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year one.
Xue Yang clocked the little blind girl immediately for an opportunistic, thieving little gutter rat, and he was absolutely right.
It was obvious she’d latched onto Xiao Xingchen as a combination of protection and meal ticket, and she seemed to think of him as hers, like she got the monopoly on taking advantage of the idiot just because she’d found him first.
If nothing else Xue Yang had to admit he could admire the entrepreneurial spirit. She’d seen a chance and taken it. Made it easier to understand how the fuck she could’ve stayed alive this long, blind and on her own.
He couldn’t really hold it against her. You did what you had to to survive. He got that.
Didn’t mean he found her any less annoying, though.
Xue Yang had considered, for the first couple weeks, just killing her quietly and finding some excuse to explain her disappearance to Xiao Xingchen. Ultimately it seemed like too much trouble, not to mention the fact that for a blind girl she could move fast and he was a lot slower than he should be right now.
Stupid fucking leg. He hated being like this. Hated it. Never mind that he was (relatively) safe, Xiao Xingchen clueless and the girl not an actual threat, it made his neck prickle and his hackles rise with the awareness of just how weak he was. And sometimes, like today, it’d seize up on him, which hurt bad and just made him feel weaker and angrier and fuck, if someone said a wrong word to him today-
“What’re you doing?”
“Fuck off,” Xue Yang said.
“Are you just lying around?” the girl asked loudly. “Why can’t you make yourself useful? Making Daozhang and me do all the work-”
“Fuck off or I’ll cut your tongue out and feed it to a stray dog,” Xue Yang said. That shut her up. Though not for long.
“Daozhang might trust you,” she said, “but I don’t.”
“Should I be scared?” He dug his fingers into the aching muscles of his leg, wishing for some of Xiao Xingchen’s miracle-working ointment, no matter how bad it smelled.
“You’re a cultivator, aren’t you? Where’d you come from? How’d you get those injuries?” She fired the questions off fast, one after the other, tone accusatory. Xue Yang wanted to snarl.
“None of your business, little girl,” he said. “Your precious Daozhang doesn’t care. Why are you making such a fuss out of it?”
“Daozhang is too nice sometimes.”
Well. They could agree on that, anyway.
He imagined telling her what if I told you I slaughtered a whole clan. I cut Chifeng-zun’s head off with his own sword. I’m the second greatest demonic cultivator in history, and the greatest one still alive. And I got left for dead by my friend Lianfang-zun, after everything I did for him. Fucking ungrateful, am I right?
“I had a friend,” he said. “He decided we weren’t friends anymore, I guess. So now I’m here.”
The brat stared at him. Well, so to speak. Her eyes were as blank as ever but she was facing in his direction and it looked like she would be staring. “What kind of friend tries to kill you?”
Xue Yang bared his teeth at her. “Maybe I asked too many personal questions.”
She didn’t seem impressed. She was a brave little fucker, he’d give her that.
Maybe he should just cut the damn leg off. Might hurt less. Of course, then he’d have the problem of not having a leg to deal with. Ultimately not worth it. He dug his fingers into a snarl of pain, breathing out through it.
“You didn’t say if you were a cultivator or where you came from,” a-Qing said, after a few moments.
“No,” Xue Yang said flatly. “I didn’t. And I’m not going to, and if you keep annoying me I’m going to-”
Kill you and hide your body where no one will ever find it, was what he was going to say, but then he caught Xiao Xingchen stepping into the courtyard and changed it to, “-tie your hair in knots while you’re asleep. Hey, Daozhang, tell this brat to stop being a pest, would you?”
He smiled that small, amused little smile and said, “a-Qing.”
“I was just asking some questions,” a-Qing protested.
“If our guest doesn’t want to answer questions, he doesn’t have to,” Xiao Xingchen said serenely. “Let him rest.”
Xue Yang gave a-Qing a triumphant smile, not caring that she wouldn’t see it. A-Qing shot a mighty glare in his direction, eyebrows furrowed and mouth set in an angry frown. It made him feel a little better.
“Fine,” she said. “Whatever. You’re boring to talk to anyway.” She turned and tapped her way over to Xiao Xingchen, where she raised herself up on her tiptoes and said something to him too quiet for Xue Yang to hear. Xiao Xingchen laughed.
Xue Yang’s guts twisted and he dug his fingers harder into the cramping muscle. As soon as he could walk properly again he’d figure out a way to get rid of her quietly. He hadn’t decided what he was going to do with Xiao Xingchen, but he didn’t want her in the way of it.
Okay, so he hadn’t gotten rid of her yet.
For one thing, she stuck to Xiao Xingchen like a fucking wart. She acted like he was the one who needed protecting, too, which was just funny. Xiao Xingchen could cut her in half easy as breathing, if he wanted to. Not that he would want to, and admittedly he was a colossal idiot, so maybe she wasn’t completely off base.
But mostly it was the fact that she was still an opportunistic, thieving little gutter rat.
And he liked that about her, apparently. It just made it funnier that the feeling didn’t appear to be completely mutual. She reminded him a little of a scrawny cat that’d lived in Kuizhou’s alleys. Ugly as shit and when you got close to it it’d hiss and puff up its pathetic patchy fur to try to look bigger, which was about as convincing as Lao Peng going on about his cultivator ancestors.
He’d liked that thing, too, up until it’d gotten mauled by a dog.
A-Qing was like that. It was cute. And it wasn’t like she could do anything to him even if she tried.
She did try to pickpocket him once. He’d baited her into it, flashing a piece of silver and making it very obvious where he was tucking it away, wondering if she’d be gutsy enough to try.
When she did, he caught her wrist after she snagged the purse but before she got away. Considered breaking it for a half second and decided that since he’d practically asked her to do it he probably should let her off easy.
