Work Text:
xingqiu used to love autumn.
there were a few reasons why it used to be his favorite season. his name was “moving autumn”, he was born in the fall, and during autumn, liyue's green-gold leaves flamed into fiery hues, twirling to a stop at his feet when he was out exploring with chongyun.
the days he spent in the rain of leaves with the exorcist were the best. as they searched for spirits, all the obstacles they encountered they handled with grace, both of them well versed in the art of combat.
in their youth, they thought they were untouchable, the two of them. so they got careless.
it was a beautiful day, blue sky peppered with white cumulus clouds, when they ran across a band of treasure hoarders. xingqiu narrowed his eyes at the men swarming an ancient obelisk, pilfered research notes strewn around their little camp.
chongyun raised his eyebrows in a silent question. xingqiu nodded grimly, leaping off the hill they stood on, wind glider flicking open. chongyun followed, only a half-second behind him.
they circled over the men like hawks, before striking in unison, double shockwaves knocking out most of the treasure hoarders.
the remaining men rushed in, intent on exacting vengeance. twin swords of rain and ice cut them shallowly, freezing some in place, before an electric bottle shattered against the ground.
xingqiu hissed and let chongyun handle the melee enemies, racing over to the alchemist and disarming him. the treasure hoarder staggered back, pulling out a smoke bomb and retreating. xingqiu breathed for a moment, looking down at the discarded raven insignia in the grass. chongyun could handle a treasure hoarder long enough to catch his breath.
a quiet “oh.” echoed through the suddenly silent valley clearing.
xingqiu spun around at the sound of chongyun’s voice, before freezing. his hands shook as he looked into a treasure hoarder’s horror-filled eyes, his shovel tip poking from chongyun’s back. the man flinched, taking a step back and accidentally tugging the shovel loose as he tossed a smoke bomb at his own feet. chongyun staggered backward in the same motion, bloody shovel clattering to the ground as he fell.
xingqiu dropped his sword in the grass, running to catch him and set him gently down. “no, no, no—” he desperately pulled water from his vision, layering it over the ugly gash in chongyun’s stomach. “please, please!”
the water ran red as he forced it into the wound, hands clenching and unclenching as he drew more moisture from the air. xingqiu sobbed. “damn it! work, i beg of you!”
chongyun slid a hand over xingqiu’s bloody ones. “xingqiu, stop. i know i'm going to die.”
“no, i can save you!” but for all his words, his water wasn't meant to heal. chongyun stared up at him, calm as his eyes turned glassy.
“just stay with me, xingqiu. that is all i ask,” he sighed, his blood staining the grass crimson.
xingqiu could say nothing, tears running down his face. he hurriedly swept them away with his bloody hands, offering up chongyun a wobbly, brittle smile. “okay.”
chongyun raised one shaking hand to gently wipe away a streak of blood from xingqiu's face. “it's okay to cry, xingqiu. you don't have to be strong.”
more tears poured from his eyes. xingqiu sniffled as chongyun lay his hand back down on the grass.
“this... isn't so bad. i thought i would die alone...” chongyun whispered, fixing his gaze on a spot of blue in the sky. he let his eyes slip shut. “i'm sorry, xingqiu... live well without me.”
xingqiu's breath hitched as those words passed his ears. he scrambled to check for a pulse, a heartbeat, any sign that chongyun was still alive.
he found none.
xingqiu buried his head in his hands, tears spilling from between his fingers.
it was a beautiful day when chongyun died.
after what felt like hours, xingqiu finally gathered himself, gently bringing chongyun into a carry. he stiffened at the lack of warmth from his body, but xingqiu fought down the bile rising in his throat. “barbatos, help me,” he whispered brokenly into the cloudy sky. “please. he deserves a proper funeral, at least.”
the wind whipped at his face before an upcurrent blew upward, the glider he wore snapping open and buoying him into the air. xingqiu let the breeze carry him into the harbor, running to chongyun’s clan home.
the person who opened the door let him in quickly, chattering soundlessly to his ears. more people took chongyun’s body from him. others sat him down and gave him something to drink. the world spun around as xingqiu sat unmoving in the living space, numb and hurting.
when they asked what happened, the hurt stabbed deeper into his heart. how could anyone describe the agony of watching the life drain from their friend's body, vision flickering from sky blue to empty gray?
