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“Daozhang.”
No.
“Daozhang, wake up.”
No. I’m not supposed to be here. This isn’t supposed to be happening.
“I know you can hear me. Come on, just - wake up.”
I don’t want to. I don’t want to, don’t make me-
Fingers brushed against his hand and he flinched away. Or tried, but his fingers barely did more than twitch; immediately the touch vanished, with a sharp inhale. “Daozhang,” said the voice that had woken him, sounding like it was about to break. “There you are. Finally! You took so long I thought-”
Took so long what?
Why am I here?
He tried to move again, but still couldn’t do anything but twitch. “I know, I know,” said the voice. “I’m sorry, you can’t move yet. I can’t let you move yet. It’s not safe.” Fingers brushed against his again, though only for a moment. “Besides, I didn’t know if you’d...I wasn’t sure what you’d do when you woke up.”
Woke up from what? He didn’t feel like he’d been sleeping. He felt heavy, exhausted. When he swallowed, his throat hurt. His head hurt. Somewhere deeper something felt - wrong, off-kilter. He tried to open his eyes, but it didn’t work. Because they were gone, he remembered, they weren’t there anymore, because he’d given them to-
He couldn’t fill in the end of that sentence.
What was wrong with him?
“Daozhang,” said the voice, with a thread of desperation, “say something.”
“Where am I,” he said, because that seemed like a decent place to start. Whoever it was with him, he heard his breath catch. There was a moment of silence.
“You’re in a place called Yi City,” said the voice, slowly, something odd in it that he couldn’t quite identify. “It’s - your home.”
Yi City. Home. That struck a chord of some kind. The ring of truth. Like the knowledge had been there, only inaccessible, behind a closed door. He went looking for others. A name, at least. He wanted a name.
“What happened?”
Another hitch of a moment and he knew, with sudden certainty, that his companion was going to lie. “You had an accident,” he said. “Hurt yourself. You hurt yourself very badly, but it’s going to be okay now, you’re going to be okay.”
An accident. What kind of accident?
Again that thought, violent in its certainty: I shouldn’t be here.
“Daozhang?” A pause. “Xiao Xingchen?”
Xiao Xingchen. Another door opened. That was his name. That was his name, and he was a wandering cultivator.
“Who are you?”
“Your friend,” said his companion, immediately, and fervently. “I’ve been living with you here for three years, three good years, you don’t remember?” That sounded true, too, but it also didn’t, yes, no, yes.
“I don’t remember anything,” he said, frustrated now, because he didn’t, he should and he didn’t, and he didn’t want to.
He didn’t want to.
Why didn’t he want to remember?
He tried to move again, but could not.
“Your name,” Xiao Xingchen said. “What is your name?”
A long silence. Again, he was certain that his companion was going to lie. His stomach churned uneasily and a strange urge built in him to scream but he couldn’t have said why.
“You called me Chengmei,” said the voice of his - his friend. “You told me it didn’t matter who I was.” He sounded accusatory, almost, but also pleading, desperate. Like he needed Xiao Xingchen to hear him and believe him and was afraid he wouldn’t.
He inched toward one of the closed doors that seemed to loom, and drew back, a horrible fear rising in him, cold dread chilling his bones.
No. I can’t. Immediately he felt like a hideous coward, because if it was something bad then it was something he needed to know, and he knew it was bad, that it was horrible.
(Laughter, he thought. He remembered laughter, cruel and vicious and awful, stabbing into him like a sword.)
A sword. “My sword,” he said, but then stopped, his stomach clenching as though it might revolt.
“You can’t use it right now, Daozhang,” said his friend, Chengmei, that’s not right, it’s, it’s- “I have it. I’ll give it back to you when - when you’re better.” His voice hitched a little again, like he was barely holding back some emotion. His spine prickled.
His throat hurt. Pain, he remembered pain and then cold and then quiet.
This is wrong.
“This is wrong,” he said, aloud. He heard a sharp inhale from next to him.
“No,” Chengmei said. “No, nothing’s wrong. It was bad, things were bad but they’re okay now. Everything is going to be okay.”
He wanted to shake his head, but he couldn’t. Couldn’t move, couldn’t see, and that cold horrible dread kept getting worse, like water creeping up his legs.
“Where are my eyes?” he asked. “What happened to my eyes?”
“You need to rest,” Chengmei said abruptly. “Go to sleep. We can - we can talk when you wake up again, I know you’re confused but it’s going to be fine. I promise.”
No, he wanted to say, wait, but darkness swallowed him like the maw of some terrible beast.
He woke up again to screaming.