“Let go of me,” she said, tugging. He held on a little tighter and then let go just as she flung herself hard trying to break free.
She tripped and fell on her ass in a heap. Xue Yang turned around and laughed at her.
“Nice try,” he said. “Stupid move, though.”
She glared at him. Or, well, more or less in his direction.
“You shouldn’t try to steal from someone you know you’re going to see again, and who knows you,” Xue Yang said. “And you really shouldn’t try to steal from me, specifically.”
“I’m not scared of you,” a-Qing said.
“That’s stupid,” Xue Yang said. “I could kill you in my sleep.”
“I could kill you in your sleep,” a-Qing shot back with barely a hesitation, which made him laugh both because it was funny and because she really did have no idea. “Besides, I just wanted to see if I could.”
“Better luck next time,” Xue Yang said. “But if I catch you at it again it’s gonna hurt.”
A-Qing frowned at him, narrowing her white eyes. “You said you grew up poor,” she said. “So how’d you become a cultivator, anyway? Aren’t cultivators all either rich or daoshi?”
“What, you don’t think I’m a daoshi?”
“If you’re a daoshi I’m the Chief Cultivator,” a-Qing said. Xue Yang pictured a-Qing wearing Jin Guangyao’s elaborate robes and had to laugh.
“Okay, okay, you caught me,” Xue Yang said. “I’m not. I’m just good at what I do. Living proof that those stories about cultivators who come up out of the gutter to make good are only mostly bullshit.”
A-Qing frowned harder. “I don’t believe it,” she announced.
“Don’t believe what, that they’re mostly bullshit?”
“No, that you’re good enough that someone just picked you up off the street and took you home,” a-Qing said. “Jackass.”
“Shows what you know,” Xue Yang said, and bit back a smile before saying, “I had sects fighting over me.”
“Bullshit!”
“True story.”
“It was a serious question,” a-Qing said irritably.
“Why, do you want to be one yourself?” Xue Yang asked. “Why don’t you ask Daozhang to train you, then? Or is it just that you’re a nosy little brat?”
She scooped a rock up off the ground and threw it at him. He leaned to the side to avoid it. “Careful, brat,” he said. “If you hit me with one of those I will hit back.” She just glowered at him and finally he huffed and said, “you want something bad enough and you find a way to take it. I decided I wanted to learn to cultivate. So I did.”
Which was simplifying and leaving out a hell of a lot, but he didn’t really want to go into that and she didn’t need to know any of it.
A-Qing chewed on one of her nails. “Where’d you grow up, then?”
“Wondering if we have friends in common?”
“People ask other people questions about themselves all the time,” a-Qing said irritably. “Just to get to know them.”
“Aw, Qingqing,” Xue Yang said, sugar-sweet. “You want to get to know me?”
“Not anymore,” a-Qing snapped, and turned on her heel to flounce away.
“It doesn’t matter,” Xue Yang said after her, though he wasn’t sure why. She stopped. “It’s all the same, isn’t it? A gutter’s a gutter no matter what city it’s in.”
A-Qing was quiet for a while. “Why are you staying here?” she asked, finally. “You’re better now. Mostly. You could go.”
It sounded like a challenge. Xue Yang stretched his arms overhead. “You want me gone that bad?” he said casually. A-Qing turned around with a loud huff.
“I just want to know.”
“Okay,” Xue Yang said after a moment. “You want me to tell you the truth?”
She looked suspicious, but nodded.
“The truth is,” Xue Yang said, “I’m just sticking around because I want to fuck Xiao Xingchen-daozhang. You have no idea how pretty he is.”
A-Qing gaped at him a moment before she said, with great feeling, “you’re disgusting.”
Xue Yang beamed at her. “Takes one to know one,” he said. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous-”
“Disgusting!” she said, louder, and made a vehement exit as he laughed after her.
Xue Yang had done the math. It wasn’t very difficult math. Things kept going like they were now, they were going to be out of money in a week and going hungry a week after that.
Xiao Xingchen was going to starve them to death because he was too nice to take money for his work.
Fuck that.
He waited until Xiao Xingchen was off doing...something about the rites for someone’s dead grandmother, maybe, he hadn’t been paying much attention, found a-Qing, and knocked on her head.
“Hey, blind girl,” he said. “You’re coming with me.”
She spun around, clutching her stick to her chest and glaring at him. Or in his general direction, anyway. “Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “My name is a-Qing. A-Qing. Are you too stupid to remember?”
“Whatever,” Xue Yang said. “I don’t care. Come on.” He grabbed her arm and tugged.
“Come on where,” a-Qing insisted, digging in her heels and resisting with surprising strength. “I don’t want to go anywhere with you. Let go of me!”
Xue Yang let go. He considered giving up on this whole idea and going at it on his own. It’d work better with her, but…
He considered her. He’d need her cooperation anyway.
“Listen up,” he said. “Daozhang doesn’t know shit about money. We’re just about broke. And I don’t know about you, but I’m not interested in going hungry.”
A-Qing’s eyes narrowed. “What’s your point,” she said, acutely suspicious.
“My point is someone here needs to get us some resources to work with,” Xue Yang said. “So we’re going to run one on some idiot with a fat purse. Are you game or not?”
A-Qing’s eyes widened in a perfect expression of indignance. “You mean you’re going to steal from someone?”
“Qingqing,” Xue Yang said, with extremely false patience, “Xiao Xingchen told me you met cause you stole off him.”
“I’m not stealing from anyone anymore,” she said piously. “Daozhang doesn’t like it.” She sounded absolutely sincere. Xue Yang just waited, and after a moment she fidgeted a little. “What?”