he looked down at his hands, still flaked with dried blood. “we ran into treasure hoarders. i made him fight with me. it was my fault.”
the rest of the day blurred away. the clan must have brought him back to the commerce guild, as he found himself in his opulent bedroom. they must have washed the blood from his hands, as he found them clean when he curled them in his damp coat.
he sat on the bed for hours until a servant walked in and gently suggested he should sleep. xingqiu nodded mechanically. after she left, he shucked off his clothing, changing into sleepwear and climbing into bed.
the softness was so different from the bedrolls he and chongyun shared in the waving grasses of liyue. flashes of smiles and fond cat-slit eyes blinked in his mind as he stared blankly up at the ceiling.
xingqiu shut his eyes. they wouldn’t be doing that any longer.
he turned over, curling into a ball. it was best to stop thinking of him.
xingqiu stayed in bed for a long time, numbness weighing his limbs. he wasn’t hungry. he wasn’t interested in going out. so he slept to pass the days.
of course, even in sleep he couldn’t escape. nightmares brought him back to the valley clearing every time.
the first night was the worst, where chongyun died in the same place, the same way. they said the same things to each other. xingqiu woke that morning with a damp pillow, eyes swollen and stinging at the corners.
the second night he expected. mind churning with ways he could have saved him, he leaped into action, but every time he was too slow, too far, too late. chongyun always met the same end, the treasure hoarder’s face pulled into a mockery of sympathy.
the third night was a punishment. he could not move as the treasure hunter withdrew his shovel from chongyun’s stomach, simply walking away from the dying boy. xingqiu could not speak. he could only watch as chongyun died alone.
the fourth... he didn’t remember.
(it started out the same way, just like the first night. xingqiu ran to chongyun’s side, slamming his hands onto the wound to stop the bleeding, but the sinking feeling in his heart told him all he needed to know. chongyun shuddered out shaky breaths, saying nothing.
a hand tugged at his shoulder. xingqiu twisted around, anger building. if the treasure hoarders wanted to finish him off, so be it.
instead, chongyun stood before him, unbloodied and whole. the exorcist sighed in relief as xingqiu stared at him, face pale. “i finally found you.”
xingqiu looked back at the bleeding body behind him, and back down at his red-stained hands as chongyun continued. “i’m sorry i couldn’t reach—”
“no. you’re gone. get away from me!” the false chongyun reached vainly out for him as he spoke, but the dream spiralled off into darkness before he could touch xingqiu.)
he woke up the next morning with more tears than the first night.
on the fifth day, they held chongyun’s funeral. xingqiu didn’t hear any of the words being said as he sat, clutching a wilting glaze lily to place in the casket. when the eulogies were done and family members shuffled into a line to send chongyun off, he stood with them, squeezing the flower.
xingqiu reached the casket, dreading what he would see. the image of chongyun’s bloody body flashed in his mind as he peered into the open box.
chongyun lay in the casket, formal clothing neatly pressed and posture stiff. xingqiu stared down at the body. this wasn’t him.
the funeral parlor had done an excellent job, he thought distantly, but the foundation they used was just the wrong shade. the lack of blush that colored chongyun’s face in every season made him look flat. they used lipstick to cover his chapped lips, a pale pink that xingqiu had never seen.
he placed the glaze lily in the coffin. the chongyun he knew was not here.
that night, xingqiu had a respite from the valley clearing. instead, he stood above the pale imitation of chongyun in the casket, holding a vibrant silk flower. when he went to place the flower down, a part of him hesitated.
as he tried to force his hand to open, he missed chongyun’s eyes opening. the body clamped a hand around his wrist, glassy eyes staring sightlessly up at him as it tried to tug the flower from xingqiu’s iron grip. horror made him flinch back, yanking his arm away from it.
xingqiu spun around, instantly finding himself facing another chongyun. chongyun tried to speak, but xingqiu raced away, picking a direction and running.
“wait! xingqiu!” chongyun caught his wrist, the same one that the one in the casket had held. before xingqiu could yell, chongyun spun him into a hug, covering his eyes for a moment. when chongyun let him go, they stood in the flower fields of qingce village, looking out at the waterfalls.
xingqiu took a moment to breathe, sitting down amongst the orange petals. “thank you,” he murmured, staring off into the blurry water. “though this doesn’t make up for making chongyun die so many times.”
he didn’t see chongyun’s expression from where he sat, but he could hear his voice. “i had no part in that, but i’m glad i could help you. i don’t want to see you hurting.”
