feeling excessively tired. Whether it’s because their stamina isn’t what it used to be when they were a god or because aching all the time takes its necessary toll, they find themselves sleeping a lot more, even if they resent themselves for it.

Still, it’s too difficult to feel begrudging when He Xuan indulges them so.

“Can we stay here?” Shi Qingxuan asks, from where they’ve begun clinging onto He Xuan’s side like they used to when they’d nap together. “We have time later to visit the village, so we can stay here and sleep now!”

He Xuan laughs, the warm air tickling the top of Shi Qingxuan’s head. They fight a shiver, though it’s not from the cold. “Sure we can.” He agrees. “We can meet them whenever you want.”

“Good.” Shi Qingxuan says. “Because I think the walk back will kill me.”

He Xuan hums, which usually means he’s thinking. Shi Qingxuan closes their eyes and waits. Eventually, they forget what they were waiting for and let themselves drift away, only to push themselves upright a few hours later and wonder how they could have possibly fallen asleep.

Before Shi Qingxuan could further inquire into what He Xuan wanted to say, they notice that the space next to them is empty and decently cool. It seems like He Xuan’s been gone a while and they can’t help the sigh that escapes.

They remain a few more moments, just sitting and staring around their room as they slowly come to comprehension. When they stand, it comes with a series of cracks as they stretch their arms and neck, and then their leg as best as they can. Grabbing their walking stick, they leave their room to head out of the back door into the overgrown garden. There’s a little place that’s been maintained well enough to sit in, though that’s probably because the only plants growing there are small weeds that are easily plucked. A wooden bench sits in the middle, close enough to the wall that Shi Qingxuan can rest against it.

So they sit and take in the scenery, planning out what they’ll tackle first. Most sections have weeds taking up the entirety of the space, the flowers drowned so far below that Shi Qingxuan would have to dig through to see them any colour other than green. Those places will be fun to rearrange, especially since they’ll probably be able to choose lots of things to plant there. They think about all the vegetables they’d grow— turnips, cabbages, all kinds of beans. Maybe leeks, though no aubergines; they never did like the taste— only to be interrupted with a shout.

“Qingxuan!” He Xuan calls, his voice loud enough to echo through the house slightly, though the tone isn’t exactly worried. It sounds more as if it’s trying to grab their attention.

“Out here!” They reply, similarly loud. Footsteps sound as someone approaches, and He Xuan peers out of the door moments later. Shi Qingxuan waves.

“I thought you were in Ghost City.” They explain, pulling up a pout. “You left me all alone.”

“I figured you’d be hungry.” He Xuan says, handing over a bowl. It smells delicious so Shi Qingxuan digs right in, moving over between bites as He Xuan nudges at their thigh. “Good?”

“Great!” They reply. “I hadn’t realised how hungry I was… Being mortal really is strange sometimes. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.” They laugh, and up comes He Xuan’s usual frown whenever they mention their mortality.

They fight back a sigh. It seems whatever they say today they step on some unknown nerve. This time, they don’t let it upset them, nudging He Xuan’s shoulder instead and gesturing in a random direction towards the flowers with their chopsticks.

“I’m going to plant bean sprouts there.” They say decisively. They hadn’t even known that before they said it.

He Xuan hums again, a shorter tone, before saying, “Beans are good.”

Shi Qingxuan smiles and begins rambling about further plans, only to trail off when their stomach growls again. They finish off their meals with minimal chatter, both too hungry to bother with maintaining a conversation. It doesn’t take long for their bowls to be empty. With them being so quiet, nature starts to accompany them, obviously used to people sitting quietly in the garden, though clever enough not to draw too close. Birds hop through the undergrowth, whilst butterflies and bees stop and start on random flowers.

A moment passes, and then two, and then-

“Do you like it here?”

“Do you think Crimson- Ah, no, you go!”

They both speak at the same time. Shi Qingxuan lets out a laugh and lets He Xuan speak first.

“Do you like it here?” He repeats. Shi Qingxuan nods.

“I do! Though I think I’d like anywhere with you.” They reply, and then realise what they confessed to. Suddenly overcome with what they said, they turn away and stretch their leg out in the sun, tilting their head back to look at the sky. Their neck feels so hot, it’s as if they’re on fire, but they don’t complain of it; their rosy cheeks and flushed ears feel similarly. “It’s warm here. Warmer than it was before.”

“Good.”

Shi Qingxuan turns back to the butterflies. “Do you think Crimson Rain will come back soon?”

“Yes.” He Xuan responds immediately. “Maybe not soon. But he will come back.” He thinks for a second before adding, “He’ll want to come and terrorise me again, I’m sure.” He Xuan jokes, and he sounds sure of it too.

And because it’s He Xuan— He Xuan — they laugh loudly, letting it vibrate through the air.

“Don’t tell me you’re not really friends.” Shi Qingxuan says, still giggling. Their shoulders shake with it, as if they can’t keep it all in. “His Highness says you’re friends so it must be true.”

“His Highness tells you not to call him that but I see you pick and choose which parts you listen to.” Another joke! In such a short amount of time! This time, Shi Qingxuan can’t help but let their laughter bubble over, leaning into He Xuan for support.

He stills for a moment, and Shi Qingxuan lets their joy recede into something simmering under the surface instead, bubbling and ready to spill over. But then they blink, and the moment is gone.

“Do you want anything to drink?” He Xuan asks, and Shi Qingxuan nods, comfortable in much more familiar territory. It feels as if they’ve swum across a storming ocean, with how disoriented they are. One moment everything’s fine and the next they’ve capsized, lost in foreign waters, only to wash up on a random shore.

“Who do you take me for?” Shi Qingxuan replies, the bite of ‘Don’t you remember how I ascended?’ on their tongue before they shut their mouth, almost audibly. He Xuan sees none of their dilemma, as he heads back inside to find something alcoholic, using the excuse of a celebration. 

They pass the afternoon like that, sitting outside together, watching as the sun slowly drifts further into the clouds. The bird cries slowly quieten as one world fades away into another, the sounds of bugs chirping and the buzzing of fireflies’ wings taking over as twilight comes and goes.

And then it all comes to an end. A call comes through the Communication array, of course; an urgent matter that just can’t wait, my lord, your presence is required at your earliest convenience. You see-

Shi Qingxuan thinks there’s nothing convenient about He Xuan leaving right now at all, but they hold their tongue, keeping a smile on their face as they watch He Xuan disappear through the array he just drew on their wall.

Then they slump, finding no use in keeping up the act. A butterfly, one of the last few still present under the darkening sky, flutters its way over to them, landing on their knuckles. Its wings flap as if it’s blinking at them, most likely wondering why this one isn’t the same as the other flowers. 

“Ah, what should I do?” They ask rhetorically. A second passes and no answer comes. Of course. It’s a butterfly. They laugh at themselves, a little self-deprecating, and the butterfly flies away at the harshness of it.

They linger outside for a while longer, before struggling to their feet, their legs aching from lack of use. Their legs will ache no matter what they do, so they take no notice as they head inside again, cleaning up their dishes as they go.

They head off to bed soon after that, too tired to do much else.

*

Later, when He Xuan returns, Shi Qingxuan is lying in bed wide awake. It already feels like they've slept for years, so they sit and stare at the ceiling, thinking things through whilst their head slowly throbs.

As they watch the moon slowly trickle by, they wait and wait until he finally returns. They’re not sure how much time passes like that, but something in them is finally put to rest when they hear the soft footsteps— always soft, as if he doesn’t dare make too much sound— approaching.

He Xuan enters quietly, though the tense line of his shoulders fades into something more relaxed when he notices Shi Qingxuan looking at him, very much awake.

“Did I wake you?” He asks. His tone is gentle; he’s always gentle here, in the night time, like a little firefly. Just floating in the palm of their hands, a small beacon of light.

“No, I was waiting for you.” Shi Qingxuan answers, and then amends. “I already slept but I got bored without you here to bother.”

“You don’t bother me.” He Xuan says. Shi Qingxuan blinks, and then breaks into a wide smile. Even He Xuan can’t look away, only giving back a small smile too.

Ah , Shi Qingxuan sighs internally, a happy little thing. Nighttimes .

“Well, let me not-bother you some more then.” They say, patting the space next to them. “Get in, I wanna talk to you.”

So He Xuan gets in, and prepares to listen.

He’s warm. Or, well, his robes are, the heat of Ghost City clinging to him even if it’s been minutes since he left. The place feels sweltering sometimes, especially now that Hua Cheng isn’t there tending it, as if it decided to try and boil over now that nobody’s watching the pot. 

But his skin is cold as always, like the bottom of the ocean. His hands cup their cheek as they lie side by side, just looking at each other. The cold makes them shiver, but they put their hand on top of He Xuan’s as he goes to move away.

For a few moments, they forget how to talk as they just stare. He Xuan’s eyes look pretty like this, up close enough that they can count every eyelash, can see every small speck of gold in his eyes revealed by the silver light of the moon. 

Then, He Xuan laughs, and Shi Qingxuan feels their heart stop. Their eyes go a little wide as they hold their breath.

“What?” He Xuan says. The smile still remains.

“He-xiong, you must know how beautiful you are.”

When He Xuan flushes again, it’s so reminiscent of how Ming Yi used to react that they almost feel like they’re on familiar territory. It comes so simple to them, to step into their old persona of confidence and wealth, as they lean into his space, peering up at him as they go to pinch his cheeks.

“Look! You’re bright red, so cute, aiyaa!” They tease, grinning further when He Xuan doesn’t pull away like Ming Yi would have, just letting it happen with an unreadable look on his face. 

“You’re the spectacular one.” He murmurs. They feel their breath catch, and they hold it for one second, two, before it comes out as a laugh, leaving them to feel as if they’re floating. 

“Xuan-er…” They reply, a little breathless. “Why do you speak so sincerely? I can’t look at you.”

“Then you should look at the stars.” He replies. Shi Qingxuan nods, ignoring the knot in their throat, as they turn towards the window, sitting up as He Xuan presses against their back. “When I—” An uncharacteristic pause makes Shi Qingxuan freeze— “When I was Ming Yi, I’d always used to think that looking at you was like looking at the night sky.”

“You’re pretty eyes carved into crescent moons when you smiled. Your robes were the endless sea of stars, always glowing. Never dull. You always had this pull to you… But you were unobtainable. The heavens may tower over earth but the sun and the moon and everything worth staying for was even further away.”

“He-xiong…” They say. It echoes in their head: always there but never truly, always there but never truly.

“You were untouchable. I wanted you without knowing it, the way that someone only misses the moon once you can no longer see it."

“You had me.” Shi Qingxuan argues. “You had me- All you had to do was say.”

“He had you.” He Xuan corrects gently. “If you had seen Black Water Sinking Ships on one of your excursions, you would have called for backup. But with Ming Yi, you were kind. Comfortable. Like a fragment had crash-landed onto my pretty earth.”

Shi Qingxuan reaches back and takes He Xuan’s hand. Neither of them look at each other.

“You have me now.” They promise. They look back out to the sky, where the sea of blues and purples sparkle with scattered light, glowing like the jewels Shi Qingxuan used to decorate themselves in. Then they look closer, seeing how the sky melts away into tall trees, into endless hills, reflecting back in puddles of water. “If I was the stars, then you would be there to meet me at the horizon. Whether it is the earth or the sea… It was still you there with me.”

For a moment, neither of them say anything. The words hide themselves under Shi Qingxuan’s tongue, nothing coming out no matter how much they want to declare.

Then: 

“Let’s stargaze, hm?” He Xuan asks, his voice so quiet that Shi Qingxuan has to strain to hear it. “We can find somewhere dry.”

“We’ll watch the sunrise.” Shi Qingxuan says, and follows him out into the world.

(Whilst Shi Qingxuan is caught up in the stars, He Xuan observes them, taking in every detail and committing it to memory. For now, this would be enough.)

*

They settle into a familiar routine, though there’s enough variations that every day feels like something special. Or maybe that’s just because they’re here together. When Shi Qingxuan wakes up, they can usually tell which kind of day it’ll be; it depends on whether they ache too terribly, on whether they’ve slept well or had a nightmare, on whether He Xuan managed to stay the night.

This morning, a few weeks after they had first moved, He Xuan is beside them, the telltale rise and fall of his chest letting Shi Qingxuan know he’s awake. He Xuan never breathes when he sleeps— he has no need for it after all— but he likes doing it when he’s awake, finds it grounding. Sure enough, when they open their eyes, they see He Xuan looking down at them.

“Good morning,” He says. “Did you sleep well?”

Shi Qingxuan grins. “Of course I did, with you as my pillow.” He Xuan laughs, so they continue, “Ghost City was fine last night?”

“His Highness told me not to come, said he’d go.” He Xuan says, and sighs when Shi Qingxuan frowns. “He wanted to. He misses it there as I miss it here, when I’m gone.”

At this, they brighten. “He-xiong! I never knew you cared!”

“I don’t.” He backtracks, giving them a gentle shove. “Get off. I want breakfast.”

“You’ll cook for me, won’t you?” They ask, blinking innocently. “Don’t leave me to starve. No, He-xiong, where are you going? Don’t forget me!” They yell as He Xuan walks away, rolling his eyes. 

Still, by the time they’ve made it out of bed and started to become presentable, He Xuan returns to offer them a hand to the seating room, letting them compliment the food without him casting too many exasperated glances.

“You said we could go to the market today?” Shi Qingxuan asks, unable to keep the excitement out of their tone. Though it’s incredibly tiring, with everyone trying to stop and talk, the continuous stream of loud noises grating on even the most patient, the market still manages to be one of their favourite places there. The sense of community is something they can’t deny; having people call out to them, saying they’d saved a bucket of the fruits that they know He Xuan always buys for them, or friendly aunties asking about how repairing the old farms going, gives Shi Qingxuan one of the greatest feelings.

Before, as the Wind Master, they had many friends, though they knew that there was only a handful of them that were true. Money and status are the only things that matter up there, so they were clever enough to keep their cards as close to their chest as possible.

Yet, they had managed to be deceived. The friend they had thought would be there with them forever had faded away, had died months prior and they hadn’t even known. Any others they trusted had disappeared too, right along with their banishment.

But here, with the village’s smiling children and grinning shopkeepers and local scholars, everything feels real. The level of openness is impossible to fake.

Shi Qingxuan breathes it in like oxygen.

“If you want.” He Xuan agrees, answering their earlier question. “Do you want to walk down?”

“Sure!” They say, then grin, a little impish. “You’ll be there to carry my things.”

*

The walk down is wholly uneventful, except from when Shi Qingxuan insisted they took a shortcut and accidentally came across a minor haunting. He Xuan made quick work of it before they could even blink, and then had profusely apologised, as if seeing a vanquished ghost was enough to make them feel faint.

“I was a god, you know.” They had reminded, but He Xuan had just given them a soft look, tinged with a gentle sadness around the edges, as if to say but you aren’t anymore.

When they arrive in the market, the thing is already in full force, with merchants shouting out their prices. People flood through the middle of the street, stopping and starting as they admire wares. Shi Qingxuan is soon to join them, dragging He Xuan behind them as they rush on into the crowd, walking stick keeping them steady.