“You’re a little liar,” Xue Yang said. “Daozhang doesn’t like it. I don’t care. And this’ll be a lot easier, and a lot more effective, with you there. You’re young enough for people to still feel sorry for you, and the blind thing helps even more.”
A-Qing stayed as she was for a moment longer and then deflated, slightly. She eyed him.
“You owe me,” she said.
“No, I don’t,” Xue Yang said. “This is gonna pay for your food too, little thief.”
“We can’t do it here,” she said. Already warming up now that she’d made up her fucking mind.
“No,” Xue Yang said. “We absolutely can do it here.”
“We live here. People know who we are. Weren’t you the one who told me that was a bad idea?”
“It usually is,” Xue Yang said cheerfully. “For this one it’s actually better that they know you. It’ll help.”
Now she was paying attention. Interested, even. There was something about that that pleased him a little. She was also studying him with a new curiosity that spurred him to say, “I told you I grew up with nothing. I’m probably better at this than you are.”
Her expression immediately darkened to a scowl. “You are not.”
“Uh huh,” Xue Yang said. “Though you do have the advantage of being a helpless little kid.”
“I’m not helpless and I’m not a kid!”
“Pathetic,” Xue Yang said. “Weak, fragile-”
A-Qing swung her stick at him and Xue Yang couldn’t help a laugh. “I’ll show you fragile,” she hissed.
“Save it,” Xue Yang said. “We’ve got a job to do. Kid.”
“Fuck you,” a-Qing said.
She was a natural. Turned out they worked well together.
“Where did this come from?” Xiao Xingchen asked, holding the purse Xue Yang dropped in his hand.
“Hard day’s work, Daozhang,” Xue Yang said. “Me and a-Qing were busy.”
His head turned in a-Qing’s direction. She swung her feet back and forth. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess the evil thing isn’t completely useless.”
He threw a piece of candy at her and it bounced off her forehead. “Who’s useless, little blind girl,” he said.
“Still you,” a-Qing said. “Mostly.”
The expression on Xiao Xingchen’s face was dubious, but also like he was trying not to smile. He didn’t ask any more questions.
“Was that story true?”
Xue Yang did not open his eyes. He was enjoying the brief glimpse of sunlight and its warmth on his face while it lasted, and he’d been on the edge of drifting off. “What story,” he said. “The one about the farmer’s wife or-”
“No, stupid,” a-Qing said. “The other one. About the kid and the pastries.”
“What d’you think, little blind brat?” he said after a moment. “If you’re here to give me more shit about not telling good stories, I’ve got one that’ll give you nightmares.”
“Why are you such a bastard,” a-Qing said. “I’m just asking a question.”
Xue Yang opened one eye and looked at her. She was perched on top of one of the coffins, legs crossed and stick across her knees.
“Yeah,” he said after a moment. “It’s true. Consider it a cautionary tale about what happens if you’re stupid. You don’t get anything you don’t take for yourself.”
“It was you,” a-Qing said. It wasn’t a question. Xue Yang tapped the fingers of his left hand restlessly against his stomach. “Right?”
His stomach tightened up. Stupid, telling that story at all. “Yeah,” he said after a brief pause. “I was weak and stupid once. Maybe you’ll grow out of it too.”
For once, she didn’t rise to the jab, just kept frowning. Xue Yang sat up. “What’re you on this for? I thought you didn’t like the story, now you’ve got all these questions-”
“Someone should beat them up,” a-Qing said, with sudden vehemence. Xue Yang blinked.
“What?”
“Those guys,” she said. “The ones in the story. They deserve to get beaten. Should know how it feels.”
“Wow,” Xue Yang said after a beat. “Pretty violent of you, Qingqing. What would Daozhang think?”
“People like that,” a-Qing said, ignoring him completely, “they think they can just do anything and nobody can stop them because they’re too important. Walking around like they own everything they see just because they’ve got money. Like that makes them better than other people, or something.”
Xue Yang stared at her, sort of fascinated.
“Daozhang doesn’t have money,” a-Qing said, “and he’s better than all those people combined.”
She glared at him with her weird white eyes like she was daring him to disagree, but she didn’t actually give him a chance to say anything before she was off again.
“And just because someone doesn’t have a home or whatever doesn’t mean people get to kick them around and treat them like trash. Someone should take away all their stuff and see how they like it!”
Xue Yang stared at her a moment longer, then huffed out a soundless laugh. “You’re not going to get any argument from me,” he said. “So who gets their stuff? You?”
“Why not,” a-Qing said.
Xue Yang sat up slowly. “I want half,” he said. A-Qing frowned, and he said, “hey, come on. You’re going to need help and you know Xiao Xingchen won’t.”
“Fine,” she said after a moment. “Half. And we’ll get one of those big manor houses-”
Xue Yang thought of Chang Manor and a laugh bubbled up. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, for sure. Huge. You’ll sleep in a different bed every night. Or we can bring your coffin just so it feels familiar.”
She frowned at him. Xue Yang leaned back on his hands, considered her, and decided to push.
“Don’t see why we should stop at taking them for all they’re worth,” he said. “Cut off their hands and feet so they have to crawl in the mud.”
A-Qing looked briefly shocked. A little scared, like she couldn’t decide if he was serious.
Xue Yang let the moment stretch just a little too long before he laughed. “Nah,” he said. “Sounds like too much work.”
A-Qing relaxed a little, though the unease didn’t quite disappear all the way. After a moment she just said, “it was still a stupid story, though.”
“Everyone’s a critic,” Xue Yang said.
“Asshole,” a-Qing said, but it almost sounded friendly.
year two.