“spoken exactly like chongyun would have,” xingqiu chuckled emptily, gaze still fixed on the white spray. “i suppose this is better than dwelling on his death. at least my own mind can pretend he’s alright, wherever he is.”
“...i suppose.” chongyun took a seat next to him, letting the empty silence drift on. the quiet roar of the water was what stuck with xingqiu long after he woke.
the sixth day was better. with snippets of rushing water and flashes of orange flowers in his thoughts instead of blood and ragged breathing, xingqiu managed to haul himself out of bed, grabbing a small breakfast of simple fried eggs. the servants gave him sympathetic smiles when he could only manage to finish two of the three they had given him, taking the plate back to the kitchen.
xingqiu wandered around the house, distantly recognizing the decor from hazy childhood memories. he had spent so much time walking the golden hills of liyue with chongyun that he remembered them better than his own home.
xingqiu shook his head, kneeling to pull an old fairy tale from a shelf. he was such a fool. why had he not recorded his adventures with chongyun sooner? why had he not thought ahead before the worst happened?
another thought struck him, one that had fled his mind while he laughed with chongyun. why had he not contemplated his duties as the second son of the guild? the looming deadline of his eighteenth birthday stood in the doorway of xingqiu’s mind, oppressive and heavy. in a year’s time he would be trapped.
at least with chongyun he would have been able to satisfy his wanderlust with tales of beautiful landscapes and icy misadventures. now without the exorcist he would be left in an empty house he didn’t remember, with people he didn’t recognize.
xingqiu’s grip tightened on the book, before he exhaled, leaning back down to replace it on the shelf. it was easier to dream than to face the truth. and he didn’t want to face the truth yet.
that night, he dreamt of simpler times, of them together at sixteen exploring every shop, every food stall in liyue harbor. he dreamt of writing a book of their quests, recording the things that made chongyun smile. it was a beautiful thought. he just wished it was real.
with the nights calmer, xingqiu gained the strength to face the days. he walked the rooms of the house, slowly committing its suffocating walls to memory. after a few days, he requested a portion of his father’s contracts to read over. his family was pleased to hear of his decision, setting him up in a grand workroom overlooking the harbor.
his mind knew better. chongyun brought it up the night he finally asked. “why did you take on the guild’s work?” he remarked, idly twirling a long-handled net as they walked the road to wangshu inn.
xingqiu paused, throat tightening. “...i will inherit a high position soon. i must gain experience before i am thrust into the murky waters of business.” his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “one cannot become a captain without first scrubbing the deck, after all.”
the exorcist sighed. “you don’t want this, do you?” as he said that, he scooped up a yellow butterfly with the net, gently pinching its wings together and holding it out to xingqiu.
its flailing legs reminded xingqiu of himself. he slowly shook his head.
chongyun leaned the net against a parasol, before letting the butterfly perch on his hand and releasing its wings. it opened and closed them once, then flew off into the sky. “you’re like the butterfly. forced to stay with the guild with your wings clipped, but if you had the barest chance to fly away, you would.” chongyun glanced over his shoulder at xingqiu. “you don’t need to stay with your family if you know you’ll hate what you do.”
“i need to stay with my family because my adventures are what got you killed!” as xingqiu yelled that, the dream fragmented, sky blurring from blue to gray. they stood in the ruins on wuwang hill, eerie blue flames lighting the dead forest.
in the low light, chongyun looked even more ghost-like than before. he dropped his gaze to the ground, voice softening. “we didn’t know this would happen. it wasn’t your fault.”
xingqiu bared his teeth in a mock smile. “exactly what chongyun would have said. but you’re not him.” he took one unsteady breath. “and he will never come back.”
so he kept working, double-checking contracts and examining trade agreements. as the papers piled up on his desk, the leaves fell away from the tree outside his window, branches darkening to mahogany. the only thing to break up the monotony he had crafted for himself were the dreams of their adventures; the ones that tried to convince him to continue being foolish.
xiangling tried, once, to break him free from his gilded cage. “xingqiu, how are you doing...?” she asked him hesitantly, visiting to deliver a few dishes to the house. “you seemed quiet during the funeral.”