As they head down the street, people start to call out to them, greeting them like regulars. An uncle from the brewery says he’s finished with their order that Shi Qingxuan had insisted on buying just over a week ago. A young boy stops them and makes them admire a fan his mother had bought for them. An elderly woman sees them and smiles as she waves them over.

“Hello, you two. It’s been so long since you’ve been through here. One might think you’ve been avoiding us!” She jokes, her laughter making heavy lines appear on her face. She wears simple robes, those of commoners much like everyone else passing through the street. The only tell of her work appears on her hands, which are lightly stained from where the clay had dried on her skin and had yet to be washed away.

“Ah, no, of course not!” Shi Qingxuan replies hurriedly. “We’ve been very busy, haven’t we, He-xiong? Tell her we’ve been busy! We’ve been planting and rebuilding things slowly, and-”

“-Lounging in the sun.” He Xuan cuts in, dodging when Shi Qingxuan moves to slap his arm.

“Speak for yourself!” They reply. “I’ve been working very hard!”

“Have you two boys been doing well up there?” She asks. “I spent a lot of my time there growing up, so you better treat her kindly! That house of yours older than me.”

“Of course, of course! He-xiong said he was going to fix up the pier later so we can go fishing!! He’s been doing a great job, haven’t you?” Shi Qingxuan asks rhetorically, grinning up at He Xuan, who’s lightly coloured cheeks give away his gently flustered feelings. 

“You’re a strong young man.” She addresses He Xuan. “You wouldn’t mind helping little old me move some pots, would you?”

“I’d be happy to help.”

“And you-” She looks towards Shi Qingxuan- “Can stay and keep me busy whilst we put him to work.”

“I can help too, I swear it! I’m not one to let this-” They gesture to their leg- “stop me from helping out!” They say. As they make to follow He Xuan into the backroom where the uncle is, they’re stopped by a surprisingly firm hand on their arm. They suppress a flinch at the sudden touch as they turn back to the older lady, moving just out of reach.

“It’s a bunch of heavy lifting, you’d need two hands free.” She explains. “Why don’t you come gossip with me? It’s much better for the back!”

“I insist, I’m really quite spritely-” Shi Qingxuan replies. They can help. They’re the one who knows their limits more than anyone; moving a few pots is not beneath them. Their leg may never heal and their once-broken, not-quite-healed-right arm still aches when the weather gets bad, but that doesn’t stop them from pushing themselves to do what they can. If helping someone leads to their own detriment, then they will suffer the oncoming days of pain.

“Your friend has it covered, I’m sure.” She flippantly dismisses, waving her hand before leading Shi Qingxuan back again. “Now, come on, did you hear-”

The rest of it turns into white noise, and Shi Qingxuan finds themselves randomly nodding and smiling as she talks and talks, unable to make sense of anything more than short phrases. It echoes around in their mind, the feeling of uselessness as they were continually brushed aside, underestimated with only a glance. 

Who are you to underestimate me? They wonder. I’ve fought calamities before, and I’ve survived it. Why do you underestimate me?

But then He Xuan returns, breaking them out of the cycle, quietly laughing at something the uncle had said, until he notices Shi Qingxuan’s turmoil and immediately comes to their side.

“Sorry to cut it short but we really must be going.” He Xuan interrupts. “Much to buy.” He adds, raising a basket he’s holding now.

Whatever she replies, Shi Qingxuan doesn’t hear it as they’re led away, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, a calming sensation of gravel crunching beneath their shoes. There’s a hand on their back, they feel, which doesn’t hold them up but simply guides them, ready to catch them if they stumble.

It doesn’t take long for their head to clear again, like a thunderstorm gone by.

“Better?” He Xuan asks, mouth beside Shi Qingxuan’s ear from where they’re tucked into his shoulder in a random sidealley. He had taken them aside as their hands began to shake, letting them calm down out of the eyes in the public.

“Yes. Sorry.” They reply. They’ve always been easily shaken, but they had thought they had improved over the years, especially after their banishment. It isn’t like them to let such casual words affect them so.

“You don’t apologise for this.” He Xuan murmurs into their skin. “Don’t apologise for needing comfort when someone is being needlessly rude, no matter how accidental.”

At his words, Shi Qingxuan finds themselves calming further. The reassurance settles over them, and they take a deep breath before standing full again, propped up by their walking stick.

“You ready?” He Xuan asks. There’s a look in his eyes like he had witnessed something groundbreaking; all soft and filled with wonder, almost as if he’s in awe at watching them piece themselves together. Shi Qingxuan coughs and looks away, nodding; they decide not to think on it any further.

“Let’s go shopping.”

The next few hours pass quickly, surprisingly so. Shi Qingxuan finds themselves easing back into the bustling atmosphere, another anonymous face in the flooding crowds. Less people call out to them as they pass by, but that is probably down to He Xuan’s guarding look rather than any feat of Shi Qingxuan’s own.

Sometimes, when they see him in all of the soft moments, they forget that he’s dangerous too.

Still, he’s never softer than when he’s by their side. They walk through the crowd together, inseparable, occasionally pulling over at stalls to admire the wares. Eventually, they pick up some mantou, eating it as they go.

“Ah, look at that vase.” Shi Qingxuan sighs. “And that comb! Ooh, you might like those scrolls! I’m going to go look-”

Off they delve back into the crowd, this time with one destination in mind. The scrolls, when unravelled, are exactly what the merchant had said; details about history, apparently updated with newly discovered letters. There’s diagrams too, as Shi Qingxuan skims through; detailed maps and recounts, as well as drawings of the battle and the subsequent burial mound is became, sketched by an unnamed soldier. It’s the sort of thing He Xuan is sure to like, as he’s taken to studying any history that he himself has had no hand in.

They begin bartering down the price, cringing when they think about spending that much money when it’s funds they technically don’t have. Neither of them work, though having Hua Cheng has a bank has helped them consideringly; but still, Shi Qingxuan doesn’t want to owe him any more than necessary.

Just as they’ve gotten the price down to something comfortable, He Xuan materialises at their side.

“I can pay for that.” He Xuan says. The merchant thanks him as they walk off, wares in tow. He Xuan tucks the scroll on top of the basket he’s carrying; from what Shi Qingxuan can see, there’s a pouch of something there too, and something beneath that which is being obstructed.

They pout. “I was gonna buy that for you! It’s not fair if you buy it for yourself.”

“We share the money.” He Xuan replies, sounding undeniably fond. “There’s no difference if I were to buy it or you were to buy it.”

“But there is!” Shi Qingxuan wails. “It’s about intent! I wanted to buy it for you…”

“I’ll let you buy it next time.” He Xuan concedes. “Come on, let’s go home. I have something for us to eat.”

They keep walking, the conservation between them playful. Shi Qingxuan continues to complain, though it’s nothing too serious, as they wear a smile despite it all. They hold hands as they walk, and Shi Qingxuan swings their arms so they can feel the rush of wind beneath their fingers. Although it doesn’t feel the same as it once had, and likely never would, it’s still a soothing feeling to them, and they continue their walk with a wide grin on their face.

“Here we are.” He Xuan says as they near the abandoned house that they often use to get back to the farm. As discreetly as possible, though they’re far away enough from town that it’s likely no one will see them, they enter the house. Shi Qingxuan watches as He Xuan draws the array on the wall again, before returning to their side and offering his arm.

“Are you ready?”

“Mn!” 

Seconds later, they’re home again.

As they materialise, hand still tightly intertwined with He Xuan’s, they can’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m glad to be home.” They murmur, and He Xuan smiles. 

“You got everything you wanted, didn’t you?” He asks. Shi Qingxuan lifts his other hand to show the collectables they have tightly clenched there, unwinding their fingers so he can take a better look. “Very pretty.” He says, not looking at anything at all.

“He-xiong!” Shi Qingxuan exclaims, and then falls into a flustered silence where they’re not entirely sure how to continue. Only He Xuan ever manages such a feat, always coming up with new ways to surprise them. “Let’s go outside-” They eventually continue, ignoring He Xuan’s resulting laugh- “You wanted to work on the dock today, right?”

“Mn, that’s correct.” He Xuan says. “I don’t think there’ll be much to help with but you can watch if you want.”

That’s as good as an invite for a good show, Shi Qingxuan thinks, already grinning at the prospect of He Xuan being shirtless and sweaty as he cuts down the necessary lumber for fixing up their pier. They grab a few pieces of paper and a bit of spare wood for them to lean on, as well as their brushes and an inkpot. Settling down against a tree, under the nice shade, seems like their best bet at staying comfortable for the next few hours, so they begin to set up the space around them as He Xuan heads over to the forest, still wearing his dark golds and blacks.

Rather than grabbing an axe, or any other tool that could appropriately cut wood in a normal human manner, He Xuan decides to just— and Shi Qingxuan says this with no exaggeration, slacked jaw and all— cut down trees with sheer force. It’s a wonder he doesn’t break his hand.

After all that, he carries the trees— the heavy trees, grown for many, many years to be able to build up a dense forest— back closer to the lake, closer to where Shi Qingxuan sits and gets to work with more precise tools than his hand for god's sake.

Only after a few minutes of watching, when He Xuan eventually looks up at them and has the audacity to smirk, does Shi Qingxuan squeak and actually start painting. As an excuse to keep admiring the scene in front of them, they paint the landscape, beginning with the water surrounded by reeds and a half-finished pier. They paint the trees next, taking care to add the ones that had recently fallen and been left discarded for later. They miss off their shed to paint the more important things, switching to a smaller brush to better capture the details of He Xuan’s focused face; how his brow is ever so slightly furrowed as he works, how his robes crease against his body, how his careful hands steady the planks, stark against the dark wood.

Soon, He Xuan returns to their side, but not before grabbing some fruit for them— the fruits that were in the basket that the uncle had given them earlier as compensation— to share between them. He settles beside them, before peering over. Shi Qingxuan squarks and lifts their drawing, not quite ready for it to be shown to the world.

“Why won’t you let me see?” He Xuan asks, and then he smiles, all toothy, like a predator. “Were you drawing me?”

“Maybe!” Shi Qingxuan exclaims. “It doesn’t look good yet.”

“I’m the one who’s been drawn, I should be allowed to see it.” He argues, though he lays back into the still-slightly dewy grass as if to show he won’t push it. “I won’t be mad if you made me look like a demon.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Shi Qingxuan says, pushing at him with their foot. “Because you are one.”

He Xuan groans, all dramatic, before sighing, “You wound me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” They reply. “Now pass me a lychee!”

He does so, and they dig into it eagerly, ignoring the juice that sprays across their fingers.

“Can you fish today, He-xiong?” Shi Qingxuan asks after taking a bite. “Oh, can you teach me? Can we swim too?”

“Yes to all.” He Xuan says. “Though perhaps we shouldn’t swim today. Your leg…”

He withdraws slightly, the way he always does when their wounds are mentioned. Shi Qingxuan steadfastly ignores the atmosphere and continues, “But the weather is so nice… It’d be a shame to waste it.”

When He Xuan remains unconvinced, they add, “I’ll only swim for a little while! And then you can carry me in again, haha.”

“Tomorrow, then.” He Xuan concedes. “When you haven’t walked down to the market.”

“As wise as ever.” They agree. Despite their walk this morning, their leg seems relatively okay, no more painful than normal but it definitely wouldn’t be after swimming. They wonder if, when tomorrow comes, they will even be able to swim, because it’s always a bit tougher after strenuous activity. To change the topic, they suddenly say, “These fruits are nice!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” They repeat. “Those old folk are very generous. Even if they’re a bit… You know. We’ll have to go and thank them.”

He Xuan hums in a way that means he knows something, though Shi Qingxuan is too tired to try and figure out what, let alone needle him for it. They’re suddenly very glad they didn’t insist on swimming.

They decide to move then, since the tree was digging holes into their spine. Patting down He Xuan’s robes, brushing off the remnants of sawdust, they settle their head against his chest, revelling in how warm and comfortable it is; the sun must have warmed him up as he worked, so Shi Qingxuan takes full advantage of that and soaks it in.

“Missed you.” They say, when He Xuan makes a confused sound. “You smell good.”

“What do I smell like?” He wonders.

“Wood.” They answer. “Water. Nice water. The clean stuff. You know?”

He huffs a laugh, which suggests he doesn’t, even as he contrarily says, “Of course. And you smell like the clouds, or what I remember the sky to smell like.”

“Would you want to go back?” Shi Qingxuan wonders. “To heaven, I mean?”

“Why would I?” He replies. “There’s nothing for me there. You’re here with me.”

“Mn.” Shi Qingxuan agrees. They think of the people up there and compare them to the person down here; the latter is definitely preferable, if how comfortable he is is anything to judge on. “I don’t want to go back either. You’re the prettiest thing in all the realms, so I’ll stay right here.”

For a few moments, He Xuan doesn’t respond. When the time stretches into something worrying, Shi Qingxuan moves to lift their head, though He Xuan shoves them down again, so they can’t see him. The next time he speaks, his voice comes out strangely garbled.

“That cloud looks like a fish.”

Immediately, Shi Qingxuan turns to look, following where He Xuan’s pointing to. For a moment, they forget themselves, staring at his fingers for a little too long, before they clear their throat and actually turn to the sky.

They blink once, and again, just for an extra measure. There is no way that thing looks anything fish-like.

“Huh?” Shi Qingxuan asks. “You mean the round blob of cloud?” They squint at it again, as if willing it into focus. “If anything, it’d be a frog. Round and chubby. And the wispy bits around it can be flies.”

“Okay.” He Xuan replies, his voice slightly calmer. Shi Qingxuan wonders why he was so stressed about a cloud. “That one, though-” He points in another direction, and Shi Qingxuan looks- “is a heart.”

The heart-cloud is surprisingly well-formed, if a little lopsided, which they comment on. When He Xuan laughs about it, Shi Qingxuan feels something in their own heart warm, a nice sensation that they would soon learn to categorise as content.

They spent the next hour or so like that, simply pointing out shapes and arguing about them until the other concedes. The sky eventually starts sinking into softer colours, light blue melting into hazy pinks and oranges, the colour of the very peaches they ate.

He Xuan eventually gets up to work again, though Shi Qingxuan follows him this time, sitting on the bank of the lake. They dip their feet into the cool, shallow water as they chatter, filling the open air between them. Though he doesn’t often respond, He Xuan listens with an attentive ear, humming his replies.

The feeling in their chest remains the entire evening. Content.

*

The next day is spent fishing on the newly completed pier. Or He Xuan fishes, and Shi Qingxuan rotates between activities. At first, they lean against He Xuan and try to watch, chattering as they gently sway their feet through the water, letting it run between their toes.

It’s too cool for them to swim today, so they resolve to put just their feet in the water instead. He Xuan is focused beside them, but occasionally he’ll talk too. He’s talking now, his line cast loosely into the middle of the lake. It seems nothing's biting.

“It’s so cold, He-xiong.” They complain, leaning into his side. It makes him jostle, almost tipping over the edge of the pier, though Shi Qingxuan grabs him again and steadies him, just in case. “Why do we have to be outside? I’ll freeze!”

“Go inside then.” He Xuan replies, glancing at Shi Qingxuan before focusing back on the lake. 

“But then you’ll be lonely.” Shi Qingxuan argues. “I can’t leave you out here alone to suffer. We can catch fish later, why don’t we curl up by the fire instead?”

“And have your cold feet on me the entire time?” He Xuan asks. 