Xue Yang had never had much use for the other street kids, not mostly. You couldn’t trust anyone - never knew when they might turn on you when the pickings were bad, or might turn on you just because. Sometimes, though, especially when he was still weak and stupid, he remembered sleeping huddled together with two or three other skinny, shivering bodies and trying to stay warm.
It’d been storming for two days straight. Bad storming, with wind and sheets of rain and everything. It wasn’t even that cold, but huddled into the one room that wasn’t leaking with the wind howling like a hungry wolf, it felt familiar.
“You said you fixed it,” a-Qing snapped, thin blanket wrapped around her like swaddling clothes and knees pulled up to her chest.
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t expecting Leigong to come knocking around.”
“Probably for you,” a-Qing said.
“A-Qing, friend,” Xiao Xingchen said, sounding tired. “A storm is bad enough without arguing amongst ourselves.”
A-Qing glowered at him. Xue Yang huffed. “Who’s arguing,” he said. “I’m not arguing. Qingqing is just being a brat.”
A-Qing made a rude gesture in his direction. Xue Yang wished he had something to throw at her.
“It’s not fair,” a-Qing said. “You guys can just - make yourselves be warm. I’m freezing.”
“You can have my blanket,” Xiao Xingchen offered.
“I’m not going to take your blanket, Daozhang,” a-Qing said. “Why don’t you give me yours, asshole?”
“I don’t want to,” Xue Yang said. “Here, how about this. I’m thinking of a number between one and a hundred. If you can guess it then–”
“You’re the worst,” a-Qing said. “I hope the roof starts leaking right over your head.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Xue Yang said. “And I hope you drown in a puddle.”
“Stop it,” Xiao Xingchen said, more sharply. “Can’t you do something other than - snipe at each other?”
Both he and a-Qing went silent. A-Qing looked a little sheepish and like she was pissed about it. For his part Xue Yang wanted to say I could do a lot worse than snipe at her, Daozhang, a flare of temper hot in his stomach, but he pressed it down.
A gust of wind blew hard enough to rattle the walls. A-Qing jumped.
“What,” Xue Yang said. “Scared of storms, Qingqing?”
“No,” she said angrily. “I just…”
She stopped, though. Just curled up a little tighter. Xue Yang eyed her and then glanced at Xiao Xingchen.
“Hey,” he said. “Do you know the story about Hu Jintao?”
A-Qing frowned a little. Xiao Xingchen perked up, looking intrigued. “No,” he said.
“I don’t know,” a-Qing said. “Maybe by some other name.” She sounded guarded. Xue Yang stretched.
“I could tell you,” he said. “If you wanted.”
“Yes,” Xiao Xingchen said eagerly. A-Qing’s face scrunched up, but Xue Yang could see a glint of curiosity in her eyes.
“Fine,” she said. “Whatever.”
“All right then,” Xue Yang said, settling in. “So. Years and years ago, there was this man, Hu Jintao-”
“Is this a true story?” Xiao Xingchen asked.
“Don’t interrupt, Daozhang,” Xue Yang said amiably. “Maybe it is and maybe it isn’t, who knows.”
“That means it’s not,” a-Qing said.
“Quiet, brat,” Xue Yang said. “Anyway, Hu Jintao was an ordinary man with a little farm. Not wealthy but not too poor, either, and he lived a nice, simple life in a nice, simple village with his wife, who was pretty but not beautiful. And he was happy, mostly, even if sometimes he dreamed of bigger and better things - more money, a nicer house. A prettier wife,” he added. Xiao Xingchen frowned disapprovingly, but he didn’t interrupt.
“So every few months,” Xue Yang went on, “Hu Jintao would leave his farm and walk all the way to the town, where he’d sell their eggs and milk and things, and buy everything they needed that they couldn’t make themselves or get out of the ground. And then he’d walk all the way back. And it wasn’t a short way. Usually it’d take him almost the whole day getting there, and then he had to turn around and go back, in the dark, cause inns were too expensive. And he always argued with his wife when he got home. She’d say,” and Xue Yang shifted his voice into a higher register, a little shrill, “‘why didn’t you get more money for our wares? Are you trying to beggar us?’ and then he’d say,” changing his voice again, “‘if you think you can do better why don’t you just go yourself?’”
A-Qing giggled, just a little and hastily muffled. Xiao Xingchen laughed.
“You’re doing voices?” he said eagerly.
“Well, yeah,” Xue Yang said. “Obviously. So anyway - then his wife would come back and say ‘if you want me to get kidnapped by bandits on the side of the road, Jintao-er, why don’t you just say so right now!’ And then Hu Jintao: ‘they’d just return you the next day!’”
Xiao Xingchen was smiling. “It doesn’t sound like a very good marriage,” he said.
“They always made up the next day,” Xue Yang said. “And she was a really good cook, and he fucked like a horse, so I guess they figured it was worth it.”
“Friend!” Xiao Xingchen said, sounding shocked but also like he was going to laugh. A-Qing made a face at him.
“I’m just telling the story,” Xue Yang said. “Don’t get mad at me.”
Xiao Xingchen shook his head, still smiling. “If this is going to be some dirty,” a-Qing started to say.
“It’s not, it’s not,” Xue Yang said. “I’m just giving you the background. So anyway, it was that time again, and Hu Jintao dragged his feet but he packed up the goods he was going to sell and kissed his wife and set off for town.
“The trip there was pretty uneventful,” Xue Yang said, “and the selling was - well, same as it always was. Lots of haggling and pissy customers and people trying to cheat and a pickpocket who tried to take his whole coin purse, so nothing that exciting.” Xiao Xingchen looked entranced; a-Qing, when he checked, still looked unimpressed.
“The day came to an end,” Xue Yang said, “and Hu Jintao headed off home, just like always, with night starting to fall.”