“Let go of me let go of me-”
“Shut up you little brat,” snarled Chengmei’s voice. “If you fucking bite me again I’ll break every one of your fucking teeth, don’t think I won’t, now stop screaming, you’re going to freak out Daozhang-”
“Go die!”
“Listen,” Chengmei said. “I could’ve killed you when I found you, I should’ve, you fucked everything up but I didn’t. Xiao Xingchen likes you. Having you around will make him happier. I want him to be happier. So don’t you dare ruin this again, all right, because if you do-”
Silence. Xiao Xingchen could hear himself breathing quickly, straining to move. Someone was in danger, a young girl by the sound of it, and he knew that voice-
Daozhang!
“I’m not afraid of you,” said the girl’s voice, quavering a little.
“Then you’re stupider than I thought,” said Chengmei, no, no, it was...it was gone again. “I could snap you like a twig, Little Blind - Little Not-So-Blind - and if you fuck me over again I will.”
“I hate you.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Chengmei. “You think that’s news? I don’t care. What I care about is Daozhang staying alive. That is the only fucking thing that matters. If that meant ripping out your heart and using it as a replacement for his, I’d do that, easy. Get it?”
“Yes,” said the girl, almost too quietly for Xiao Xingchen to hear.
“Fucking good,” Chengmei snarled. “Sit down. Don’t try to run or next time I’ll cut the tendons in your ankles so you can’t, and there’s nowhere for you to go anyway. I’m going to go check on him.”
He couldn’t shake, not frozen as he was, but if he could’ve, he thought his teeth would be chattering. His skin was crawling, his heart hammering against his ribs. If he’d been frightened before-
He heard footsteps approaching and said, breathlessly, “don’t kill her.”
The footsteps stopped dead. “Daozhang?”
“Please,” Xiao Xingchen said. “Don’t kill the girl. If you hurt her, I’ll - I’ll-”
What could he do? Nothing. He was helpless, useless, frozen.
(Your fault. It’s your fault. Blood on his hands, a sword under his fingers, a name etched into the blade-)
“Daozhang,” Chengmei said, something wrenching and frantic in his voice. “Don’t - don’t cry, I won’t, okay, I won’t hurt her, I didn’t hurt her, she’s fine even if she fucking deserves-” He cut off, took a sharp breath, and said, “I’m not going to hurt a-Qing. I promise. I know she matters to you. Don’t - just don’t cry.”
Was he crying? He could feel something hot and damp on his face. A-Qing. Small hands clutching at his arm. A voice chattering away next to him. He groped after fragments of memory but too many of them kept slipping away.
“Oh,” he said finally, faintly. “Good.” He could be lying. It seemed likely he was lying. But what could he do about it?
The footsteps drew closer again and a hand touched his face. He flinched, and felt that flinch echoed.
“I’m not going to hurt you either,” he said. His voice had gone soft and a little unsteady. It was so different from how he’d spoken to the girl - to a-Qing - that he might’ve been another person. “Do you believe me?”
“No,” Xiao Xingchen said, the word almost automatic, without thought, instinctual, and he felt Chengmei recoil with a sharp hiss, like he’d been struck.
“Fine,” he said after a moment. “Don’t believe me. It’s still true. I’m not going to hurt you and I’m not going to leave you, not like - not like other people have. I’m never going to leave you.”
Xiao Xingchen’s stomach clenched with a mixture of nausea and fear and a horrible sort of relief. He needed to hear that. He hated hearing it.
“You never answered my question,” he said.
“It doesn’t matter,” Chengmei said savagely. “Don’t worry about that. Not right now. Later - later, when you’re better, we can talk about it.”
Xiao Xingchen said nothing. He was standing in front of that door again, dark and dangerous and he needed to know what was behind it; he didn’t want to know what was behind it.
“Don’t worry, Daozhang,” said Chengmei, voice soft again. “I’m going to take care of you.”
The horrifying thing was that he believed it. And believed, too, that his threat - I’d rip out your heart and use it as a replacement for his - was just as true.
“I want to talk to her,” he said. “To - a-Qing. Alone.”
Silence. “No,” Chengmei said after a moment. “No, you can’t. Not alone. It’s not safe yet.”
“Why isn’t it safe?”
“You’re still - you’re still fragile,” he said. “She might - hurt you. Without meaning to.”
Or, Xiao Xingchen thought, she’ll tell me something you don’t want me to know. But he did feel fragile. A hollow egg. A dislocated limb.
That recurring certainty: I shouldn’t be here.
“Please,” he said.
He heard the wavering in Chengmei’s silence, but then he said, “no. It’s too risky. You can - I’ll bring her here, but I’m going to stay.”