“You’re always freezing and I don’t complain!” Shi Qingxuan replies. “We should cook you before you get into bed. Roast you over the coals so you’ll be all toasty.”

“You say this as if you don’t immediately get too warm the moment we lie down.” He Xuan laughs. “You need me to make sure you don’t overheat.”

“Mn.” Shi Qingxuan concedes. “You can be my little glacier.”

“Okay.” He Xuan agrees. “I’ll be your glacier.”

“But then you’ll melt!” They suddenly despair. “Oh my god, I’m going to melt my personal glacier. What will you do then? You’ll be a little puddle. Oh no.”

Cutting off their tirade, He Xuan laughs, and keeps laughing as if it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard.

“Eh? What are you laughing about?”

“I won't really melt you know.” He replies, still clutching at his stomach. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

“I know, I know. But can’t I plan out what I’d do?”

“What would you do if you woke up and I was a puddle?” He Xuan asks seriously.

“Well,” Shi Qingxuan starts, in a tone of someone familiar with bullshitting. “Firstly, I will wonder where you’ve gone, and why there’s a wet spot where you were sleeping.”

“Would you-”

“-Think you wet the bed and were too embarrassed to face me? Of course.” Shi Qingxuan laughs. “But that’s not something to worry about because I love you too much to judge you. I’d only laugh a little bit.”

“You’re so mean.” He grumbles, but it has no bite. “What then?”

“You really want to know?” They wonder. 

“I asked, didn’t I?” He Xuan responds. “Please, tell me what would you do if I was a puddle.”

“I’d find a way to turn you back!!” They exclaim. “Well, first of all, I would work out you were a puddle because you’d be very smart and sentient and you would tell me before I cleaned up our sheets. Somehow. You’re a magic puddle so it’s on you to find a way to communicate with me.”

“After that, I’ll put you in a little jar so I can carry you around. Do some good old curse searching like how we used to… Except this time you’re a puddle so it’s a bit more difficult.” They think on it for a second. “Maybe I can get His Highness to be your replacement for a while. He’ll be very nice about you being a puddle. I don’t think he’d even laugh.”

“I don’t know.” He Xuan replies, brow creased in apparent thought. “I think showing up to your friends house and being like, “Hey, the Ghost King I’ve been hanging out with is now a few drops of water. Can you turn him back please?’ is kind of funny. I’d laugh if it was Hua Cheng.”

“That’s because you’re mean and laugh at his misfortune.” Shi Qingxuan says. “His Highness, on the other hand, is a very nice person.”

“I can be nice!” He Xuan frowns, faux-annoyed. “Look at me, fishing for our dinner. I wouldn’t do this if I was evil.”

Shi Qingxuan giggles, all soft and delighted. “You’re my kind little puddle.” They say. “I’ll show you the world through a little jar. And when people say unkind things, I’ll splash them.”

“Okay.” He Xuan agrees. “That sounds okay. Just make sure I don’t spill too much.”

They gasp, placing a hand against their chest as if they’re in shock. “Who do you take me for? Do you think I’d let you pour away? No, that little jar will be my most prized possession. Won’t go anywhere without it!”

He Xuan laughs again. “I hope I don’t wake up as a puddle, no matter how nice it sounds.”

“Mn.” They hum. “I like the real you too much to have to downgrade to just a jar. Even if you’re cold.”

A tug at the line steals away any reply He Xuan might have had, and both of them focus on the rippling water surrounding them. After a few more seconds of inactivity, Shi Qingxuan sighs, fetching some of the paper they brought out earlier. They move away from the edge of the dock slightly, lest they get it wet.

“Fishing is so boring.” They say. “Nothing happens for ages. It’s okay because I’m with you but, if I was alone, I don’t think I could bear it.”

“It’s a test of patience.” He Xuan says. “You sit and wait and eventually your reward comes.”

“In the form of dinner.” Shi Qingxuan continues. “I think more things should be rewarded like that. But with much less waiting. It’s no fun to wait.”

“No, it's not.” He says. “But the payoff is always better.”

“Is it?” They ask, absentmindedly sketching a fan. It’s made of paper, unlike their old one; instead, it’s more similar to the young boy at the market, engraved the exact same way, though the design is different. They sketch a pond with occasional reeds dotted around the edges, before focusing on the background.

“No.” He Xuan says, tiredness creeping in at the edges. “It isn’t.”

The sound of water rushing echoes again, the line growing taut before slacking again. He Xuan watches with renewed focus, and Shi Qingxuan admires him from afar, using the distraction to not get caught.

“Let’s go inside.” He Xuan eventually says. Despite their earlier complaints, they had found it quite nice outside in the end, even if the chill wasn’t entirely pleasant. They had gotten used to the discomfort that comes with the cold, however, and it only catches up with them when they attempt to stand and their leg refuses to cooperate. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” They say, steadying themselves on his hands. “Give me a moment. Just warming up.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t hold onto your glacier for that.” He Xuan jokes, and Shi Qingxuan smiles.

“Grab my paper for me, will you?” They say, and He Xuan does so, passing over the paper before grabbing the fish. “Dinners going to be good tonight!” 

“I hope so.” He Xuan says. “I’d prefer that I didn’t spend all day fishing for it to go to waste.”

“I’ll be sure to enjoy it! I’ve always liked fish, you know, no matter what you do with them... Ge used to catch them with his hands for me when I was young.” Shi Qingxuan says. They don’t think about the past very often, out of self-preservation rather than ignorance, but when they do it always seems so pleasant, tinted rose. It hurts more than they would like to admit, because all those soft moments were never meant to be theirs. “I tried to copy him once but I never managed it. I swear I was under the water more than I was standing, that’s how clumsy I was. Ge would fish me out and berate me but we’d eat the fish he caught and I knew he wasn’t really mad.”

He Xuan stays predictably silent, as he always does when Shi Wudu is brought up. Shi Qingxuan is allowed to reminisce and He Xuan is allowed to listen, but neither ever try to convince each other about him. 

“Do you think I could catch fish like this now?” They frown down at themselves, the familiar sensation of self-doubt settling over them like one of their brother’s old fur cloaks; the ones that they would almost drown in when they were younger, too heavy for them to even stand in, let alone run. “I can’t move very fast but isn’t that a good thing? It means the fish won’t be scared away when I stay still.”

“Too impatient. You fidget too much still.” He Xuan says, before adding, when Shi Qingxuan gives him a pouty look. “But that’s okay. Maybe you just need some motivation.”

“Motivation?” They ask, interest piqued. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe,” He says, staring resolutely ahead even as Shi Qingxuan watches him like a hawk. “Maybe I’ll give you a kiss. If you manage to catch one.”

“Deal.” Shi Qingxuan says, immediately grinning. A flush spreads across He Xuan’s face, colouring his pale cheeks into something similar in colour to a cherry. “I’d better get practising then. I wouldn’t want to miss out on my prize.”

If He Xuan trips over air at the words, that’s for him to think of alone. He ignores Shi Qingxuan's echoing laughter that floats through the air behind him.

*

Later that evening, after they’ve eaten, they curl up together by the hearth, intertwined with each other. Shi Qingxuan had sprawled down earlier, cushioned in by their blankets, and He Xuan was quick to join them, sticking himself to their side.

At first, they had spoken, but the heavy feeling of sleepiness settled over them both soon, aided by the fire and the feelings of a full stomach. The windows are closed but the echo of a breeze still howls by, punctuated by the gentle splashing off rain against the earth. Shi Qingxuan feels their eyes close, the world going hazy around the edges as they grow further and further away from consciousness.

Their fist is gripping He Xuan’s robes tightly, and his head is tucked against their chin. The pressure against their skin starts to fade with the rest of the world, until it disappears all at once, startling Shi Qingxuan awake again.

“Xuan-er?” They ask, rubbing at their eyes. Their voice is groggy from sleep, and they fight back a yawn before they continue, suddenly more alert. “Are you going somewhere?”

He Xuan sighs, and Shi Qingxuan’s vision finally comes into focus. He Xuan looks apologetic, which they take note of, but they still frown up at him; he’s magically redressed himself in his outer robe, looking more like the put-together Black Water than the man they were supposed to be spending the night with.

“Where are you going?” They ask in light of his hesitation, more serious this time.

“I’m going to the Ghost City-”

“Why?” They ask, pushing themself up so they’re sitting. It’s hard to keep the annoyance out of their tone. “Right now? It can’t wait a few hours, until morning?”

“No, no, it really can’t.” He Xuan soothes, and Shi Qingxuan looks away, glaring at the wall. It isn’t that they don’t believe him, but that they wish it wasn’t true. “It’s urgent this time. His Highness asked for me. He wouldn’t have bothered us if there was another choice.”

Shi Qingxuan turns back to him again, worry taking over. “I’m sorry.” They say. “We’ll talk later. But go help His Highness now. I can be alone for a few hours.”

He Xuan still looks at them anxiously but eventually nods and goes to leave, but not before giving them a sound kiss on the forehead.

“I’ll be home soon.” He murmurs. “Don’t stay up for me.” 

“I’ll be here waiting.” They reply. “Don’t leave me for too long, mn?”

“Of course not.” He promises, pulling away slightly. For a moment, they just look at each other before he ducks his head, apparently shy, and adds, “Sleep well, A-Xuan.”

And just like that, he’s out of the door.

Shi Qingxuan slumps backwards again, not bothering to hold themselves up anymore. They lie there, cursing out all types of luck and fortune before forcing themselves to stand and do something. 

It’s never easy anymore to fall asleep without company, the foreign feeling of space beside them, so they get to work in doing something, anything, that will work as a distraction; it comes in the form of a bath.

It quickly becomes clear that they’ve underestimated the amount of work it takes to draw one.

As a child, they had been born in a family of wealthy merchants, so they typically had servants to command whenever they wanted one. Even better, they had often walked down to the ocean, or found an empty lake in the woods, below the hills that Shi Wudu used to train on. Even now, after they’ve risen and fallen, it’s He Xuan who usually draws the water, his natural affinity coming in handy, as they only have to wait for it to heat.

The walk to the well isn’t exactly unsturdy, but it is difficult when forced to balance a cane and a heavy bucket of sloshing water. They manage the first two trips with minimal complaints but soon their leg and arm and entire body begin to burn, muscles aching in a way they hardly remember now.

In the end, it takes them far too long to bring in enough water; even then, the resulting amount only comes up to their waist, nowhere near their shoulders as they had originally envisioned. Still, it’s better than nothing and, as they sit and wait for the water to heat, they massage their arm and worry.

It’s not common that Xie Lian asks for He Xuan to head to Ghost City in his stead, though it is rare. Sometimes, he will be caught up with aiding the common people, pouring his heart into moving on spirits and destroying fierce corpses. Other times, he thinks He Xuan would better handle the situation, when it covers an area that only a Ghost King can know about.

Xie Lian has never asked for He Xuan to accompany him before, though, and dread settles over Shi Qingxuan’s heart.

Maybe it’s a revolt, they think as they step into the warm bathtub. Maybe there’s lots of fighting and both of them will be hurt.

No, they argue to themselves, beginning to run their hands over their own body, massaging out the last of the aches in their shoulders. The warm seeps into them like a rock left under the sunlight. His Highness can handle himself, and so can He Xuan. He’s only been gone half a shichen; there’s no reason to worry.

After all, he’s been gone for much longer before.

Then, there’s the sound of a door opening, and He Xuan enters again, carrying with him the weariness that always accompanies him back from Ghost City. He heads towards where he knows Shi Qingxuan is, though falters when he notices their state of undress, turning quickly so he sees nothing he shouldn’t.

“Ah, He-xiong, don’t we live together? It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” They say, voice intentionally casual. “You can come over.” And, when it seems like he won’t move, they add, “There are soap suds.”

That, finally, gets him moving.

He returns from around the privacy screen, simply staring for a few seconds at Shi Qingxuan’s back as they slosh the water through their fingers. From his view, he can only see above the shoulders, everything else shielded by the wooden tub. Their hair, inky black, obstructs further, though it is mostly pulled over their right shoulder, from where they had begun washing it. It’s twisted now, formed into little curls and knots, snagging when they run their fingers through it again.

More importantly, perhaps, is how their shoulder’s glimmer in the moonlight, droplets of water steadily rolling down them.

Shi Qingxuan notices none of this, nor the effect it has, with their mind being too caught up elsewhere.

“How was Ghost City?” They ask, misreading the sound of He Xuan’s resulting gulp. “That bad? Is His Highness okay?”

“It was… A fucking mess, to put it lightly.” He Xuan says, his voice gravelly. Shi Qingxuan’s eyes widen, and they turn in the tub to face him, though he quickly looks away, averting his eyes to stare intently at the wall. Huh. “Xie Lian is fine, though. Tired, too.” 

“That bad?” They repeat, with a tone less questioning and more resigned. “I would offer to let you share the bath but… There’s not much water left. And it’s quite cool.”

“I can fetch more water.” He Xuan says, though makes no other move to follow through on his offer. When Shi Qingxuan looks again, it seems he’s gathering courage for something. Then, after he turns back to them and flushes as he notices his turmoil had been caught, he asks, “Can I wash your hair?”

“Oh.” Shi Qingxuan replies, brain managing to stop working. “Oh! Yes, of course! Come here. You have the best hands.”

They turn to their original position, though move away from the rim of the tub so He Xuan has room to work in. He Xuan settles behind them after a small pause, hands quickly finding themselves in their hair, teasing out the knots with a comb that came from who knows where.

He Xuan clears his throat before speaking. “Are you well?” He asks. “The bath…”

As always, he struggles over the topic of Shi Qingxuan’s leg. They roll their eyes, making use of them facing away, before saying, “In truth, it hurts a lot. But it’s okay. Nothing like suffering for momentary pleasures.”

“You could have waited-”

“I wanted to do it.” They object. “And I am not dependent on you. I… I care for you very much, but I can pour my own baths.” And, then, “I don’t want to have to owe you anything.”

“You don’t owe me.” He Xuan says, placing down the comb and moving his hands into their scalp instead, starting to massage around the temples before working further backwards. “I like helping you. And spending time with you. It’s not a matter of you owing me. I do it because I like knowing you’re comfortable.”

Maybe it’s because they can’t look each other in the eyes, both facing the same direction, or it’s because it’s night again, the dark obscuring the scene, but Shi Qingxuan finds it easier to be honest.

“I know. I’m sorry.” They say. “I don’t mean to be rude, or ungrateful, or anything. Your help is appreciated and-” They sigh, cutting themselves off- “None of this is what I wanted to say at all. I wanted you to tell me about Ghost City. I…”

“I can tell you about Ghost City.” He Xuan shushes, not unkindly. He starts, “It wasn’t as much of a deal as I made it out to be, perhaps. His Highness had not had the authority required for the situation, though. It was the Gambler’s Den, and you remember how unruly the ghosts are in there.”

“They pinned Lang Qianqiu to a ceiling and proceeded to try and grope him.” Shi Qingxuan reminisces. “If I had known His Highness was such good friends with Crimson Rain, maybe I wouldn’t have fretted so much.” They laugh, thinking back to the day.

It was a good time, as far as heavenly missions went. Meeting the Crown Prince was a pleasant experience, and they had worked together well, even if their rescue mission wasn’t much of a rescue at all.