He paused. The wind howled, helpfully dramatic.
“The road was empty and quiet,” Xue Yang said, lowering his voice. “Pitch black, and the moon was covered up with clouds so Hu Jintao only had his lantern for light as he walked. And it was cold, too. And then it started raining, and he was too far along to go back but a long ways from home. And then he saw it: lights, twinkling merrily in the darkness, off to his left.”
Now he had a-Qing’s attention. She didn’t want to look like it, but he had it. Xiao Xingchen leaned forward.
“What kind of lights,” he said.
“I’ll tell you in a minute,” Xue Yang said. “There you go interrupting again. Well, obviously Hu Jintao stops. And at first he thinks maybe it’s a group of bandits, but then he hears laughter, and the lights are warm and bright and his fingers have started going numb. So he heads toward the lights, and pretty quick it’s clear that the lights are lanterns, and he’s standing in front of a grand manor house.
“The funny thing is,” Xue Yang said, “Hu Jintao has walked this way a hundred times, maybe more, and he’s pretty sure he’s never seen a house like this along the road.” Xiao Xingchen opened his mouth, appeared to remember himself, and closed it again. “But it is pretty dark, half that time. And he doesn’t exactly do much sightseeing along the way. And it’s really cold and really wet and the lanterns look so warm and inviting, and maybe they have a stable or a shed where he could at least wait out the night. His wife’s already going to yell at him, anyway.
“So he goes up to the front door and knocks.”
Xue Yang paused to check on his audience. Both, he observed, pleased, listening closely. A-Qing had scooted a little closer.
“The door opens,” Xue Yang said, “and light just pours out from inside, and standing there is the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. She’s all in red, like she’s getting ready for a wedding, and it looks like it’d cost as much as a whole year’s work. Her lips are painted bright red and her hair’s like black silk. The only thing is her smile. It seems strange. Maybe just a little too wide, like she knows a joke and it’s on you.”
“Creepy,” a-Qing said.
“Mm,” Xue Yang said. “But he didn’t think about it for very long. ‘Good evening, furen,’ he says,” and Xue Yang stammered a little, like he was shivering, or uncertain. “‘I’ve been caught out in this storm and wondered if you had a place I could take shelter, if you would be so kind.’
“The woman in the doorway smiles at him - or maybe she never stopped smiling. ‘Of course,’ she says. ‘I welcome travelers in need, and you’ve come on a fortuitous night. Come inside and join our celebration.’
“‘Celebration of what?’ asks Hu Jintao, and she raises her perfect eyebrows and asks, ‘who needs a reason to celebrate?’ And, well, how do you argue with that? And why would he? So Hu Jintao follows her inside, into the manor where it’s warm and dry.”
“It was warm and dry?” Xiao Xingchen burst in. “Is it a real house?”
“Daozhang,” a-Qing said. Xue Yang laughed.
“Now who’s impatient,” he said. “I’m not done with the story.”
Xiao Xingchen sighed, giving him an exaggerated pout that he couldn’t keep for long. Xue Yang cracked his neck to one side, glanced at a-Qing, and kept going.
“Anyway, inside it’s the grandest, fanciest party you’ve never been to - than you’ve ever even imagined. There’re people all around, all dressed up, but nobody seems to even look twice at his clothes, which you could call plain, if you felt like being nice. And they’re all very friendly to him, happy to talk to him, though afterwards he can’t really remember what they talked about. He remembers being served food, too, but he didn’t see anyone else eating or drinking.
“And the woman in the red dress stays with him, smiling and laughing at everything he says and looking at him like he’s the handsomest man she’s ever seen.”
“Stupid,” a-Qing said.
“Like you’re not a vain little brat,” Xue Yang said. “Anyway - sure, Hu Jintao’s flattered. But he remembers his wife, and how angry she’d be if he didn’t come home like she expects. ‘Thank you so much,’ he says to the woman. ‘But I have to go.’
“‘Right now?’ she says. ‘But it is so dark, and cold, out there. The storm hasn’t passed. Why are you in such a hurry to leave?’”
He shifted his voice again, making it a sort of lilting, too sweet tone, and watched a-Qing shiver. Xue Yang grinned, to himself, and paused for several moments.
“He should leave,” Xiao Xingchen said. This time a-Qing made a face at him.
“What’d he say,” she said.
“What do you think he said?” Xue Yang said. “I can tell you it wasn’t no. Not then, and not later, either, when she led him up the stairs, and into a bedroom, and then into her bed - and he didn’t say no to anything else, either. I can tell you Hu Jintao doesn’t get a lot of sleep that night. He doesn’t even notice when the storm stops. All he really remembers is the way the woman smiles. A little too big. A little too much. And sometimes it seems like she never stops at all.”
He paused again. “Come on,” a-Qing said. “Now you’re just dragging it out.”
“Stories have a pace, Qingqing,” he said. “Don’t rush me.
“Hu Jintao doesn’t remember going to sleep, but he must’ve, cause he wakes up and it’s completely dark. No lanterns, and no soft silk sheets. He’s wearing clothes, but they’re not his clothes. And he’s lying down on something, but it’s not a bed. Not very comfortable, either, so he gets up, really fucking confused, obviously. He gropes around in the dark until he finds his pack and gets out his matches. He’s so cold that he wastes two before one lights right, cause his hands are shaking so hard. But finally he manages to do it.” Xue Yang paused.
Xiao Xingchen was leaning forward. “What’d he see,” he said. A-Qing scowled in his direction.
“You gotta wait, Daozhang,” she said. “Don’t interrupt!” Xiao Xingchen looked a little sheepish. Xue Yang flashed her a grin before he remembered she wouldn’t see it.