Xiao Xingchen decided not to argue. Somehow he knew he wouldn’t get anywhere.
“Daozhang,” said the girl’s voice, a-Qing’s voice, and she flung herself at him sobbing.
“Careful,” said Chengmei’s voice, but she just said “fuck off,” and didn’t move, clinging to his chest, and Xiao Xingchen desperately wanted to move to comfort her but he couldn’t.
“A-Qing?” he said.
“Yeah, that’s - you said he didn’t remember.”
“I don’t,” Xiao Xingchen said. “Not properly, not much. I know your name, and I remember that...that we are friends.” He paused, and added, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” a-Qing said immediately. “I’m not mad. Not at you.” She pulled back slowly, but her fingers remained wrapped around his arm, both hands clinging to him like he might vanish if she let go. “Daozhang - I’m sorry.”
Xiao Xingchen frowned. “Sorry?”
“Watch it,” said Chengmei’s voice, low, not quite a growl.
“I lied to you,” a-Qing said. “I told you I couldn’t see, but I can. Not well but I can. I should’ve told you. I should’ve told you sooner.” There was an odd urgency to her voice. Like she was trying to get the words out as quickly as possible, and trying to communicate something, and Xiao Xingchen groped for it like - well. Like a blind man feeling for something in the dark.
He knew it was there. He didn’t know what it was.
“Sooner?” he said slowly.
“Careful, Qingqing,” Chengmei said. “Remember what I told you?” There was a distinct edge on his voice, now, like a sword half-drawn.
(A sword. There was something about - about a sword. Not his. Something rending, soul-tearing, rose up at the edge of his vision.)
“Daozhang?” A-Qing sounded hesitant.
Daozhang! Quick, come quick, something horrible has happened-
Xiao Xingchen, this is why I hate you.
A shiver ran through his core, rippling through his meridians.
“Get out,” Chengmei said. “Get out, now.” A-Qing jerked away - was jerked away?
“No,” she said. “Daozhang, you-”
“That’s enough,” Chengmei snarled, and Xiao Xingchen heard quick footsteps approaching. Wait, he wanted to say. I almost-
Consciousness blinked out again.
He woke up to the soft sound of someone’s sleeping breathing next to him and with a name on his lips.
“Zichen,” he said. It scraped the inside of his throat. There was a sharp pain like someone had stabbed him through the heart.
Is that you?
“Daozhang?” Chengmei’s voice again. He sounded drowsy, like he’d just woken up. A warm fondness welled up and felt like it stole his breath away. A moment after the dread came crashing down and the feeling like he needed to run, to hide, to get away.
“Who is Zichen,” he asked.
The air in the room seemed to go dead.
“Someone you used to know,” Chengmei said, much clearer than he’d been a moment ago, and there was something vicious there, hatred thick and hot as blood. “He hurt you. But he’s gone now.”
His heart twisted, revolting. No, he thought, no, that didn’t sound right, that couldn’t be right. He thought Zichen and an aching yearning flared in him, deep inside, and a terrifying sense of loss.
“Gone where?”
“I don’t want to talk about him,” Chengmei said. “We don’t need to talk about him. You’re healing pretty well. I know you must be hungry but I don’t think you’re ready yet.”
“A-Qing,” Xiao Xingchen said, suddenly alarmed. “Where-”
“She’s fine! She’s fine,” Chengmei said. “I told you I wouldn’t hurt her, remember? But last time she visited she upset you pretty bad.”
I should’ve told you sooner. The pieces were all there. Everything he needed to understand, but he couldn’t, he just knew that something was wrong, badly wrong, and that there were things he wasn’t being told.
And that he was afraid to ask.
“Why are you lying to me?”
Chengmei was quiet for just a moment. “Why do you think I’m lying to you? What would I be lying to you about?”
“Are you?” That door again. He needed to know. He didn’t want to know.
“Maybe it’s a good thing you don’t remember everything,” Chengmei said after a couple moments. “You don’t need to. I can help with the important stuff. Everything else - you probably forgot for a good reason.”
“But…”
“Daozhang,” Chengmei interrupted, again with that strange desperation, “don’t.”
Like poking a bruise. It was hard to resist. He knew it would hurt if he did it. It was there, right there-
And then it was gone.
“Just let me take care of you,” Chengmei said, soft again, sweet. “You looked after me when I was hurt, remember? Only fair I should do it too.”
A brief flash - the smell of blood, a body on the side of the road, battered and half-dead. Feeling for breath, for life, it doesn’t matter who you were.
He felt dizzy, even lying perfectly still. Pain throbbed behind his eyes. Someone was laughing and he wanted to scream.