“A few of the ghosts there decided to run rampant. Didn’t like the outcomes of their bets, I’m guessing. Xie Lian wasn’t monitoring it either, so he relayed to me just what the croupiers said. Bunch of animals, I swear.”

“I take it that it wasn’t worth going for.” Shi Qingxuan said.

“Contrarily,” He Xuan says, grinning wide. It isn't too difficult to imagine the fright the ghosts had gotten at the sight of him. “I think it was incredibly useful. In fact, I haven’t felt this full in months.”

And Shi Qingxuan laughs again, laughs until they’re hunched over and the water almost chokes them. When they push themselves up again, they feel breathless with it, giddy now that the tense atmosphere has fully passed.

“Do you want me to get more water?” He Xuan asks. “I can warm some up.”

They think on it a moment before nodding. It doesn’t take long before he returns again, and the water steadily rises up to their neck, somehow already warm.

They laugh again when a small bone fish spills out of the bucket too, landing with a splash that most certainly manages to wet the floor. It quickly spins as it rights itself, before nudging Shi Qingxuan’s palm once it realises where it is.

Though the fish are usually poisonous, He Xuan seems to have done something to counteract it, as no rash appears on their hand. Strangely, it seems to have some adjustments on its face too, though they hardly manage to notice as it begins to attempt to play, almost like a puppy rather than a fish.

“He-xiong!!” They grin. “It’s so cute!! Where have you been hiding them? Oh my god!!”

“There’s a bunch in our lake.” He says. “I forgot to tell you. If you go the edge and put your hand in, I’m sure a few will come out to greet you.”

“Oh my god.” Shi Qingxuan moans again. “We have pet skeleton fish and you didn’t tell me!!”

“Pass me the soap?” He asks, and Shi Qingxuan does. “It was supposed to be a surprise for when we went swimming, though I thought I’d bring one in now. They miss you a lot.”

“How?” Shi Qingxuan wonders. “I don’t think I’ve ever met any of these ones… All of the fish in your lair were very big.”

“Ah, well…” He Xuan says. His voice gets quieter as he says, “They tend to reflect the feelings of the one in charge. And I missed you in Ghost City.”

“Xuan-er…”

They turn in the water to face him, catching his wrist from where he’s begun massaging their shoulders. They take his hand, opening it up to link their fingers together. Though their hands are pruney from being underwater for so long but neither of them comment on it.

Shi Qingxuan looks at him, really looks; they see his pale face, slightly flushed from either— or maybe both— heat and proximity. They see his eyes darting, as if he doesn’t know where he’s allowed to look. Worst of all, they notice how he trembles slightly, as if he’s nervous, and wants so much that it can’t be contained.

Shi Qingxuan only feels a calm confidence, a feeling of complete power surging through them as they press forward, tugging his hand back as they meet in the middle, their lips joining over the wooden rim of the bath. He Xuan kisses back immediately, as if he had been waiting for this moment for years, but they both pull away together, simply smiling.

“How scandalous.” They whisper. “In front of your little bone fishie.”

“It can’t see.” He replies, and Shi Qingxuan laughs against his mouth as he leans in again. “What it doesn’t know won’t hurt it.”

“Xuan-er, Xuan-er…” They groan. “You will really be the death of me.” 

“I’d rather you wouldn’t die,” He says. “I’m dead enough for the both of us.”

He earns himself a playful smack at that, splashing him with water. He doesn’t even complain, just smiles through it as if it’s the best thing in the world.

Then, he glances to the table beside him as he remembers something. “I bought you something that day in the market, you know.”

“Oh?’

“I had this elaborate plan, you see. A scheme if you will.”

“What are you nervous for?” Shi Qingxuan kisses him again, urging him to get to the point. There is no reason for him to ramble anymore. “Tell me.”

“Well, at the market, I bought you a comb.” He shuffles over to the table, bringing it back before handing it over. The design is intricate enough, but not so much that it’s opulent. It both passes as simple and expensive, as if someone had the money but not the need to flaunt it. “I meant to use it to express my — intentions. But it’s a little too late for that.”

“A little.” They agree. “But I think it was fine this way, no?”

"Mn." He Xuan smiles. “Come on, then. Let’s get you out of that tub.”

They dry off quickly, redressing in the night robes as He Xuan stands a few paces away, looking entirely flustered. They step over then, wrapping their arms around his neck as they pull him down into another kiss. He Xuan moves to support their legs, lifting them up to carry them over to their bed. 

He gently places them down, though they make sure to tug him with them as he can go. Before they can laugh, He Xuan moves up to kiss them again, as if he was deprived for so long now it’s entirely the only thing he can think of.  

Time turns fuzzy as the black of the sky melts into vibrant oranges, blazing pinks, and a sea of pure white. They both lose themselves in it for a while, letting the warm buzz fill the space between them as they slowly relax into it against each other. 

At some point, Shi Qingxuan grows so tired from a night of no sleep that their eyes start blinking shut.

“Take responsibility, He-xiong.” Shi Qingxuan murmurs against He Xuan’s arm. “Look at how tired I am… It’s your fault for kissing me so hard. And for so long.”

“Mn.” He Xuan agrees, though it is no fault of his, but rather the fact they are mortal and require sleep. He makes no move to comment on this, indulging them instead, running a hand through their hair. “Sleep well.”

They mean to insist on staying awake, to talk some more and say everything they had been meaning to for who knows how long, but sleep follows them until it’s impossible to evade, and they find themselves lost anyways, even if they cling tighter.

Unbeknownst to them, He Xuan watches as their breathing evens out and they sink subconsciously deeper into his arms. And as he stares, some of the pain in his chest— the centuries of starving and torment, of the ridicule that came with his story— start to loosen, fading away alongside the gentle puffs of Shi Qingxuan’s breath against his stomach.

Chapter Text

He Xuan knows he is dreaming because, when he opens his eyes, he is met with the impossible.

It’s the day of the Yuanxiao Festival, shown by the bright decorations and the heavenly smell of food wafting through the air. Before him is a large table, made to seat six or seven, filled with food stacked so high it could have been that of a rich man’s. 

His family had always splurged come the time of festives. Never one to pass by a chance of celebration. He Xuan takes a shaky step forward and allows himself to look— this one seems to be a memory. He can’t quite remember how old he was, but he knows he was younger than he is now, and a whole lot more naïve too. When things went wrong, he could pretend to believe they got better. Now, he hardly believes what he has is actually forever.

Well, not quite. But it’ll last some time, at least. Unlike this story that unfolds before him, as his mother comes through from the kitchen to scold him for already getting too close to the food.

“You’ll wait for us all, now, A-Xuan.” She reminds him, and she must not see the startled look he gives her. He feels tears well up in his throat from just hearing her voice. Even that is enough to bring the memories flooding back.

He wants to run up and grab her. Hug her tight and never let go. Curl up in her lap and let her pet his hair like she used to, even when he got too big and old for it. But he finds himself stuck in place, unable to move his feet away from the table. Something inside him aches, and he isn’t quite sure that it’s because of the vast, never-ending hunger in the empty pit that is his stomach. Instead, it’s higher; the pangs settle somewhere beneath his ribcage, like insects crawling under his skin.

This seems to trigger his memory to continue. People appear all of a sudden, all swarming to find a seat. He feels a gentle hand on his elbow and turns before he can stop himself. There she stands, hasn’t aged a year since he saw her be forcibly dragged away. She’s smiling. He hasn’t seen her smile in so long, had almost forgotten it; how her teeth were slightly crooked, and how one of her front ones had a chip out of it from where she had gotten into a minor carriage accident in her teens. The way her smile contorts her face, creasing into little dimples. That almost overshadows her freckles, and the way her dark brown hair seems to bring out the little brown marks against her already tan skin.

She sees his expression, somehow, even through the haziness of dreams, and brings a hand up to his cheek. Without hesitating, she brushes away a stray tear there, before leaning forward to kiss beneath the other eye too. She was not one to leave a stone untouched.

“Come on, Xuan’er.” She smiles. It’s soft enough, though laced with humour. He had always been emotional when he was younger, so perhaps here she thinks it’s more of the same.

How can he tell her it isn't. How can he say, i watched you fall and i know it was all because of our intertwined fates. How can he say, get away from me, get away, i’ll kill you, you are not obligated to be by my side, you should have lived rather than me-

“Let’s eat.”

She drags him to the table. Sitting between her and his sister, he finds himself unable to speak.

But she notices, letting out her bark of a laugh. She spoons some food into his gaping maw, and laughs harder still when he tries not to splutter.

He can feel the taste of it on his tongue. Just enough spice, just enough sweet. Just how he likes it.

“Come now, we can’t waste all the food A-Niang cooked for us, didi.” His sister says from beside him. She starts filling up his own bowl, noticing that he hadn’t made any move to himself.

He Xuan resolves himself to live out this one last meal with them. He will have this once, and he will awaken and dry his tears before the sun rises. 

But good things aren’t made to last. It sweeps in quickly, immobilising him in freezing cold waters before he realises what has even happened. From the open windows, the ceiling, from the battered down door, water pours in, so dark it's impossible to see through it. 

He can’t move even when it rises past his knees. Around him, everything is chaos; people struggle to push the door back up, and he sees his parents begin the impossible task of closing the window.

She stays with him, and holds him tight. From the rabbit beat of her pulse, it’s clear she’s terrified, but she doesn’t say it.

“You always remain calm in times like these.” She says. It’s more of a gasp, with how breathless it is. He cannot move his gaze away from the table, where the food begins to float, but he can feel her eyelashes fluttering from where she’s pressed into his neck. “You don’t even utter a prayer. You let it happen.”

“Does that make it my fault?” He asks. “Should I have fought harder, to save you all?”

“Xuan’er, Xuan’er, you know there was nothing you could do.” She promises. “Your calm was the only thing that kept us all stable for so long. Now, we are lost to a storm that’s not of your creation.”

“Don’t go again.” He pleads. He’s still frozen, feeling the water up to his neck. It seeps through his clothes, through to his very bones. It grips him, tight and chilling, the feeling of cruel hands wrapping around his soul and tearing it out without a care. “I can’t take it again.”

“You have someone else now.” She says, and then she throws herself back into the endlessly black water around them.

For a moment then, it is silent, except from the racing of his thoughts.

He Xuan wants to cry, he was never your replacement.

He Xuan wants to scream at the injustice of it all.

Instead, the water ripples once, twice, before it parts again. The waters are somewhere familiar, with the bottom of the lake twisting to form his Black Water Lake. The dry ground doesn’t make a single sound beneath his feet; it’s as if he’s not there at all, and yet he still sees.

Sees Shi Qingxuan stood between the water’s twin sides. They’re looking up, as the waves twist above them. It’s a fight, He Xuan realises, and it’s one that he wins.

Except he doesn’t feel any satisfaction. The first time it had come with the feeling of a plan finally complete, even if it felt wrong . There was a sick sense of glee in seeing it through to the end.

This time, he just feels empty.

His gaze turns away from the waves, to the figure that looks towards him now.

They are faceless. Their robes are dirty and torn, no longer a pure white. There is a whisk in the sand beside them; their fan is nowhere to be seen.

Of course, He Xuan knows who they are. It is the same person as before, disguised by his own mind. He cannot bear to look at the result of his failures. He is a man who will see his plans through to the end, no matter the cost, but it doesn’t mean he has to appreciate the result.

“Look at me.” It says. It’s utterly toneless. Lifeless. “Look at me now.”

He Xuan looks.

It flicks through hundreds of forms in a moment, all familiar. There are ones he has walked with, talked with, sat and drank with. There are forms he has danced with, in a moment of weakness, and forms he had argued with, when he couldn’t bring himself to hide his care.

There are forms of helplessness. A night spent drinking that went wrong. A hunt that turned sour, slashing across their pretty little cheek. 

The last night they spent together, with them kneeling before their brother’s dead head.

And all of a sudden, it stops. Finally, it lets him close his eyes and let out a shuddering sob as he feels his knees hit the sand.

“Won’t you miss me?” They ask, before the black water claims him too.

*

When He Xuan falls awake, it is to the feeling of water soaking through his clothes, with a startled Shi Qingxuan blinking awake beside him. He pushes himself up on his arms, takes a few shuddering breaths, before letting himself collapse back into the soaking sheets. He tries to glance around the room to reaffirm where he is, but he finds it impossible to focus on anything but the warm mass beside him, the soothing words going right through his skull.

He closes his eyes and lets it wash over him, before he startles to full awareness and shoots back up again. Shi Qingxuan, startled a second time, grasps at his shoulders, as if they want to shake him.

“Xuan-er?” They ask, and He Xuan represses a shudder. Her voice echoes in his head, even now. His heart pangs with something unnamable; perhaps once it would have been grief, but now it is closer to acceptance. “What happened?”

“Bad dream.” He says, his voice gruff. He swallows around nothing, looking down to where his hands clench in the sheets. Loosening them in surprise, he only just realised that they’re sodden. “Water?”

“You must have pulled it from the lake.” They explain, blinking down at the sheets. And then they laugh, a delicate thing. “I think you wet the bed.”

Despite himself, He Xuan manages a half-smile. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” They ask. He Xuan shakes his head immediately; he doesn’t think he could put it into words if he tried. They hum, and gently lay him back down again, tossing the soaked blankets to the floor. “Come on, let’s try to sleep again.”

Even as they lie there, neither close their eyes. Maybe they feel exposed by their sheets discarded on the floor. Or maybe they are soothed by the gentle sound of birds crooning from out in the forests, quiet enough not to be disruptive, but loud enough to echo with the slight eeriness that is typical of the transition from late night to early morning. There is something dependable in the repetition.

He Xuan tenses for a moment, before forcibly loosening himself again. Then, in an act of boldness, he pulls Shi Qingxuan closer, his hands curling into gentle fists in their clothes. As if on auto-pilot, Shi Qingxuan brings their palm up against his chest, a reassuring weight. Their legs weave themselves together.

Moving his arm, he runs his fingers through their hair, gently easing out a few of the knots, until he rests upon their neck. He makes no further attempt to brush it out, knowing it’s far too tangled from sleep and that it’d only hurt the both of them in the struggle. But he keeps it there still, a comforting warmth against his tingling fingers. It allows him to feel the vibrations from Shi Qingxuan’s throat as they start humming again, this time a longer, unfamiliar song. It’s lighthearted, not too fast but clearly one with words. They are lost in the minute space between them; only the melody matters anymore.

The song continues, looping and looping. It climbs up and down but always returns to its starting point. There is something relaxing in the repetition. 

It continues well into the morning, when they finally open their eyes for good. Shi Qingxuan blinks up at him, and he feels the last of his unease melt away.

Breakfast is overall a subdued affair, though the smile count is no lesser than normal. In fact, it is closer to lunch when they actually make it out of bed. Today it is Shi Qingxuan who moves around the kitchen, though their cooking isn’t all too pleasant, so they settle on a collection of fruit. They place it down on the table, and then look over it like a proud magpie. At this, He Xuan huffs a laugh and ignores when Shi Qingxuan tilts their head at him, confused.

He shakes his head. Shi Qingxuan does a dramatic slump, which earns him another laugh, and goes forward for the fruit, digging their thumbs into the fresh orange peel. They make a mess, of course; their peel jobs always end up in little pieces, rather than a tight-knit curl like He Xuan’s. 