“He wasn’t in a great house,” Xue Yang said, lowering his voice. “There were no well-dressed guests. He was standing inside a grand tomb. And in front of him–”
Xiao Xingchen sucked in a breath.
“In front of him,” Xue Yang said, even lower, “was an open coffin - and inside it, the mummified remains of a woman, wearing the rotted remains of a red dress, her mouth stretched into a horrible smile.”
“Well, obviously he turned around and ran,” Xue Yang said. “As fast as he could, all the way back to his home, and his wife, and he didn’t tell anyone what he’d seen.”
Xiao Xingchen exhaled, but a-Qing was still rapt, listening closely. It brought up a strange little thrill, her paying such close attention and not because she was suspicious, or anything. Just because she liked what he was saying.
“Ten days later, though,” Xue Yang said, “his wife found him stone-cold dead. And his face,” he paused, and lowered his voice. “His eyes were wide open and terrified, like he’d been scared to death. But his mouth was contorted in a terrible smile.”
“Oh,” Xiao Xingchen said. A-Qing let out a big exhale that sounded like she must’ve been holding it.
Xue Yang took a little seated bow. “And that,” he said, “is the story of Hu Jintao and the lady dressed in red.”
“I didn’t know that one,” a-Qing said. It was a little grudging. But she was clutching her blanket and he could see the delighted little fear on her face.
“Yeah,” Xue Yang said. “I made it up.”
“You did?” Xiao Xingchen said, at the same time as a-Qing said, “no you didn’t.”
“Did so,” Xue Yang said.
A-Qing looked like she was going to keep arguing, for a moment, but then she just huffed and said, “I guess it was pretty good.”
“It was great,” Xue Yang said. “You just don’t want to admit it.”
“It was okay,” a-Qing said.
“I liked it,” Xiao Xingchen said. “Even if - someone should lay that poor woman - and her household - to rest.”
Xue Yang made a face at him. “Probably some cultivator’ll come along and fix it, but that’s not the point of the story.”
A gust of wind blew by. A-Qing jumped a little, again, and Xue Yang laughed. She glared in his general direction, but it didn’t last as long as usual. She fidgeted.
“Do you have any other ones?”
Xue Yang couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, Qingqing, I do.”
“Well,” a-Qing said after another pause. “It’s not like we have anything else to do.”
Xiao Xingchen laughed. So did Xue Yang.
“Okay,” he said. “But don’t blame me if you can’t sleep later on. How about the one with Fang Chen and the dancing shoes?”
“No,” Xiao Xingchen said again.
“I have,” a-Qing said. “But–” She glanced at Xiao Xingchen and then said, primly, “since Daozhang doesn’t know it, I guess I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”
“It was kind of you,” Xiao Xingchen told him later. “Distracting a-Qing with the stories. Entertaining us like that.”
Xue Yang laughed. “Yeah,” he said. “That’s me. Kind as fuck.”
Xiao Xingchen smiled at him, the little one that wrenched him sideways and made him want to see him bleed. “Next time it storms,” he said, “I hope you’ll do it again.”
“I’ll think about it,” Xue Yang said. “No promises.”
A-Qing, obviously, didn’t say anything about it. But he caught her staring sort of in his direction with a little frown, like she was trying to figure something out.
“I’m worried about a-Qing,” Xiao Xingchen said.
“Me too,” Xue Yang said, not looking up from the blanket he was darning. “With her personality she’s going to die an old maid.”
“Friend,” Xiao Xingchen said, gently reproachful. It made his teeth itch but fine, whatever.
“Okay, okay,” he said. “You’re worried about her why? She’s not stupid and she’s a scrappy little brat.”
“I don’t like leaving her alone here when we’re hunting.”
Xue Yang snorted. “Really? That’s it? No dead things are going to come in here, it’s warded. If she goes wandering around outside, honestly that’s on her-”
“No,” Xiao Xingchen said, his voice a little sharper, “it isn’t, but that’s not what I meant.”
It took Xue Yang a moment to see what he was getting at and then he laughed, though it came out less nice than he meant it to. “Daozhang! Are you suspicious of the intentions of our good neighbors?”
Xiao Xingchen frowned at him. “I’m not so naive as that,” he protested, and Xue Yang did not say oh yes you are, you have no idea how naive you are. “I know that people are not always kind. And a-Qing has...a talent for mischief.”
“Is that a nice way of saying she’s got a gift for pissing people off?” Xue Yang said. Xiao Xingchen frowned harder at him and he exhaled hard through his nose. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. So what are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know,” Xiao Xingchen said with a sigh. “And it doesn’t help that she got offended when I brought it up.”
“If she thinks she can protect herself, let her,” Xue Yang said. “Honestly, in a fight between her and most people here, I’d probably bet on her.”
Xiao Xingchen cast his face down, but Xue Yang could see him smiling a little.
Of course after he said that, within the week a-Qing came slinking back into the yizhuang with a spectacular black eye and a cut on her lip. Xue Yang sat up fast.
“The fuck happened to you,” he said.
“None of your business,” she spat.
“What, did you run into a wall? Trip and fall on your face? Shit, wish I could’ve seen-”
“Shut up and piss off,” she hissed. He held up his hands.
“Touchy.” He watched as she turned her back and kept walking, following the way she moved. He cocked his head to the side, chewed on his lip a moment, and then said, “hey, Qingqing. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to catch a fist with your face?”
A-Qing stopped. Xue Yang hopped to his feet and strolled over to her. “Nice eye,” he said.
“Fuck you,” a-Qing said, her shoulders hunching up.
“Wow,” Xue Yang said. “Rude. What would Daozhang think, hearing you talk like that?”