Then he was just tired. Exhausted, his body heavy, a burden he had to bear more than anything belonging to him.
“You said that there was an accident,” he said. “But then you said that I hurt myself.”
He didn’t really expect a response. What he got was, “it was an accident. A mistake.”
No. Not a mistake. This is the mistake. The thought came to him with absolute certainty but when he tried to trace it it vanished like smoke.
What’s wrong with me?
He didn’t ask that. Somehow he knew he wouldn’t get an answer. At least not a true one.
Zichen, is that you?
Blood. Horror. Anger. Despair.
“I want to speak to a-Qing again,” he said.
“Okay,” Chengmei said after a moment. “But if she upsets you again I’m going to throw her out.”
A-Qing held his hand, though she was very quiet. Xiao Xingchen had the feeling she was thinking.
“Daozhang,” she said abruptly, “I have a question.”
“A question?” Xiao Xingchen said blankly.
“Mmhm. If I know a secret, and it’s dangerous to keep it but also dangerous to tell it, what should I do?”
There was that feeling again, of dead air.
“Dangerous to you or to others?” Xiao Xingchen asked carefully.
“Both.”
“All right,” Chengmei said, voice harsh. “That’s it, you’re done.”
“I think,” Xiao Xingchen said, “you should do what you need to so that you stay safe.”
“But-”
“You’re done,” Chengmei said, and then the sound of a scuffle, a yelp, someone being dragged.
“Let go of me!” a-Qing said. “Let go of me!”
“I warned you,” Chengmei said. “I fucking warned you, didn’t I-”
“Don’t,” Xiao Xingchen cried out. “Don’t, it’s my fault, you said you wouldn’t hurt her.”
This man, how could this man be his friend-
Silence. A snarl. “You’re lucky,” Chengmei said, thick and bitter. “You’re lucky, Qingqing.” Xiao Xingchen tried again to move, without success.
“Get out,” Chengmei said. “Now.”
“Daozhang,” a-Qing said. “I-”
A door slammed. A long silence, and then footsteps rapidly approaching.
“Who are you,” Xiao Xingchen asked. He felt sick. There was another long quiet.
“You left candy on my pillow,” Chengmei said. His voice was quiet again, and he sounded sort of lost. “Every day. We went night-hunting together and I made you laugh so hard you said you’d drop your sword. We fucked each other.” Xiao Xingchen felt his face get hot, and Chengmei laughed, though it sounded strange. “You said I always tasted sweet.”
It sounded true. It sounded true but his stomach twisted like it was trying to revolt.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“Daozhang-” Faint desperation, and then a sigh. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”
It’s everything, Xiao Xingchen thought. The looming door. A pit full of shadows. And he was moving closer, step by step.
But he didn’t ask any further questions.
His dreams were full of mocking, terrible laughter that followed him even when he covered his ears, chasing him down, down, down.
Xiao Xingchen woke with a stomach full of stones, words going around and around in his head.
If I know a secret...You had an accident...you hurt yourself very badly. He hurt you, but he’s gone now.
You called me Chengmei.
“Daozhang, are you awake?”
Chengmei’s voice sounded cheerful. The stones in Xiao Xingchen’s stomach grew heavier.
“Yes,” he said.
“Good! That’s good. I brought you some broth - I think you can drink it now. You’re healing very well, now that you’re finally awake.”
“Does that mean you will let me move?” It came out more caustic than he meant it to.
A brief hitch of silence. “It’s for your own good,” Chengmei said. “To keep you safe.”
Safe. He didn’t feel safe. What he felt, right now, was ‘cold.’ Like ice (like frost); like death.
Maybe it’s a good thing you don’t remember everything. You probably forgot for a reason.
His chest tightened. No, he thought. Stop, pleading, desperate, terrified. (Covering his ears as though that would stop him hearing, as though that would let him forget ever hearing at all.)
Xiao Xingchen…
He shouldn’t be here. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He hadn’t meant-
This is why I hate you. Are you worthy of being disgusted by me?
“Daozhang?” Chengmei said, his voice a little less cheerful, a little more uncertain. “You look like you’re gonna be sick.”
Metal under his shaking fingers. Characters etched in steel.
“Tell me,” Xiao Xingchen said, voice thin. “Tell me what happened.”
“It’s not important,” Chengmei said hastily. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over now and the only thing that matters is that you get better. You’re getting better, just-”
He knew. He knew.
Was it fun?
“Xue Yang,” he said. Breathed. He could feel his heart thudding in his head.
Silence. No, he thought. No, no, I can’t, I can’t do this.