“You’re getting it everywhere.” He says, the first time he’s spoken in hours. “Let me?”

Shi Qingxuan hands it over, watching as he strips it back with years worth of practice. “Jiejie used to like oranges.” He explains. “And every Sunday morning, we would go orange picking together. There was an orchard nearby. We’d always sneak in.”

“Were you ever caught?” Shi Qingxuan asks, fascinated. Subconsciously, they lean forward, halfway across the table without realising.

He Xuan smiles. “No. But there were some near misses. She taught me how to peel oranges.”

Then, they look down at his hands, where he’s splitting it into two halves. “Wow, so quick!” They exclaim. They open their mouth as He Xuan holds an orange slice out to them, accepting with a large smile.

“You really care for me, mm?” They say. He Xuan swallows, already feeling heat rise from beneath his cold skin. He casts his gaze back down to the table, and pretends he can’t see how delighted they look.

“Of course.” He replies. “Eat.”

He thrusts another slice forwards, before putting one in his own mouth. Neither of them talk for a moment as they focus on the sweet sensation, juice spraying across their tongue.

“These are good.” Shi Qingxuan eventually says. “Another?”

The morning continues like that, until they move outside. He Xuan grabs their blankets from the bed and brings them outside to dry in the warm sun. Shi Qingxuan settles in their usual spot beside their favourite flowers, going through and tending them. Usually, He Xuan would spend this time fishing for their lunch, but this time around, they talk him through what they’re doing as he sits on the ground besides them.

At first, he simply watches, not saying much at all. It’s Shi Qingxuan’s chatter that fills the open air, as He Xuan picks at the flowers they discard to make them into something. He twists the stalks until they come together to hold in a circle, before adding more and more to his eventually heavy crown. 

“And that one’s my favourite. I always liked the blue-” They say, as they move over to the next patch. The words wash over He Xuan, soothing like waves lapping at his feet. He feels a small smile appear on his face, and can’t find it in himself to smooth it away. When Shi Qingxuan glances over, they beam even brighter.

“It always reminded me of ge , so I thought I’d grow some.” They say. He Xuan keeps smiling, and they breathe out a breath, slumping a bit as they do. “I wonder whether he’d be proud.”

“He’d better be.” He Xuan murmurs. Though his tone is dark, Shi Qingxuan laughs as they trim another flower. He grabs it before it can fall to the floor. “You’re doing well.”

“Am I?” They wonder. “I’m… Not what I used to be.”

“Do you need to be?” He says. He turns his gaze away, looking at the flowers that surround them. “Look at the life you’ve made. That we built together. Should an old life control your new one?”

“Mm!” They hum. “You make a sound point!”

“Of course I do.” He Xuan replies, shuffling closer. “Look here a moment-” They do, and He Xuan places his crown of severed flowers and drooping leaves upon their head- “There you go. Fits you perfectly.”

For a second, Shi Qingxuan’s mouth just opens and closes, before they grin again, warmth spreading across their cheeks. In the light of late summer, they almost seem to glow.

The plague of his nightmares finally fades away as Shi Qingxuan's happiness floods into him, filling him until it can’t help but spill over.

*

Finally, in that afternoon, they go swimming. Slowly, for the past few months, they have steadily been building up Shi Qingxuan’s stamina. For the first few weeks, they had been able to do little more than tread water, and even that had been a struggle. 

But they’ve gotten better. They’ve built up mobility well, despite them still clinging to He Xuan as they first enter, crying out about the cold. He Xuan doesn’t feel it, so he lets them cling to his side until they feel comfortable enough in themselves to let go.

Currently, they float together, side by side. Shi Qingxuan looks at him through strands of soaking hair, ignoring as water droplets run down their face from where they had splashed him when they entered the lake. He Xuan, not much drier, focuses on keeping the currents gentle; only the surface ripples in the slightest breeze.

“It’s colder today.” They complain. Then, they turn to him with a gleam in their eye. “You’ll let me freeze?”

He Xuan, through restraint instilled in him from his many years by Hua Cheng’s side, manages not to sigh, nor roll his eyes, or express any of his fond exasperation. “Come here.” He replies instead, holding out his arm. Shi Qingxuan cheers and moves closer, before thrusting themselves into his arms.

“Come on, warm me up.” They say. This close, He Xuan can hear their teeth chatter. Can feel the goosebumps across their skin. “I hate this part.”

“You say this every time, and yet it doesn’t dissuade you from swimming.”

“Because it’s fun! And I get to cuddle you, haha.”

“You get to cuddle me anyway.” He Xuan points out, frowning down into their hair. “And I’m dead. I’m as cold as it gets.”

“No, no, Xuan-er is very warm!” Shi Qingxuan protests. “You’re always warm when I touch you anyway.”

He Xuan, despite their close proximity, pretends he hears nothing. No such blasphemy will be said around him. Black Water Sinking Ships? Flustered? Unheard of.

“Would you like to make a wish?” He diverts instead. Shi Qingxuan brings their head of his neck to look at him, confusion clear on their drenched features.

“A wish?”

“On the arowanas.”

“You brought your fish with you when we moved?” Shi Qingxuan asks. They peer into the dark water, despite not being able to see a thing. “How did I miss this? Have we been eating your pets?”

“There isn’t much on them to eat.” He Xuan says. “I can show you, if you want, but I wouldn’t touch them. They’re poisonous.”

“Xuan’er brought his bone fish with him to our house…” Shi Qingxuan says, a little breathless, though it might be from the exertion. They cling on tighter as they say, “Come on, show me! I’m curious now.” 

He nods and calls a few forth. Only seconds go by before one sticks its head above the surface. Shi Qingxuan startles, flinching backwards, before laughing lightly and moving back to where they were before.

“Ooh, they’re bigger than I thought they’d be.” They say, looking at them in fearful reverence. “Can you pet them?”

“Yes.” He Xuan replies. “It’s just bone. You’re not missing much.”

“You can wish on them?”

“They’re lucky.” He says. “So you can wish on them now.”

Shi Qingxuan forgets their earlier hesitance and laughs loudly. “Is that how it works now?”

“Mn.” He Xuan replies sincerely. “It works however I want it to work. So you can make a wish.”

“You’re putting me on the spot!” They claim, though stop to think about it, lifting a hand to their chin. Swimming in place, they turn themselves in a small circle as they look around for inspiration, before their gaze lands on He Xuan again, and they grin.

“I know!” They declare. “I want Xuan’er to give me a kiss.”

He Xuan freezes, waiting for his brain to kick back into action. As his mouth hangs open, Shi Qingxuan laughs again. Finally, he manages to close it, though he can’t quite fight off the blush as he says, “You’ve said it out loud. It won’t come true now.”

“Aren’t you the one who made the rules?” Shi Qingxuan pouts, moving closer to him again. “Come on, can’t you change it? I really, really want to kiss you!”

He Xuan stays still for another few moments, and eventually, they go to move away.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to-”

He brings his hand up to their jaw, silencing them. A thumb runs over their cold lips, an ashen colour now from the cold. Their pupils are blown, with a mix of desire and expectation covering their features. 

Finally, he leans forward and captures their lips in a kiss.

It didn’t last long. Just a simple thing, and yet, when he pulls away, Shi Qingxuan looks the happiest he’s ever seen them. Shi Qingxuan beams at him, before leaving wet kisses all over his cheeks and nose. He can’t even escape their hold, from where they’ve wrapped their arms around his neck.

Honestly, he wouldn’t want to regardless. He will keep them both afloat, even if his face is in flames.

“I’m done, I’m done.” Shi Qingxuan eventually sighs, resting their head on his shoulder again. They absentmindedly watch the bone fish. “Do you wanna go inside? I’m too tired to swim today. I’ll sit on the pier with your fishies.”

“We can go in.” He agrees, holding onto them as he swims over to the grassy bank. Teasing, he asks, “Do you want me to carry you in?”

Shi Qingxuan’s eyes gleam, but he’s unable to see it. “Of course I do.” It seems their plan had worked all along. 

*

They swim the next day, and the next. Sometimes, it’ll end as it had done previously: with them cuddling in their bed as they warm up together, pressing lips against every inch of skin. Other times, it will end with Shi Qingxuan perched on the docks, wanting to feel the cool of the air without the exertion.

Today, it ends in a water fight. Shi Qingxuan had been doing well and set off swimming a few laps. They still splashed as they swam slightly, though much less than before. 

As He Xuan watches them swim, he thinks to himself, I wonder whether he knows just how beautiful he is. He keeps the words locked under his tongue out of fear that voicing them would scare them away, like a fish that darts the moment you get too close.

Still, they turn and look at him from across the lake, beaming as they make to wave. They look around for a second, as if thinking, before moving closer again. A compromise, He Xuan heads over too. 

The moment they’re in arms reach of each other, He Xuan feels the cool chill of water across his face as Shi Qingxuan splashes at him with everything they have. Despite himself, He Xuan splutters, spitting out the water that managed to get into his mouth. Shi Qingxuan looks utterly delighted with themselves.

“Shi Qingxuan.” He Xuan says, warning.

They laugh, loud and echoing into the open air of the evening. “Did I get you? Did I catch you off guard?”

“Don’t pick fights you’re not willing to finish.” He says, before splashing back. Even without using his powers, it’s clear he has the upper hand, so Shi Qingxuan squeaks and desperately swims away. For a few moments, he lets them, putting some space between them both as they desperately rushing to get away.

And then, He Xuan sinks under the water, letting the lake go still. He can feel Shi Qingxuan’s frantic kicking, until they slow and turn when they realise the assault has halted. He waits a second, two, before they continue again, this time swimming for the shore. He grins.

With the slightest of his powers, he propels himself forward and clasps his hand around their ankle, pushing himself above the water just as they begin to shriek. He doesn’t tug them too far down, only enough to submerge until their chin, before he releases his hold, but the effect is enough.

When Shi Qingxuan spots him, they splash him again, giving a playful glare. He Xuan simply smiles.

“Aish, so mean! What would you have done if I drowned?”

“That wouldn’t happen. I wouldn’t let it.” He Xuan promises. Weirdly enough, and despite the cool chill of the lake, Shi Qingxuan manages to blush. Huh. “What kind of water demon would I be, if I let my love drown in our home.”

This time, Shi Qingxuan seems to cough. He Xuan frowns, swimming to their side to better support them; they cling to his shoulders like it’s the only thing keeping them alive. Worried, He Xuan moves them out of the water, swimming over to the convenient pier.

With Shi Qingxuan sitting and coughing up their lungs, and He Xuan floating by their legs, they finally manage to clear their throat.

“You okay now?”

“Yes.” They croak, their eyes still a little glassy. They sneeze then, and He Xuan laughs.

“Let’s get you inside.” He Xuan hums, pushing himself up beside them. He places a warm kiss against their forehead, before shuffling to the side and climbing up entirely. Holding out his hand, together they both walk back to their home and settle down for a comforting night’s rest.

*

He Xuan wakes up to the sound of Shi Qingxuan’s harsh coughing.

He shoots up immediately, opening his eyes to the sight of their blotchy, red face and hunched over form as they seem to struggle to keep everything down. Before he can even think, he’s out of the bed and fetching a bucket; just in time to watch as they hurl up yesterday's meal, and then dry heave when nothing else comes out.

Settling by their side, He Xuan runs a hand through their hair, pushing it back out of their forehead. Some of it is slick, coated with saliva and chunks of chewed up food, but he pays it no mind and pulls it back too. 

It’s an undignified scene as a whole, but it is far from the worst he’s ever seen them. Although their skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, and their throat sounds like that of an eighty-year-old mortal, their eyes still retain coherency, even in this. More importantly, their hand seems to find his, even as they clench it like a wife in childbirth.

When they seem to stabilise for a moment, he sends a pulse of spiritual energy through to them. After a few seconds, it transfers successfully and he continues the flow, watching as they slowly begin to slow their breathing again. Their eyes take on a tired look now, as the pain begins to lessen.

Sometimes, on particularly bad days, He Xuan would transfer spiritual energy to Shi Qingxuan’s legs to help lessen the tension. Although it wasn’t a permanent solution, it helped them get through the worst of it. It’s the same logic now; lessening the pain even though it won't solve it forever.

He Xuan supposes he’ll just have to stay by their side, until nothing can hurt them ever again.

“Are you feeling better?” He asks, though no answer comes. Shi Qingxuan has their eyes closed, scrunched shut as if attempting to block out the light. With a wave of his hand, the curtains fling themselves closed from where they’d been forgotten the previous night. Seeing their unresponsive state, he changes his tone, turning much more gentle in an effort to get through. “A-Xuan, A-Xuan, come on now.” 

He tugs at them gently, positioning them on his shoulder. His cold skin should help, cooling their temperature to something less feverish. At first, he makes simple hushing sounds, but then recalls a melody that used to be sung to him by his mother, and then his sister, as their parents got old.

He remembers singing it for his fianceé once, only once, and the panic from then relights itself now. In her final moments, she had been beautiful but she had been scared, too. It’s that same fear he notices in Shi Qingxuan, when the pain becomes too much.

Gripped with the force of his terror, he struggles to keep the panicked note out of his tone. “I’ve got you. Breathe for me, A-Xuan, I’ve got you.”

He repeats that until they fall asleep, their breathing finally steadying. He lays them down and fetches a bucket of cool, clean water, as well as a towel, and begins cleaning the sweat off of their forehead. He leaves one cold towel on their forehead, whilst grabbing another to try and tidy them up; it’s been so long since he was sick, but he still recalls hating the grimy feeling, and even worse, hating not being able to do anything about it.

The Reverend didn’t curse him with sickness often. He Xuan was known to suffer through anything given to him without a single complaint, even if he internally disliked the feeling. But his family were often ill— never quite fatally, but enough so that they’d have to spend any funds they had acquired on medicine, to be on the safe side— and the Reverend rejoiced in watching him overwork himself to keep them all afloat. 

As Shi Qingxuan sleeps, a frown still present on their brow, He Xuan sits and thinks of the future. It would look so desolate without them, so bleak… Something not worth living.

Even without the Reverend, the trail of death follows so closely behind him, and this is one thing he refuses to lose. Perhaps, it may kill him but he would let it, if it meant finding a way that they could live a single more day. 

When Black Water sets his mind to a task, he will accomplish it, no matter the consequences. If Black Water wants you dead, you had better say your goodbyes.

And if He Xuan wants you to live, what other choice do you have?

*

The moment Shi Qingxuan is asleep, He Xuan slips out of their bed and heads to the kitchen. Without even thinking of it, he makes his way through, collecting ingredients as he goes. Before him, his spread of jars and bowls and cod lie on the counters, head and all; its scales glisten as the remnants of ice melt and drip onto the wooden surface.

He is too distracted to even notice the smell of dead fish that hangs in the air. It’s a wonder that Shi Qingxuan— sick Shi Qingxuan, who can hardly breathe without choking— won’t be cured from the stench alone. 

He snatches one of the jars, opening it to be greeted with a wave of putrid vinegar. Without flinching, he grabs the mustard greens, not even wiping his hand before taking a knife and dicing them. Slice, slice, the sound of the knife echoes through the room, overpowering the roar of flames behind him. Louder than the sizzle of oil, and the crash of waves in his head. Slice, slice, the sound of metal against wood; slicing too hard, or slicing too long, and the sound turns harsher, like rusted gears grinding together. Or the sounds bones make when they’re stepped on and crunched into dust.