“ah, i’m alright!” xingqiu plastered a small smile on his face, reaching out and taking the bundle of food from her arms. “it was two weeks ago. i’ve had time.”
“of course,” xiangling answered, tone still uncertain. “i was worried you were being kept inside because of your father, so i wanted to ask if you wanted to come with me to restock on ingredients. i’m running low on slime condensate—”
“oh, i’m sorry, but i... will not be able to accompany you. i have guild work to continue.” xingqiu schooled his features into an apologetic expression. guilt tugged at his heart for lying to her, but he brushed it aside. it would be better to let her down gently than risk having her get hurt.
xiangling sighed, shoulders slumping. “ah, is your father being overprotective? that’s too bad. i’ll bring you something back when i go out, then!”
the guilt froze in its squirms. when xingqiu spoke, his voice was like ice. “...you’re still going into danger? alone?”
xiangling could tell something was wrong. “it’s only slimes, and i have guoba with me as always—”
“don’t go out. stay in the restaurant. if chongyun and i couldn’t stay safe adventuring together, how could you do it on your own?” xingqiu closed the door on her before she could answer, bolting back to his workroom. he wiped away a trickle of tears from his face as he examined a document with blurry eyes. xiangling didn’t deserve his bitter words, but he hoped they would keep her safe. he didn’t want to lose anyone else.
chongyun didn’t speak to him that night, sitting far away from him on a cliff overlooking lingju. he supposed he deserved it.
it was spring when xingqiu finally decided to leave his house. his mind had been urging him to go out, conjuring up past adventures and quests.
eventually, even the chongyun who appeared in his dreams brought it up. “if all you dream about is adventuring, don’t you think you should listen to your heart?”
at first he refused. his recklessness had been what ultimately led to chongyun’s death. what was to say he had learned his lesson? he could live with only the shrinking worlds in his books and his paling memories.
the branches outside his workroom swayed in a gentle breeze, new leaves and flower buds rustling quietly. liyue harbor bustled, snatches of conversation drifting in as people walked the streets. each time xingqiu gazed outside, a wave of yearning washed over him.
in the end, he conceded defeat. teyvat was too beautiful to be seen from a desk all his life.
xingqiu requested a month-long break under the guise of supervising the guhua clan after his lengthy absence, before packing a travel bag and setting out of the mansion. he would have a moment of solitude in liyue’s golden plains.
before he left, however, he had one last person to speak to. xingqiu made his way to wanmin restaurant, a box of elemental oils under one arm. “is xiangling in the restaurant today?” he asked her father, who nodded, calling her out of the kitchen.
xiangling walked out casually, dusting her hands on her apron before freezing at the sight of xingqiu. he wilted a little at her carefully neutral gaze, but cleared his throat. “i... i wished to apologize for what i said to you. you’re stronger than i gave you credit for, and you didn’t deserve my lies.” xingqiu shifted uncomfortably, pulling out the box of oils. “even if you don’t accept my apology, please enjoy these. perhaps they’ll lend you a few new flavors.”
“you remembered...” xiangling ran a hand over the wooden lid, carved with the seven elemental symbols. “and i think i forgave you a long time ago, xingqiu.” she met his eyes, placing the box down. “you were hurting. chongyun was so close to you, and then you lost him.”
“i didn’t want to lose anyone else...” xingqiu whispered.
a soft, sad smile touched her lips. “i know. but i’ll be fine. you will be, too.” she lightly shoved him away, her smile growing. “now go enjoy your time out of the guild! if you’re here, you have to be on break, and i know how much you hate being kept inside!”
xingqiu raised his hands in surrender. “i will, i will!” he laughed, before sighing. “thank you, xiangling.”
she shrugged, rolling her shoulders. “what are friends for?”
xingqiu left with a much lighter heart than he had arrived with.
as he trekked across liyue, xingqiu’s dreams faded from his old adventures to his new ones, featuring the people he met on the road instead of simply him and chongyun. his heart twinged at the thought of forgetting the exorcist, but even the chongyun in his dreams didn’t seem to mind. each time they talked, he seemed almost relieved that xingqiu was thinking of him less and less.
when xingqiu asked, chongyun replied with, “i don’t want you to stay stuck in the past. there are beautiful things to see in the present.” his smile was wistful, bitter yet too happy to be false.
during the day, xingqiu enjoyed his expeditions greatly. though now he shied away from seeking out fights, he still savored the breeze on his face as he climbed mountains and walked through waving grasses.
of course, even the best things had to come to an end. xingqiu’s heart sank as the end of the month creeped closer. he couldn’t imagine a life of contracts and paperwork after having a taste of the freedom he craved, wind under his wings as he glided down from the highest peaks.
the night before he had to return to the harbor, xingqiu found himself back in qingce village, dreaming of searching for glaze lilies among orange hyacinths. “chongyun?” he asked the empty air.