“Fuck you,” a-Qing said louder, her hands balling into fists.
“Keep going,” Xue Yang said, “and I’ll tell Xiao Xingchen you got in a fight and lost. He’ll be so upset. See if you ever leave the yizhuang on your own again-”
“What do you want, you piece of dog shit,” a-Qing snapped.
“Sit down and shut up,” Xue Yang said, “and I’ll set your wrist for you. Doesn’t look like a full break, so if you brace it and don’t use it for a while you’ll be fine.”
A-Qing turned around. She looked both surprised and suspicious. Xue Yang waited for pragmatism to win out, and after a moment it did. She didn’t say anything, but she tapped her way over to the steps and sat down.
“Knew you had a half a brain in there,” Xue Yang said. He sat down next to her and went to work. Wasn’t like he didn’t know what he was doing, and if he wasn’t nice, he could still be effective.
She screamed like a baby rabbit when he twitched her wrist back into line. He laughed at her. “Fuck,” he said. “You think that hurts? Baby.”
“Shut up,” she said. Her voice wobbled a little. Xue Yang snorted and bound it in place, then sat back.
“So what’d you do,” he said.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“What,” Xue Yang said. “Someone just decided out of nowhere they wanted to beat your ass? Actually, that doesn’t sound that unlikely-”
A-Qing pressed her lips together and Xue Yang prodded her shoulder. “Come on.”
“What’s it to you,” she said, swatting his hand away.
“I wanna know who to congratulate,” he said. A-Qing glared at him harder and started to get up; his hand snapped out and grabbed her arm. “Hey, come on. Seriously.”
“Why should I tell you anything,” she said.
“Because if you don’t I’m going to tell Daozhang and he’ll get upset and mope about it for a week,” Xue Yang said.
That made a little bit of an impact. Good.
“‘sides,” he said, “I want to know who I need to fuck up.”
A-Qing stopped trying to pull her arm free and just held very still, almost frozen. For a second he thought he saw a flicker of fear on her face but it was gone fast. “I can deal with it fine on my own.”
A jolt of frustration went through him and Xue Yang let her go with a little shove. “Whatever, brat,” he said. “Suit yourself. I was just offering to help.” He got up, annoyed. You tried to be nice and...ungrateful little chit.
“Don’t tell Daozhang,” she blurted out. Xue Yang glanced at her.
“I won’t,” he said after a moment, because Xiao Xingchen would just get upset and he would mope about it for a week. “But he’s going to notice the wrist so you’d better come up with an excuse. You’re welcome for that, by the way.” He turned around. Maybe he could find someone to fuck up just for the fun of it.
“Thanks,” a-Qing said. She sounded like she was choking on it, a little. Then, “if you actually want to be helpful, you’d teach me knife fighting.”
“I’m not giving you a knife, Qingqing,” Xue Yang said. “I don’t want to end up with it in my back if you get pissy about something. Besides, I have no idea how it’d work when you can’t see anything.”
“It works for Daozhang,” a-Qing shot back.
“Yeah,” Xue Yang said. “For Xiao Xingchen. You’re just not that special.”
“Neither are you,” a-Qing snapped. Xue Yang almost snarled at her, but after a moment just laughed.
“It’s true you are more like me than him,” he said. “But nobody’s going to beat me up in a back alley. You, though...guess you just need to figure out how to run faster.”
When a-Qing came tapping her way back in from ‘scrap-collecting’ (her favorite euphemism for ‘pick-pocketing’), Xue Yang threw the piece of wood at her head. It hit her forehead and bounced off, and she yelped in surprise and indignation. “Ow!” she said. “What was that for!”
“You,” Xue Yang said, getting up and looking around for where Xiao Xingchen might’ve gone. Should put some kind of leash on him. Who knew what’d happen if he wandered off, he might bring home some other stray. They could barely afford a-Qing let alone another one.
“What’s that mean? Are you just going to throw things at me randomly now? Do you think you can do that because I’m blind and you know I can’t catch them?”
“I’d do it if you could see, too,” Xue Yang said. “But I meant it’s for you. I was fucking around and made something, figure you’re a good first test subject to try it out on.”
A-Qing looked alarmed. “I’m not a test subject,” she said. “I’m not going to let you experiment with me, what is it supposed to do anyway-”
“It makes you hideously ugly,” Xue Yang said. “Not that you need any help.”
A-Qing puffed up like an angry bird and Xue Yang laughed. “No, you idiot. It’s supposed to get warm when there’s nasty shit nearby.”
A-Qing gave him a puzzled look. “It’s supposed to…what?”
“Are you going deaf now? Shit, Qingqing, that’s going to make things pretty hard for all of us-”
“I heard you,” a-Qing hissed. “But I don’t - you’re saying this is some kind of protection charm?”
“No,” Xue Yang said. “It’s just an alert. Well, it’ll keep really weak stuff away, but mostly it just lets you know something’s there. I figured it could be useful for Daozhang and me out hunting but I wanted to try it on you first to make sure there’s no weird side effects.”
A-Qing looked alarmed again. “Like what?”
“No idea,” Xue Yang said. “Put it on and I’ll let you know if I notice any.”
“Why the fuck would I do that?”
“Because I said so,” Xue Yang tried. She just stared mulishly at him, utterly unmoved. Yeah, he hadn’t figured that’d work, but it was worth a try. He huffed. “Whatever,” he said. “Up to you, keep it or don’t, doesn’t matter to me.” He got up to leave, more annoyed than really made sense.
He came back a while later and ignored a-Qing in the courtyard to go find Xiao Xingchen making rice. “Hey, handsome,” Xue Yang said, and ignored the faint, warm pleasure when Xiao Xingchen just smiled without startling. He recognized the sound of Xue Yang’s footsteps, now.