As he slices, he wonders what would happen if slipped and cut his fingers. Cut them off entirely. One slip and he’s bleeding everywhere, red mixing with green, until everything is eventually red. It keeps coming, spouting from him like a water fountain. Or it wouldn’t, because he’s dead, not living, and nothing would come from him at all.

There hasn’t been blood in his body for a long time, and yet he breathes easy. Revenge hadn’t managed to make him live again, and love might be what finally kills him.

He throws the greens into the pan, ignoring as everything hisses back at him. Oil jumps out like a lashing snake, to which he ignores its venomous bite. Instead, he stands there for a few moments, uncomfortably close, until it manages to tame itself under his harsh glare.

Then, he fetches the fish. Grabs it by the nape, making a small incision which slowly grows as he pushes down, the knife flowing through the thing like swans glide through the water. It falls in two, one in each hand. He squeezes it as if to make it squirm. It’s dead, cold and slimy in his hands.

The knife is harsh as it scrapes the last of the scales. It’s biting and jagged, leaving small cuts into the fish from where He Xuan grew careless. In the end, he’s left with two piles; one of meat and one of shimmering scales. He takes the meat and replaces it in the pan, moving the greens to a pot. 

The meat turns from white to golden as it begins to flake apart, falling off the bone. He knows he could reanimate it now, shove a soul of a ghost into the thing and make it sentient. It would roll around in the pan screaming until He Xuan took pity on it, or it faded again.

He knows it’s dead, and he knows he’s the one who took its life. It was a small life, swimming in his lake, days and days of circles. It’s dead in the dish, and he wants to know whether it can give life. You cook food for a purpose, not enjoyment. You cook food to sustain yourself. If he cooks it long enough, will it sustain Shi Qingxuan forever?

Would they live forever?

He finds the knife again, coating it in the fish’s slick and the mustard green’s vinegar, and dices spring onions. Back and forth, back and forth, he slices and slices. He finds garlic too, mashes it into chunks, mashes and mashes until it’s nothing. He throws them together, covering out the smell of dead fish; drowning it, smothering it, until it’s onions and garlic, onions and garlic and the vinegar that’s soaked into his palms.

The fish is golden, and he removes it from the pan and throws it in the pot. It’s dead eye still glistens back at him. He looks away.

From nowhere, water appears, filling the pot so everything is submerged. Drowning again. The water turns a murky colour, grey and cloudy from the fish. He removes the pan and replaces it with the pot, letting it simmer.

Taking the taro, he slices it. Slices and slices into thin chunks, the way he would have done with the fish if he didn’t need the bones. Bones are good for recovery. A-Die always said you recovered faster if you cooked with the bones. His sister would laugh and say that the fish eyes were the best part.

Shi Qingxuan doesn’t like fish eyes.

He takes the tofu and cuts it too, little white squares. The taro cooks until golden. When the pot has finished simmering, he throws in the two. A splash of salt. Only for a few minutes more does he leave it, until everything threatens to boil over.

He takes it off the heat. Leaves it to cool. Spoons out a bowl, grabbing the meat and the vegetables. He coats it in the soup when he notices he’s left too much in the pot.

Finally, he takes his hands and thrusts them into the burning bowl, feeling for the fish bones that still remain. They have to be removed, or Shi Qingxuan will choke. The eye still watches him from the pot. He focuses on his hands, which are turning a light pink. It’s the most alive he’s looked in years. His skin is burning but it will fade within the next minute. His body is too cold to sustain damages like burns. The water washes them all away.

When he’s satisfied, he places his pile of bones with the pile of fish scales. He takes the bowl— his elixir of life— and delivers it to Shi Qingxuan’s room.

He hopes it will keep them alive forever.

*

As He Xuan walks into the room again, he makes his steps loud enough for Shi Qingxuan to stir. By the time he’s finished settling by their bed, they’ve already opened their hazy eyes and began blinking as they try to clear the sleep-fog away. When they manage to focus on He Xuan, they pull up a weak smile, though it fades into a grimace when they try to push2 themselves into a sitting position.

Before they can ask, He Xuan is there assisting them, moving the pillows so their back doesn’t rest against the unforgivingly hard wall.

“Did you cook?” They ask, voice croaky as they spy the steaming bowl. “Ah!-” They lament- “I won’t even be able to taste it!”

“Then I’ll cook it again.” He Xuan promises. “Every day, until you’re sick of it.”

Shi Qingxuan looks at him blearily, as if trying to make sense of what they heard. Eventually, it seems to click because they turn back and look at the food; whether the heat in their cheeks is from the fever or the fact that they’re flustered, it’s impossible to tell. 

“Are you gonna feed me or what?” They ask instead. He Xuan grabs the bowl and does so. He tries to keep the worry from their notice, but he thinks he lets it come through anyway, when Shi Qingxuan looks at him and frowns.

“What's wrong?” They ask, with a startling amount of coherency compared to this morning. It seems the spiritual energy helped more than he had realised.

“You’re the one who is sick,” He Xuan replies. “And yet it is still you trying to take care of me.”

“Do you want me to make you do more work?” Shi Qingxuan jokes. “Go! I want every fruit at my disposal. And every blanket you can find!”

“Too many blankets and then it’ll be you who melts into a puddle, Qingxuan.” He Xuan warns, though makes note of their symptoms. The soup had probably helped settle their stomach, and perhaps cleared some of the sniffling, though it hasn’t entirely removed the fever. That was the spiritual energy’s job, and even then, there’s only so much it can do.

“Haha.” Shi Qingxuan says. And then they’re shifting forwards again with urgency. He Xuan grabs at the bucket and thrusts it under them, though nothing comes up. After a few moments of rubbing their back, Shi Qingxuan slumps back against the wall again, letting out a series of heavy breaths. “This is horrible.” They decide. 

He Xuan hums in sympathy, letting another stream of spiritual energy connect them together. They sigh as it floods through them, probably leaving them feeling comfortably warm, even as it works to bring down the temperature of their burning forehead.

It takes a few more tries but Shi Qingxuan manages to finish the bowl and keep it down without retching. Then, with minimal coaxing, they are swayed to fall asleep again. The only thing they had asked for was that He Xuan stays with them the entire time, and makes sure he wraps their arm around them to keep them cosy.

To that pleading gaze, He Xuan had found it impossible to disagree.

So there he lies, staring up at the ceiling as the sun floats on by, with Shi Qingxuan pressed tightly against his side. He can feel their heat radiating from them, though he doesn’t send another burst of spiritual energy in case it overwhelms their body. 

When it feels safe to move again, he lifts his right arm— the one that Shi Qingxuan isn’t laid on top of— and lifts it to his forehead, stating Xie Lian’s communication array password.

Your Highness?

I’ve told you. You can call me Xie Lian.

And have Hua Cheng come back and destroy me?

He hears Xie Lian laugh over the array, which really means he’s sitting wherever he is and thinking very hard about laughing so it conveys across. 

Did you need something? Ghost City is fine.

No, I wanted to ask something of you.

He pauses here, unsure how to word it. Despite his debt to Hua Cheng, he had never quite managed to master the skill of asking for things; whether it was for assistance or even favours, he had never liked not being self-sufficient on his own. Even now, knowing that Xie Lian won’t take advantage of his weakness, it is hard to put it into words.

Oh?

I have heard there are ways of sharing spiritual energy. 

He feels the embarrassment roll of Xie Lian in waves.

You… Black Water, you came to ask me about kissing? Haven’t you…

No! He Xuan cries, and almost disturbs Shi Qingxuan from how hard he jolts. No! I wanted to ask about more… Permanent methods. Of linking two bodies together, so both… Both can cultivate. 

Oh. Xie Lian repeats, though this time his tone sounds somewhat emptier. Yes, I know about this. 

He Xuan doesn’t ask why.

Would you be able to teach me? 

He is met with silence. It stretches for minutes, though he can still feel Xie Lian in their connection. He lets it fall to the back of his mind, focusing on the form in front of him instead. Still swelteringly hot but at least sleeping peacefully now, soothed by He Xuan’s weight pulling them in. 

Shi Qingxuan is mortal. And in this moment, it is undeniable.

He Xuan’s heart is dead in his chest but Shi Qingxuan’s beats with life, the stuttering staccato off it echoing through to him. It swings between frantic and slow, as if their body cannot make its mind up on how to feel.

He Xuan looks at them and feels his soul fragment. Feels it break into two.

Xie Lian’s voice sounds across their connection.

I can. But you’d have to promise me.

What?

You won’t let yourself come to harm because of this.

What does it matter?

I’m serious.

He Xuan stays silent. If Xie Lian is truly worried, then the process must be arduous, or at least highly risky. Even as he thinks this, he knows he has already made up his mind.

I won’t let yourself be destroyed. I have seen what it can do and… I know it isn’t worth it, if you want it in the same capacity that I— if you want it to solve everything. 

It may be a solution but- Xie Lian pauses here, as if collecting his words- The person you’re trying to save wouldn’t be happy at what it cost you.

I understand. He Xuan says, and he means it as a promise. I will be careful with it. With myself.

Good . Xie Lian concedes. Somehow, over the array, it sounds distantly relieved. When Shi Qingxuan is feeling better, come visit Ghost City.

The connection shatters, leaving He Xuan there to stare at the ceiling as time floats on by. The last remnants of the lingering smell of fish finally begin to fade from the room. Shi Qingxuan’s snores take the forefront of his focus, as he stares up at the endless ceiling.

Distantly, he wonders just how Xie Lian saw through him so easily.

*

The next day, Shi Qingxuan seems to be on the mend. They eat in the morning, though it gets thrown up quite quickly. Later, however, they manage another bowl of soup that stays down, and take in reasonable amounts of water to start recovering from dehydration. Coherency comes easier too, helped along by frequent spiritual energy transfers— to lift their mood, He Xuan always makes sure to exaggerate the whole ordeal.

When Shi Qingxuan wakes, it’s to a kiss on their forehead. After they’ve eaten, He Xuan takes the bowl from their hands, before bringing them to his lips, where he plants a gentle kiss and lets his powers flow through him. As Shi Qingxuan walks from their bedroom to the garden, eager for some fresh air, He Xuan follows behind them in case they fall, and places little kisses down their neck whenever they take a pause against a wall.

When they bat him away, it’s playful; they always drag him back in again the next second anyway.

“Come on,” Shi Qingxuan murmurs. “Let me see my flowers again. And my pretty little sky.”

The next hour is spent sitting on their bench, Shi Qingxuan resting their head upon He Xuan’s shoulder. The sounds of nature rise around them again, when it becomes apparent they are no threat. It lulls Shi Qingxuan into a state of dazing, as He Xuan takes deep breath after breath and lets it flow through his entirety.

“Ah,” Shi Qingxuan sighs, an hour or so later. “I feel much better now.”

“Fresh air is good for you.” He Xuan agrees. A bitter taste comes over his tongue as he says, “No swimming for a while.”

Shi Qingxuan sighs again but nods. Then, they pout, poking at He Xuan’s shoulders. “I knew you’d say that. But I agree, if it means I’ll be able to actually taste your soup this time around.”

Shi Qingxuan stands and offers their hands to He Xuan, who is pulled to his feet. He Xuan casts them a confused look but Shi Qingxuan just grins. 

“Let's go for a walk!”

“Should we-”

“I don’t want to hear it!” They exclaim, childishly covering their ears. He Xuan can’t fight back his smile, so he ends up looking endlessly fond even as he tries to feign annoyance. Not that Shi Qingxuan notices, with how they’re marching off, expecting He Xuan to follow. “We won’t go far! Just into our woods… Maybe we can find a waterfall again! And we can always make an array to get home quickly if we need to.”

He Xuan should’ve known this was a battle he would lose. One look and he’s already reforming his strict ‘stay inside forever and never get hurt’ policy.

“Okay.” He says, and Shi Qingxuan lights up like a blazing bonfire.

*

The hike is hardly difficult but it still takes them some time. Shi Qingxuan walks slowly, with their arms folded behind their back like the elderly as they peer up into the trees. He Xuan makes sure they follow a trail he’s travelled before, and offers his arm when there’s some particularly uneven areas, despite him having done his best to avoid the arduous tracks. He holds their walking stick in the other.

As he expected, they make it to the waterfall quickly, and Shi Qingxuan lets out an excited little sound upon seeing it. They rush forward as quickly as they can before leveraging themselves to the floor, sitting upon a rock. Leaning forward, they let the water run through their fingers for a few seconds until they pull their knees back to their chest and begin working off their shoes.

“Xuan’er!” They call, when they notice He Xuan standing behind them, not doing much of anything. “Come here! We can dip our toes in.”

He Xuan goes, taking off his shoes with ease. Shi Qingxuan struggles with one shoe but eventually manages it, grinning triumphantly. The water is cool when they submerge their feet, though not too startling to adjust to. Still, Shi Qingxuan complains, and pouts when He Xuan casts them a look.

“What, it is cold!” They pout. But they soon get back to splashing, unbothered by it. Then, they cast him a calculating look. “You seem to have known where we were going… Did you bring us here?”

“You asked to see a waterfall.” He says. It’s loud behind them, so they almost have to shout at each other. Shi Qingxuan pays it no mind, of course, and speaks loudly over it, as usual.

“Ah, He-Xiong, you’re so good! This is very nice.” They say, giving another little sigh as they look back into the water. The shape of He Xuan beside them ripples, becoming a mess of blacks and browns against the otherwise pale rocks. “I wish we could stay here forever.”

He Xuan’s throat clenches and he swallows to try and rid himself of the lump that’s found itself in his throat. He says nothing for a few moments before managing a quiet hum. With a faraway gaze, Shi Qingxuan continues staring at nothing.

The moment ends in an instant, when Shi Qingxuan blinks back to themselves and looks back at He Xuan lightly, as if they hadn’t just put his entire world in jeopardy.

“Do you want to go back now?”

“So soon?” He Xuan asks, slightly startled.

“Of course!” Shi Qingxuan says, pushing themselves to their feet. Quickly, He Xuan steps out of the river to help them stand, lest they trip on the slippery rocks. “Thank you! If I stay here too long, you’ll have to drag me back home, so you should be content to take me whilst I’m still willing.”

He Xuan feels much of the same. 

“Besides, this place will still be here. We’ll always be able to come back.”

Walking away, they leave He Xuan to cast one last glance at the place before he follows.

“If you say so.” He responds, and neither of them say anything more until they’re back within the thick of trees.

“Why don’t they touch?” Shi Qingxuan asks, back to staring at the sky. They’re looking at the trees, each having a small gap between them, just large enough that you could stick your hand through and reach for the stars.

“The trees probably don’t want to hurt themselves, or one another.” He Xuan says. Observations have been made in texts, yet nobody solidly knows why; he thinks of his own theories. “If the wind blows too hard, and their branches get intertwined, it could lead to them snapping off entirely, or at least stunted growth.”

“Hmm.” Shi Qingxuan says. “Maybe they’re just shy! Don’t want to touch in case it’s too forward, and all.” They add, moving closer to nudge He Xuan’s arm. “Sounds like someone I know.”

“I’m not shy.”

“Mn, you’ve opened up a bit!” Shi Qingxuan agrees, in a twisted sort of way. “But you used to blush no matter what I said. Now I have to work for it! Aish, life gets harder the longer you go on.”