“hmm?” chongyun’s voice startled him. xingqiu spun around to face the exorcist, who stood behind him as if he had been there from the start. “what is it, xingqiu?”
xingqiu sighed, turning back to a tightly shut glaze lily. “i was wondering if there was any way to avoid being my brother’s right hand man. i don’t think i’d be happy at a desk all my life.”
“well... you could always run away.” chongyun sat down next to him, lightly stroking the lily bulb. the flower gently opened, blooming in one motion.
xingqiu laughed bitterly. “ha. i wish i could, but unfortunately i enjoy my luxuries too much.” he brushed his hand over a hyacinth, watching it sway.
“...i recall, when i was younger, i considered asking you to run away with me.” chongyun cupped the lily in his hands. “i could have taken more jobs, and you could train disciples of guhua, or write or tell stories.”
he sighed, lily closing back up. “but that idea was from so long ago. now it’s just a dream.”
xingqiu paused for a moment, wistful. “for what it’s worth, i would have liked that. being with you would have been enough.” the silence that stretched between them was melancholic.
just as xingqiu felt the fuzziness of waking, chongyun spoke. “what if... you helped the guild in other ways? you aren’t destined to be tied down like your brother, who was taught to inherit the business. although you hate your status as the second son, you might be able to secure your freedom because of it. your brother can fend for himself, while you can look over smaller things, like managing a warehouse or keeping trade routes safe.”
hope blossomed in xingqiu’s chest. “oh,” he breathed. “it was that simple...” as the dream faded, he smiled. “thank you, dearest chongyun.”
the day he arrived back in liyue harbor, xingqiu put pen to paper, feverishly drafting a contract of his own. spurred into action by the words in his dream, he triple-checked the basics he had jotted down, before delving into the minutiae of the wording. he would need an ironclad agreement to stand against his father. this was liyue, the land of contracts, after all. it wouldn’t do to give a shoddy piece of work to rex lapis to look over, so why would he do the same to anyone else?
examining copies of the feiyun commerce guild’s official trade agreements, he marked passages with scrawled notes and wrote his own versions into his draft. as he continued work on it, scanning the syntax every so often for loopholes, xingqiu could almost feel the wind in his hair, waving grasses tickling his legs. through a contract, he would gain his freedom.
he worked on his draft for days, always checking to see if he could think up any ways to undermine the wording or slip through a hole in the conditions. finally he deemed it suitable, though it would never be perfect.
xingqiu took a deep breath, before knocking on the door to the workroom his father and brother shared. he had already informed them ahead of time of the contract he had been working on.
“come in.” his father's voice was steel, all business. xingqiu slid open the door and closed it behind him in one motion. there would be no one to save him but himself if his work was inadequate.
he walked into the middle of the room to present, bowing to both his father and brother. “honored heads of the feiyun commerce guild, i have drafted a contract between myself and the guild, regarding the nature of the work i will be performing when i am of age.” xingqiu placed the stack of papers on the desk for them to read. “i would prefer to be an ambassador of the guild, deepening relations with our business partners and striking deals with promising companies.”
his father picked the contract up first, slowly leafing through it. with every paper he turned, xingqiu's heart beat faster, though he showed none of his true feelings on his face.
finally, his father spoke. “the esteemed second son of the feiyun commerce guild... i can see why many of our guildsmen call you as such. this contract is watertight. your terms are unbendable in their simplicity, yet have enough detail to quash loopholes.” his eyes softened. “it’s a shame you won’t be working with your brother with your skill, but i will admit you will be an incredible emissary because of it. i accept your proposal.” he handed the pages to xingqiu's brother.