“Who’s that,” said Chengmei’s voice - no, not Chengmei. Cautious, wary, and Xiao Xingchen let out a shuddering breath.
“Xue Yang,” he said again. “What did you do, what did you do to me-”
“I saved your life!”
“I don’t want it!”
I’m not supposed to be here. He’d meant to die. He’d meant to be gone, destroyed, annihilated. He remembered the feeling, the desperation, grasping for his sword, for Shuanghua, if you don’t believe me, believe the one-
“Don’t say that,” said Xue Yang, raw and frantic. “Don’t - don’t you dare say that, you can’t leave me, I won’t let you.”
“Let me go,” Xiao Xingchen said, straining his muscles, trying to force his body to move. “Where is- where-”
Zichen, is that you?
“No,” Xue Yang said. “No, no, no, Xiao Xingchen, stop it-”
“Let me go!”
“If you die I will kill a-Qing,” Xue Yang said, fierce and desperate and on the edge of breaking. “I’ll do it. I swear.”
A-Qing.
“I’ll kill her and leave her body for wild dogs,” he said. Xiao Xingchen could almost picture him, leaning forward, eyes wild. “I’ll kill everyone in this city, I’ll - you can’t leave me.”
I would rather die, Xiao Xingchen thought. I would rather-
“What’s happening?”
“Get the fuck out,” snarled Xue Yang.
“If you hurt her,” Xiao Xingchen said, “I will find a way to kill you and then myself.”
“Daozhang,” a-Qing said. Distress in her voice. Brave, she was so brave, and Xiao Xingchen wanted to tell her to leave, to run now.
But his throat had closed. He could smell blood. His own, in place of tears.
“Xiao Xingchen,” Xue Yang said, suddenly quieter. Hoarse.
“You disgust me,” he said. Choking on the words. He meant them. Had to mean them. Couldn’t think about the ways in which they weren’t true. There was more silence.
“You should leave,” said a-Qing, voice full of sudden venom.
“No.” Xue Yang’s voice had hardened. “No. I won’t. You can’t force me to. I will - I’m going to make this right, you’ll see, I’m going to fix everything same as I fixed you, Daozhang. It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay.”
His voice grew louder as he spoke. More desperate. More frantic. Xiao Xingchen wanted to scream.
All the energy went out of him all at once and left him hollow. For a moment he thought Xue Yang had done something.
No, he realized. It was just his own despair.
“You’re a monster,” a-Qing hissed. “If you really cared about him at all you’d let us both go and kill yourself.”
“Shut up before I cut out your tongue too,” Xue Yang said. “Daozhang, do you hear me? Things were good. We were good. They can be good again.”
Not while you live. Not while I do. Xiao Xingchen said nothing. He felt like something ripped open, disembowelled.
“It’s okay,” Xue Yang said. His voice was thick with - something. “I know - it’s a lot. You’re confused. But it’s going to get better. You’re going to get better. You’ll see. Or, well...”
It was a joke, a horrible joke, a joke that his friend might’ve made, and Xiao Xingchen let out an awful sound that couldn’t decide if it was a laugh or a sob.
“It’s going to be okay,” Xue Yang said again. Xiao Xingchen wondered if he believed it. Or just needed to.
“Let me rest,” he said, wearily.
“Okay,” Xue Yang said after a moment. His voice sounded oddly small. “You can rest. Sleep. When you wake up - things’ll look better when you wake up.”
“Things’ll look better when you’re dead,” said a-Qing, which was the last thing Xiao Xingchen heard.
He came awake again with a warm body curled up against him, head pressed against his shoulder, one hand splayed out over his chest. For a moment, he could almost pretend he didn’t know. That it was a week ago, a month ago, an ordinary morning waking up with limbs entangled, like sleeping with a grasping vine.
Only for a moment.
His hand, Xiao Xingchen realized, could move. He could feel, deep within, just a flicker of his spiritual energy.
He didn’t know where Shuanghua was, but it might be that he could summon it. That he would be able to move enough to…
Xue Yang moved, sighed. Xiao Xingchen’s hand went limp. If he failed - if he failed, the consequences could be disastrous. Maybe not to him, but to a-Qing, to others…
Or perhaps he was just a coward.
“Xiao Xingchen,” Xue Yang murmured, voice soft, his friend’s voice, and it hit him again, the bitter-iron loathing and unbearable affection, like he was going to be torn in two.
“Xiao Xingchen,” he said, “I’m going to take care of you. And I will never, ever leave you.”
Xiao Xingchen flexed his fingers again.
No, he thought. You won’t.
When you die, we’ll die together.