Despite himself, He Xuan blushes. It takes Shi Qingxuan a second to notice, but when they do, they let out a peal of laughter.

“Ah, that was an easy one! I didn’t even say anything!”

“You’ve gone and proved your hypothesis incorrect.” He Xuan says instead, staring at the floor. After a second, he moves his gaze back to Shi Qingxuan, who is already looking at him.

“Thank you.” They say, suddenly sincere. It makes He Xuan want to choke. “For taking care of me! It was… It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Wasn’t as bad as before.”

“Before?”

“The streets aren’t exactly clean.” They laugh, though it’s a broken thing. “But it’s okay! I’m living here now, with you. Much better! Always warm.” They grin, this time more genuine.

For lack of anything to say to their tragedy— the one forged by his own two hands— he says, “I’m glad I could take care of you.”

He means, I’m glad you let me in and didn’t push me away. I’m glad I have you. I’m glad you’re here with me, and will stay until the end of time.

He says I love you, and means oh, please, never leave me again.

*

When they arrive home, it's with Shi Qingxuan pressing themselves against He Xuan's side, as they valiantly attempt to silence their puffing breaths. With enough manoeuvring, He Xuan gets them seated at the table and immediately bustles off to boil a pot of tea.

This way, he can leave Shi Qingxuan to pull themselves together. Feeling weak in front of others is never pleasant, He Xuan knows, so he gives them this small mercy.

He throws another log on the fire, stocking it until he deems it adequate. Smoke drifts through the air, the comforting smell of home, though one with a slight weight to it. It works well to calm the nerves. He Xuan takes a deep breath before returning to them.

"Hah," They say, another little puff of air escaping them. They imperceptibly slump towards the table. He Xuan settles and begins pouring two cups. "Maybe we shouldn't have walked so far, hm?"

"We know for next time." He Xuan smiles. "Come, drink up. Your favourite."

Shi Qingxuan reaches forward eagerly, cupping their hands around the bowl as if to warm themselves. Now that He Xuan looks, it's clear they're half frozen. The wind is always unkind to them, especially now that it's edging closer to winter. The seasons' change is rough on everyone but the cold is a special kind of torture for them.

"Very nice." They agree, taking another sip. "I don't feel sick anymore. Surprisingly."

"I suppose the spiritual energy worked it out of your system. And the fresh air must have helped."

"At the expense of my leg."

He Xuan freezes. "You can rest now. There's nothing that particularly needs doing-" At Shi Qingxuan's dry look, he amends- "Nothing that can't wait."

"Of course you'd say that." Shi Qingxuan says. "Look at my garden! It's almost a jungle out there. I can't let all my plants just die!"

"It'll be winter soon." He says what they both know. "They'll be dying soon anyway."

"I know," They reply, voice incredibly soft. "But I'd like to have them around a little longer."

He Xuan casts a look out of the window, to which he can see a few bushes and the vines that scale the side of the house. Most of the flowers have already begun to drop off, though the majority of leaves from trees remain. From this morning, he remembers the place being vibrant, though that might simply have been because of Shi Qingxuan's presence there.

He also knows that Shi Qingxuan has been trying their damndest not to let their flowers die, going so far as to challenge nature itself.

With this thought, He Xuan makes up his mind.

"I will garden for you." He says. Although this is Shi Qingxuan's project, he refuses to let it go to waste. "In the morning, you can boss me around for a bit. I know you like to."

Shi Qingxuan grins, then frowns. "The morning only?"

"Mn, His Highness has asked for a meeting. Though he said it would be quick, with our current situation."

"Hm." Shi Qingxuan sighs, clearly unhappy, though they brighten again when they think of the rest of his sentence. "You do know me well; I love ordering you about! My own little servant for the day."

"And you say I never treat you to anything." He Xuan teases.

"No, no. My Xuan'er treats me very well." Shi Qingxuan smiles, face serene as they spread the most simple truth. Something about it all gets under He Xuan's skin, and he turns from white to red in a matter of moments. "Ahh, you're so cute! Every time!!" They grin, reaching across the table to grab at his cheeks, even as they wince when their leg knocks against hardwood.

"You're the sweetest thing, I swear it."

He Xuan takes another sip of tea, and resolutely vows to never open his eyes or ears again, so he won't be attacked by Shi Qingxuan's sweet talk.

*

He Xuan sets off to the Ghost City the following afternoon, after going to bed with Shi Qingxuan. It was comfortable between them; He Xuan missed this warmth, the kind that didn't feel like he was burning up from the inside. He's sure Shi Qingxuan is happy about the arrangement too, as they're particularly clingy about the whole affair.

Still, managing to get them out of bed is a chore and getting them dressed is impossible, so they end up sitting out in the garden together, both in their innermost clothes. He Xuan's are soft enough that they keep snagging on thorns; Shi Qingxuan's tinkling laugh sounds every time, even as they make him move his hand over to their lips so they can kiss the smallest scrape.

“All better, thank you." They say each time. He Xuan turns again, almost the colour of roses. He wonders why he can't stop blushing anymore. Then, their voice would turn more serious as they began giving out orders again. "Cut it back above the leaf. No! Higher! Down a bit! And tilt it a little bit, can't cut it straight across-"

All in all, He Xuan enjoyed every moment of it.

Walking into Ghost City again feels like a death sentence somehow, with how sombre the atmosphere around the place is.

In truth, he hates being here when Xie Lian is here. The place is enthused with misery, even as His Highness attempts to keep things bright. But with Yin Yu missing, who had become a staple of this place to He Xuan, the place feels a bit scarce, unhelped by the massive whole Hua Chengzhu himself has obviously left in the place.

Now, He Xuan never thought he'd miss Hua Cheng particularly much, or care if he disappeared for stretching periods of time. But with Xie Lian looking like a kicked puppy the moment no one is talking to him, it's hard not to wish he would come back even a day early, so that miserable look can be wiped away.

He Xuan doesn't say as such. Instead, he offers a sympathetic smile and a way to take his mind off it for a while.

"You said there was an array?" He asks, as if it hasn't been what he's solely focused on for the past two days. 

"There is." Xie Lian nods, and beckons for He Xuan to follow him deeper into Paradise Manor, supposedly where the library is. 

He Xuan never cared to map out the place particularly well. He knew the general layout: dining room, kitchen, pavilions; all the places he appeared in most. Other places he could guess, like the bedrooms being located on the East side so they could watch the sun come up. Those sappy kinds of things that Hua Cheng always liked, or thought Xie Lian would appreciate so prepared them in advance.

"It involves the golden core, where spiritual energy is contained. Yours is intact?-" He Xuan nods, and Xie Lian sighs, relieved- "Then this should work, if nothing goes wrong."

The process involves taking the core and halving it, splitting each between two people. Or more, if you are particularly self-sacrificing." Xie Lian explains. "There is a method where... You can give your core up entirely. And they would have the full extent of their powers, plus whatever they managed to build on their own. This is... The last case resort. I would speak against this entirely."

"What would it do?"

"It'd leave you entirely mortal, for a start. Nothing would be solved." Xie Lian says in the tone of someone who has spent hours debating the benefits and drawbacks of the entire process. "With your core, I think it should go smoothly. You're a Calamity, and Shi Qingxuan has felt the touch of spiritual energy before, so they should be receptive to it."

"There were no issues when they were sick. I performed the transfer multiple times and it helped."

"That's good." Xie Lian nods, brows drawn together in thought. They come up to a set of wide doors, which swing open to reveal a grand library. It's larger than He Xuan's entire bedroom back in Black Water Manor. Figures.

Xie Lian heads towards the back, where a table stacked with books stands. He settles in the corner, so He Xuan takes a seat beside him, watching as he begins to shuffle things about. It's a sort of organised chaos, and he doesn't dare touch anything.

"Here." Xie Lian says, and hands him a book. "This one outlines the process; what we should prepare, what we'll do, everything like that. I need you to make sure you're happy with it. And that Shi Qingxuan is happy with it.'

He Xuan nods.

"They do know you're doing this, right?"

He Xuan, predictably, says nothing.

It isn't that he doesn't want to tell them. It's that, right now, everything feels fragile. Like it's on the edge of a tipping point, hanging off a cliff with a jagged demise waiting at the bottom of it. Though he knows that's hardly the case— true, inescapable misfortune should not catch up to Shi Qingxuan yet, not for a few years— it still feels so close. So daunting.

When you're immortal, time passes strangely. Sometimes he blinks and an entire day has gone by without him realising. He's lived so long that a few years feels like nothing, and he's not sure how Shi Qingxuan copes with it. Copes with the feeling of being alive again.

For He Xuan, being dead was perhaps one of the best things to happen to him. No more worries about putting food on the table. No more worries about getting a job, or caring for his family. Death was a freedom he welcomed in the end, and he knew what to do from the start.

But, in Shi Qingxuan's case, it's nothing of the same. They are made to live; every action sings with it. The way they walk with as much of a beat in their step as they can manage, head held high. How they sing to the flowers when they forget He Xuan can hear, or how sometimes they'll sing folk songs loudly anyway, and laugh when He Xuan grows shy of their bawdy lyrics.

They have a garden. They miss people when they don't venture into the world for a while. Sometimes, they manage to have the most forgiving of souls.

"You must tell them before we go ahead with this, He Xuan." Xie Lian orders, voice stern. "Just like what was done to you, if you mess with this without their knowledge... It's a violation. I think you’ll understand that."

"I will. I do." He Xuan promises. He knows he will have to talk about it, and he gears himself up for the conversation every moment that he can. "He needs to know. But I... I don't know whether I can take it if he says no."

"Talk it through and it'll be fine." Xie Lian advises. “I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end but don't leave it until it's too late."

They spent the next hour in silence as they skim through book after book. He Xuan researches as Xie Lian takes note of what things he may need for the set-up. 

"Ah, the incense has gone out." Xie Lian says on the mark of the first hour. It was burning for a while before he came. "You should go home now. I've kept you long enough."

Looking at Xie Lian, with messy hair from running his hands through it and a pale complexion borne only from anxiety, He Xuan feels a deep sympathy. Suddenly, it hits him just how much Xie Lian has done. He throws himself into a bow so he can't begin to see how his eyes have started watering. "Your Highness, you have helped me beyond belief."

"None of this now. Up, up!" He urges, placing a hand on He Xuan's elbow. "And it's 'Xie Lian', you know that! No formalities between friends."

"Hua Cheng would have my head." He Xuan insists, though rises, blinking rapidly. Xie Lian doesn't say a word on the state of him.

"Well, I'll make sure he doesn't say a thing." Xie Lian smiles, in the sad way he always does when Hua Cheng is mentioned. He Xuan can't bring himself to regret it. He repeats, "You'd better get home now. I'll watch over Ghost City for a while. You stay with Qingxuan."

"Of course." He Xuan agrees, before turning to go draw an array on an empty wall.

"And He Xuan?"

"Yes?"

"Send my well wishes."

*

More and more of He Xuan's time is spent in Ghost City for preparation. Although it's hardly anything compared to the trial Shi Qingxuan went through, it still wears him down. The place feels like it's sucking the life out of him, and when he returns to Qingxuan's arms, they always ask him what's wrong. What's the matter with him. Where have you been?

And He Xuan will swallow the words out of fear of being pushed away, when all he wants is to be held for a moment longer.

Today, in Paradise Manor— where nothing feels like paradise, and a special kind of torture instead, actually— they're reviewing the texts for the fifth or so time to assure they haven't missed anything. They haven't, of course, and so the task is mind-numbing, but both of them understand its importance.

"I asked Feng Xin and Mu Qing to accompany us for the transfer." Xie Lian essentially says. That's what they've taken to calling it: the transfer. Not the array, which is too vague. Not the operation, which suggests something medical. The transfer, all clinical and distant and numb. "They'll provide the extra energy we need. And they're probably the most likely to not want to kill you on sight."

"Are you sure of that?" He Xuan replies, thinking back to how they've reacted to Hua Cheng in the past. Though he has only a fraction of his notoriety, killing a god still earns you quite the negative reputation for some reason. Dating one doesn't seem to bring it up any either.

"They'll keep in line if I tell them to behave." Xie Lian promises. For a moment, he looks entirely gleeful about it, before it fades back into his usual sad air again. "Have you told Shi Qingxuan yet?"

"No." He Xuan says. Xie Lian casts him a look, both sympathetic and chiding. He doesn't know how to reply.

"You need to."

"I know."

"You don't have long left." Xie Lian says. "It's almost ready."

"I know." He replies. If he was human, and needed to breathe, he feels like he'd be wheezing. His chest moves of its own accord anyway; up and down, up and down, out of his own control. "Tonight." He manages.

"Tonight, I'll do it." He promises.

The chance comes to him sooner than he expected. In fact, it comes to him entirely through absolutely no work of his own.

He returns home in the evening, as the sun sets. He's been getting home later during the final few days of organising. The lies he prepares wash over his tongue— I was helping Xie Lian in Ghost City, it's getting bad again, you know how it is this time of year, don't you?— and he swallows them down, ignoring the sour taste. He knows what he has to do.

Shi Qingxuan is sat on the bed when he comes in. He finds them after only a minute of searching, and his light smile melts away.

They are not angry, it seems, but an unease of sorts spreads through him regardless. The lines of their shoulders are tense, and their expression is unreadable. He Xuan expects this not to be a happy talk.

So He Xuan does what he always does, and rips the bandaid clean off. He is not one to postpone the inevitable, not when it's already started.

He used to be the master of doing the things he never wanted to do. In the past year, he's grown complacent. Soft. Shi Qingxuan looks at him, all heartbroken, and he feels his heart shatter again.

"I was at-"

"Ghost City, yes. I know. Every day, you are at Ghost City. Some days, I am certain you've spent more time there than here." Shi Qingxuan says. Their voice is raised, loud that it reverberates through the room. Loud enough that He Xuan flinches back, ever so slightly, as if to hide himself from it.

"I'm trying to-"

"Yes, you want to help him! Yes, it's rough there, and he's struggling, and I get that. Trust me, I do. I understand. But why... Why are you never here? And when you are, you don't talk about it. You don't talk much about anything.

"I can feel you drawing into yourself. I don't know where you go and you won't let me bring you out."

They sigh, letting shudders roll through them. Tear tracks mark their cheeks. "Sometimes, when you look at me... It's as if you see through me. Like I'm as thin as paper that’ll rip in the slightest breeze. And I know I am not as strong as I used to be but I am not weak. Even if I can't... Can't control wind, or shower everyone with merits, or spread joy like an infection. I'm still Shi Qingxuan, the brother of Shi Wudu. I'm still yours. So why don't you see me anymore."

Shi Qingxuan trembles. There, they sit on their bed that He Xuan didn't sleep in last night because he was too anxious. He spent the entire night at the lake, feeling Shi Qingxuan's eyes watching him through the window as he ran his feet through the water, circling again and again. Shi Qingxuan trembles, and He Xuan doesn't know how to stop it.

"I..." He tries, but nothing sounds right as he thinks it. "I'm trying to help."

"By not being here?" Shi Qingxuan bites.

He Xuan flinches again, and this time Shi Qingxuan sees it. He takes a breath, two, and lets them out, alongside everything he feels. It flows out of him like a river, and he feels himself drop to his knees, though it hardly registers.