his brother shrugged, not even reading them. “if father agrees, i have no quarrels with it. we could never truly tie you down, and as an ambassador of the guild, you'll be a great asset.”
xingqiu left the room wearing a placid smile. his heart betrayed his true emotions, singing joyfully as he walked back to his workroom.
the preparations to make xingqiu an envoy were brutal. notifying trade partners, looking over lists of materials, training his already silver tongue to speak gold... even so, he loved every second of it. his destiny was finally within his reach, ready to be molded by him.
months passed as he continued his training, refining his knowledge of advanced persuasion tactics and practicing his swordwork. his dreams were filled with fantasies of the dandelion fields of mond, of the gentle waves of fontaine.
finally, xingqiu was almost ready. he had one final test before he truly came of age, his father preparing him to broker a trade deal on his eighteenth birthday.
he handled the contract smoothly, all his work coming to fruition. with that, the guild welcomed their newest ambassador with open arms.
that night, xingqiu dreamt of a pavilion, surrounded by a beautiful garden. chongyun waited for him, sitting on the edge of a stone flower bed.
when he got to his feet, xingqiu gazed up at him. chongyun wasn't the gangly teenager that his memories painted him as. instead, he was xingqiu's age, taller and wide shouldered. more confident.
"i wanted to congratulate you on your work and wish you a happy birthday," chongyun said, linking his arm with xingqiu's as they walked to the pavilion. "i'm glad you could grow older."
xingqiu arched an eyebrow, noticing his strange wording. "are you happy i'm getting old? you would never be as lovely as i am, even if i was ten years older."
chongyun chuckled. "i don't doubt that. you age very gracefully."
his gaze flickered to the sky as he withdrew his arm, letting xingqiu sit down at the table. "i'm just happy that you're doing alright. you haven't gotten yourself into trouble for a while, and you've been healing." chongyun took his own seat on a cushion, folding his legs neatly under the kotatsu. "you don't need me anymore, xingqiu."
those words made xingqiu's stomach drop like a stone. "what?"
chongyun smiled wistfully, a bouquet of icy glaze lilies forming in his hands. "you've gone out into liyue again. you've reconciled with xiangling. you've talked with your father and brother, and secured a future you want." he placed the bouquet on the heated table, letting it slowly melt. "you've done so much without me. you don't need to keep holding on."
xingqiu could feel the tears dripping down his face, as fiercely as they did that fateful autumn. he could say nothing as chongyun continued.
"i love you, but you need to move on from me. you have a future. i don't." he reached over, lacing xingqiu's fingers with his own. "you know this well. you've said nothing because you know."
the pang deep in xingqiu's heart tolled a mournful sound, but his mind stayed clear. "so this is goodbye...?" his voice shook.
"it is." a resigned look swept over chongyun's face. "live well, dearest xingqiu. may we meet again, in a happier time." he rose from his seat, turning away from xingqiu.
"wait, chongyun!" at the sound of xingqiu's voice, the exorcist paused, angling his head toward him.
"i love you," xingqiu whispered.
chongyun's shoulders rose and fell, shaking with grief. "i know. i love you too." with that, he stepped out of the pavilion into empty air.
xingqiu stayed sitting at the table amongst the melting flowers. he buried his head in his hands, letting his tears mix with the cold water until he woke.
after that, he never talked with chongyun in his dreams again, only fragments of sunny days together and hard-won battles appearing in his sleep. his heart ached, but his mind was right. he didn't need chongyun to haunt his dreams anymore. he had a future.
xingqiu let his hair grow out from its asymmetrical cut, swapping his coat for one slightly more practical. his sense of adventure never dulled, but his travels as an envoy of the guild satisfied his curiosity. he met new people, making friends on his journeys.
as his hair grew longer and longer, years passing as he matured into the guild's finest asset, he learned to live with the sadness as it grew fonder. he learned to live with the fact that memories were fickle. he learned to live that he would make new ones, in time.
that wasn't to say he didn't miss chongyun. the ball of sadness he kept above his heart pulsed with every beat. all the matchmakers would tear out their hair at the thought of finding someone for him. there would never be anyone for xingqiu like chongyun, but xingqiu was the only one left.
so he lived on, remembering their childhood adventures as he looked over contracts during the day, and dreaming of places they never got to see during the night.
someday in the future, they would meet again. that was a promise.