"I'm- Xie Lian has found a way. To share a soul." He says. All of a sudden, he feels rather numb. "I want to help you. I can't see you go too. I have lost too much, and I am selfish, and I won't let you go too.

"My family have died. I have ruined the life of the one I love most. If I can help recover what was lost, I would. Maybe not in full-" He thinks of Shi Wudu's sneer, and backpedals- "But I do not wish to see you suffer. His Highness has found a method in which I could save you. You could live forever with me."

"And you think I wish to be saved?" Shi Qingxuan asks, appalled. Somehow, they sound more enraged than before. "I have said I do not wish to ascend again. I don't want to be an official. There's nothing heavenly about the place. I'd rather die than step foot there again."

"You don't have to." He Xuan pleads. "I'm a Calamity, not a god. My power wouldn't grant you that sort of immortality."

"And-" Shi Qingxuan starts, subdued. They sound strangely hesitant about it all, as they shuffle on the bed, before pitching forward too, settling on the floor beside He Xuan, legs in an awkward angle. "Would I have to die?"

"No!" He Xuan startles. "I wouldn't- I'd never ask that of you!"

"Then why have you waited so long to tell me, if this is a supposed 'cure-all'?"

"Because," He Xuan says, swallowing. He drags his eyes up from the wooden floorboards to stare at Shi Qingxuan resolutely. "Because I didn't want to hear you say 'no.'"

With that, Shi Qingxuan slumps against him. They push into each other's embraces as if it's the only thing they have tethering them here. He Xuan feels their heart beat against his own empty chest, feels it echoing through him. He never wants this moment to stop and he wants it to end all at once. The two sides inside him war, until he closes his eyes and cries into their hair.

A hand finds itself on the back of his head and he wraps his own arms around their wracking frame. He sobs and sobs until there's nothing left of him to give, and they stay in each other's arms until his entire body numbs. He has no clue how Shi Qingxuan is still sitting there, uncomplaining.

He pulls back and looks at them. Their soft eyes are watery too, but they smile at him, all pink and shaky. He Xuan kisses them, for only a second but it is enough. It's enough to say everything that he can't otherwise convey.

"This isn't a yes." Shi Qingxuan whispers. "I don't know whether I want this. You will let me think."

"Of course." He Xuan says. It doesn't hurt like he expected. It's not a no. It's not a never. "Do you want a bath?"

He thinks of washing their hair. Kissing their neck. Scrubbing them clean, and massaging them free of their aches. Soothing with spiritual energy and telling them they could have this forever. Most importantly, he thinks of their face, slack with relaxation and a hint of tiredness. He Xuan would carry them to their bed and wipe them dry, before gently rubbing their hair without jostling them. He'd bring out their comb and brush it through for them, smiling gently to himself as they'd slowly begin to slump against him, unable to even keep their eyes open at the light sensations tugging at their scalp.

"Yes." Shi Qingxuan answers softly. It sounds like birdsong on the dawn of a new day. "I'd like that."

At once, everything is okay again. Everything is okay.

*

That morning, Shi Qingxuan kisses his eyelids when he’s waking up. They peer over him and kiss him again, tongue and all. He Xuan hardly has a chance to blink before they’re on top of him, kissing him like their lives depend on it.

They kiss and kiss, until Shi Qingxuan draws away for breath. Or they might be laughing, as they stare at the ceiling and look delighted with themselves.

“Yes.” They say. “Yes, I’ll do it.”

The crash of waves sounds in He Xuan’s head as the rest of the world seems to fade away slightly.

“I’ll do it!” They shout. “I want to kiss you like that for hours! And never let you go again. And I’ll forever tend my garden. And I’ll be able to swim again!”

“It’s not a ‘cure-all’, as you put it-”

“I know! I know, I know, I know. I spent the entire night thinking of it.” Shi Qingxuan grins. They can’t stop smiling. Something about them has fundamentally changed, enlightened with the hope they never thought they could have, and they seem to glow. It’s like they’ll never not be happy again. “I want to kiss you forever. I want to see every sunrise there is to see. I want to see the world like we used to! I want this so, so much that I don’t think you even know.”

“I do.” He mumbles against their neck, as he pulls them back down to kiss them again. He has to touch them. He feels their warmth seep into him, and he never wants to let go. “I do know.”

“I want to feel you.” Shi Qingxuan says. Their eyes gleam with something. He Xuan blinks, and realises he’s in over his head. “I want to touch you forever.”

“There’s no better time than the present.” He Xuan says, before he shuts up for a very long time.

*

Later, the barrier surrounding their farmhouse ripples as someone passes through it, alerting He Xuan to consciousness. The only one currently allowed permanent access is Xie Lian, however, so he relaxes again, until a knock sounds at the door.

The two of them are lying in bed when it happens, each begging the other to go and answer the door so they can remain comfortable in bed.

“It’s your turn.” Shi Qingxuan pleads inaccurately, letting out a yawn. They’re due for an afternoon nap, and He Xuan would be quite content to join them, if business didn’t call.

“I’ll be back in a moment then.” He Xuan says, before he forces himself up and out. Casting one last glance back at Shi Qingxuan— where they’ve stretched themselves out, like a cat lounging in the sunlight— he prepares himself to inform Xie Lian that their plan is actually happening.

“Your Highness?” He Xuan asks. He feels uncharacteristically nervous, like his hope is going to be for nothing. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes! It’s fine. I thought I’d check in after our conversation yesterday.” Xie Lian says. Shi Qingxuan lets out a tired groan from the bedroom after a long stretch of shuffling sounds, to which he smiles. “And I told you to call me Xie Lian.”

“I shouldn't.” He Xuan replies, as he always does. “You can come in. I'll put on a pot of tea. Shi Qingxuan is resting.”

“And they know what we discussed?”

“Yes." He Xuan smiles. "They agreed.”

Xie Lian's eyes light up like a lantern as he settles down at the table. “That's wonderful.” His tone is entirely sincere, even as his face takes on the shape of worry. “And you told them of the precautions?”

“Not entirely. It was more…” He trails off, unsure how to describe the swinging emotions of the scene. In all honesty, the worry that Shi Qingxuan wouldn't listen to what he had to say at all was at the forefront of his mind, drowning out everything else. 

He returns to Xie Lian with the tea, pouring them both a cup. After taking a sip, he says, “I've discussed it some more with them this morning. But you're the one in control here.”

“Ah, no,” Xie Lian says, ever humble. “You've been researching with me. You're definitely not lacking any knowledge of the proceeds, not at all.”

“I think it would be better for him to hear it from someone else.” He Xuan decides. In part, it may be cowardice, but truly, it would be easier if someone more distanced said it. “Please.”

Xie Lian sighs but nods. “Of course. And later, will we... Is it alright if we do it so soon, or will they want time?”

He Xuan falls silent. “You will have to ask him.” He eventually replies. The worry comes flooding back again; what if, what if — “We will have one more evening, just to be certain. If he needs more time, he can tell you.”

“Of course.” Xie Lian says again. The wrinkles finally flatten out into something softer; distantly, He Xuan apologises to Hua Cheng for bringing the man before him so much stress. “Everything will go just fine.”

*

That evening, long after Xie Lian has gone, they are curled in bed together. He Xuan's head rests upon Shi Qingxuan's chest, and his eyes are closed even though he's wide awake. The slow rise and fall is soothing, and he finds himself comparing it to the lull of waves rocking you to sleep as your boat simply floats, untethered to the world.

“A-Xuan.” He Xuan says. His voice is level, even if his hands quiver with unspoken emotion. He tightens them into fists, gripping at Shi Qingxuan’s robes. “You’re certain?”

Shi Qingxuan doesn’t ask about what.

Instead, they stop from where they were humming, and speak somehow in an even softer tone. “Yes.”

“Even after with what Xie Lian said. The core-“

“I don’t care if it hurts, He Xuan.” Shi Qingxuan promises. “I know it might hurt. It will hurt, even. I know my body might not be able to take it again, and it’ll take weeks to recover-“ They pause here, a slight hesitancy before they bring one hand from He Xuan’s hair to place it on his heart. “It might destroy your core. But you’re willing, and so am I.”

“Besides,” They continue. “He’s been beating out flaws from this thing for months. If there’s anyone I had to trust after you, it would be him.”

He Xuan nods, taking a deep breath. It smells like the fresh breeze of a summer’s day. It smells like the rich scent of earth after an autumn’s rain. 

It smells like being alive.

Perhaps this is what finally calms him; the idea of Shi Qingxuan’s wide, unfaltering smile again, without being punctuated by half-hidden winces of pain.

He doesn’t let himself hope it will be perfect. But that night, he dreams of a world open to their desires; the beautiful world that embraces them wherever they go. He thinks of Shi Qingxuan dressed in the finery they used to admire, and then he imagines them in their bedclothes. Either way, they are utterly content again. 

He Xuan looks out to this dream world of his, and deems it finally complete. 

*

The next morning greets them quickly, even as the day's pace crawls by, slowed by a sense of unease, the putting off of the inevitable. The final stretch of calm before a disastrous storm.

Or that's what it feels like anyway.

When Xie Lian arrives, Feng Xin and Mu Qing reluctantly behind him, the sun is just beginning its slow descent in the sky. A few clouds litter the sky, though it had rained in the previous days, equalling a warm day outside for them today. 

He Xuan is glad, at least, that they had that. The worry he had felt had been almost paralyzing, though it lessened when Shi Qingxuan continued as if nothing was amiss.

“I trust your journey was alright?” They say dutifully as Feng Xin and Mu Qing take a blatant look-over of the place, ignoring the weird looks the pair direct at them. He Xuan watches them both carefully, only relaxing slightly when they find nothing bad to say. In fact, they remain silent, letting Xie Lian do the talking.

Although he’s already explained the proceedings to He Xuan and Shi Qingxuan, Xie Lian begins his explanation again, likely for Feng Xin and Mu Qing’s benefit. In silence, the trio begin setting up the array in one of their spare rooms. He Xuan and Shi Qingxuan sit to the side, as per Xie Lian’s orders, to prepare themselves .

“His Highness said it would hurt.” Shi Qingxuan says worriedly. Now that company has arrived, they’ve started to look a little nervous. He Xuan pushes aside his own fears and smiles.

“But it won’t last very long hopefully. We know each other well; I don’t think there is a chance of rejection.”

Shi Qingxuan laughs, sunlight in their smile. “You’re right! Nothing can defeat the power of love!”

“You’ve been reading too many of Yun-popo’s romance novels, Qingxuan.” He complains. “No, it’ll be the strength of our characters that will carry us through.”

They become frightfully sincere for a moment. “Of course. You are very strong-” Cupping his face, they place small kisses on his nose, cheeks, forehead. From across the room, Mu Qing looks like he’s about to throw up. The others are ignoring it all- “I’m proud of us both! Let’s get through this together, okay?”

“Okay.” He Xuan says. He grabs their warm hand, squeezing it once. 

“Are you two ready?” Xie Lian asks politely. 

Shi Qingxuan squeezes his hand back. “Of course! Let’s do this!!”

If only it was that easy.

With everyone in their set places— He Xuan and Shi Qingxuan kneeling in the middle of the array, the other three stood outside of it— Xie Lian begins his reading. 

Two and two, minus one,

Take half of mine and make it yours.

Two and two, split in half,

Flowing between us, it cures

The ache of broken hearts.

With that, a sharp pain shoots through He Xuan, making him flinch with surprise. He grits his teeth against it as it strengthens, moving up from his calves into his chest, where it takes root. The physical pain delves deeper than ever before; if he weren’t already kneeling, then he would’ve fallen to the floor. 

It sears through his chest, hotter than the fires of Mount Tonglu. Distantly, he hears Shi Qingxuan shout his name, though eventually even sound is smothered by a high-pitched ringing sound droning on in his ears.

Suddenly, his chest grows cold, void of any warmth it previous retained. Although dead, even he wasn’t typically this cold; this spoke of a lack of spiritual energy, severed from his meridians, severed from him . A foreign fire sparks itself in the remnants of its core, however, burning away what was left.

Then it all stops, and a new feeling floods through him, a comfort he hadn’t expected, nor felt in so long. Though its essence was overwhelmingly of Xie Lian— a kind and soothing feeling— deep down, just beneath it, He Xuan feels the lingering touch of Hua Cheng there, his oldest friend.

He Xuan finally breathes again, letting the air flow through his lungs out of habit. It calms him further, until he can open his eyes again.

In front of him, Shi Qingxuan sits, held up by Feng Xin’s hand on their back. Their eyes are closed, looking serene as they rest. In fact, they hardly look any different at all, except for the tear tracks running down their cheeks.

Before he knows otherwise, He Xuan has already surged forward and wiped them away, taking Shi Qingxuan carefully into his arms. Feng Xin steps away. Finding their pulse, he sighs a breath of relief as it beats beneath his fingers, slow but steady. Then, he probes deeper, slumping with relief as he feels his own core reach back for him.

“It worked.” He Xuan manages, only for a sudden darkness to overcome him.

*

It’s not the feeling of the sun shining on his face through the window that wakes him, nor the sweltering heat that surrounds him, unusual for a day so cool as today. It is the feeling of absolute contentment that rouses him, and sits and revels in it without opening his eyes.

His body feels alive again, alight with something he cannot name. Power surges through every inch of him, reaching places he forgot existed. He pushes and pulls, and the feeling of flames, of hearth, moving through him wherever he commands. Then, he pushes too far and it leaves him all at once; beside him, the figure pressed into his neck gasps as it then floods through them too.

A second later, the feeling returns to him, pushed back into his own body as the feeling became almost overwhelming for Shi Qingxuan. Still, they push it back and forth, into each other in as many ways as they can think of in a morning like this, when their thoughts are not yet orderly.

“A-Xuan.” He Xuan whispers. “Are you awake?”

“Yes.” They whisper back. Why are they whispering? “Can you feel that?”

“Yes.” He Xuan echoes. “My spiritual energy. Ours now.”

“It feels like nothing I’ve ever felt before.” They admit. “It feels good. Warm. I expected it to be cooler.”

“Because I’m cold?”

“Because the sea is there for you to swim in on an uncomfortably hot day.” Shi Qingxuan says. “You always keep me at the right temperature. I thought it’d feel more… Like you.”

“It is like me.” He says. He pushes a branch forward, the strand that feels like the ocean. If spiritual energy could come in colours, this part would be blue and constantly rippling, always flowing somewhere or other. Shi Qingxuan gasps when it hits them, as it floods through their once-dormant meridians and reminds them what it feels like to have control of yourself entirely. “But it’s also like you. It’s us, so of course, it’s a little unfamiliar.”

Shi Qingxuan laughs at that. “I don’t think there’s much that’s unfamiliar between us anymore.” If they had the willpower to move from their comfortable position, He Xuan is sure they would’ve thrown their head back in delight.

“Forward, even after all this time.” He Xuan teases.

“You know me. I’ll never change.” Shi Qingxuan says. Then, they quirk their brow. “We literally share a soul. If there was anyone more intimate with you, I’d be worried.”

“What else do I have left to give, that I haven’t already bestowed upon you.” He Xuan wonders. “If you tell me, I’ll share it. We’re one now.”

“We’re one.” Shi Qingxuan repeats. “I like that. Same beginning, same end.”