“My friend,” he said. “You didn’t tell me that you were making a protection talisman for a-Qing.”
“I wasn’t,” Xue Yang said immediately. “I was just seeing if I could make something, and she was right there.”
“Mm,” Xiao Xingchen said. He sounded amused, which made Xue Yang scowl. “She brought it to me to ask what it was. Apparently you’d told her that there might be ‘weird side effects.’”
“I don’t know,” Xue Yang said. “I’d never made one like that before.”
“I told her that I saw no reason there should be.”
“If you’re wrong I’m blaming you,” Xue Yang said. Xiao Xingchen actually laughed. Xue Yang wasn’t quite sure what was funny.
“You may,” he said. “But I doubt I’m wrong.”
Xue Yang frowned at him. “I feel like something’s going on you’re not saying.”
“Mm,” Xiao Xingchen said. He touched Xue Yang’s face, then his shoulder; leaned forward and kissed his forehead and then his mouth. “Thank you.”
Xue Yang’s face got warm. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Medical supplies cost money, is all. We can’t afford that shit if she gets in some kind of trouble. Or at least I wouldn’t pay for it.”
“Mm,” Xiao Xingchen said again. “I’m sure you wouldn’t.”
Now he sounded smug. Xue Yang didn’t know what the fuck he had to feel smug about.
Neither of them needed to know about the other thing he’d tucked in there that would hit anyone who attacked her with a nasty - really nasty - backlash. He figured it’d be funny the first time it happened. A-Qing would freak the fuck out.
Well. It would hit anyone other than him. He didn’t have any plans, or anything, but it was better safe than sorry.
year three.
Winter in Yi City was fucking miserable.
Winter was, as far as Xue Yang was concerned, the worst season to begin with. The bad weather made his hand hurt like a bitch more often than not, and winter in his head still meant finding somewhere to hole up indoors or else just finding a place that kept the wind off and hoping it didn’t get too cold.
And in Yi City it just fucking - rained. All the fucking time.
So his hand hurt and it was cold and sure, he’d done this before, the last two years, but right now Xue Yang was wondering why the fuck he’d decided to stay here and maybe he should just kill Xiao Xingchen already and move on.
He’d already snapped at a-Qing once today, and Xiao Xingchen had scolded him about it - scolded him! like he was some naughty kid - so Xue Yang had snapped at him and that made Xiao Xingchen annoyed with him too and all in all it was just a shitty day in a shitty season.
He’d gone outside to get some fucking space and of course then it’d started raining. Again.
For fuck’s sake.
“Hey, asshole,” a-Qing called.
“What,” Xue Yang said flatly. Yeah, he was getting wet. So what? He wasn’t going to just go slinking back indoors like a dog.
“Are you just going to stand out there all day?”
“I’m sitting,” Xue Yang said. A-Qing made a derisive noise.
“You know what I mean. Are you going to sit out there all day?”
Xue Yang pressed his back teeth together. “Oh, fuck off,” he said. A-Qing was quiet long enough he thought she might’ve actually fucked off, only then he heard footsteps squishing over and there she was.
“Don’t be stupid,” she said. “I know why you’re being such a dick and sitting out here sulking’s not gonna help.”
“I’m not sulking,” Xue Yang said.
“Ha,” a-Qing said. “Sure.”
“And what do you know, blind girl,” he added. “You don’t know shit. You’re just a conniving little-”
“You always get pissy when the weather’s bad,” she interrupted.
Xue Yang tensed up. “Yeah, and? Very smart, Qingqing. I’m impressed.”
“I knew a man who’d had his leg broken and he said he knew it was going to storm cause it’d start hurting.”
Xue Yang’s throat closed and his stomach lurched sideways and it was stupid, it was stupid that he’d feel like this. It wasn’t like she could hurt him. She couldn’t. And she didn’t actually know anything either. Not about him, not about this. It wasn’t like people couldn’t tell there was something wrong with his hand, he wasn’t flashing his missing finger around but obviously people noticed.
Maybe it was that she couldn’t even see him and she’d still sensed this about him, this fucking weakness, this stupid lingering ache that stuck around even after he’d reduced the entire Chang Clan to chunks of raw meat.
He’d carved his revenge out of Chang Cian and everything that he loved and Chang Cian still got this from him.
“You shouldn’t poke around in shit that’s not your business, Qingqing,” he said, finally.
“It’s my business when you get all - like this.”
“Like what,” Xue Yang said, a warning in his voice. He watched as a-Qing’s face set in stubborn defiance.
“Daozhang’d help if you asked.”
“Help with what,” Xue Yang snarled. A-Qing stalked up to him and poked him hard in the chest.
“Don’t be like that,” she said. “It’s just stupid. And you’re just making everybody else miserable and if you don’t stop already I’m going to fill your shoes with dog shit.”
Xue Yang stared at her, incredulous. Three quarters his height, blind and weak and unbelievably stupid, what did she think she was doing getting up in his face like this, he’d twist her arms off.
The thought was half-hearted at best. More than angry he was just sort of…
He didn’t know what, exactly.
When had she stopped being scared of him?
“If you fill my shoes with shit I’m going to replace your tea with my piss,” he said. A-Qing gave him a disgusted look.
“Gross,” she said.
“Fair warning. Gloves’ll be off.” Xue Yang flexed his hand until he felt his knuckles pop. A-Qing stuck out her tongue in his direction. But she didn’t leave, still hovering within arm’s reach like she was waiting for something.
“What happened to your hand anyway,” she asked. Xue Yang laughed harshly.
“I fed my finger to a demon so he’d teach me,” he said. A-Qing opened her mouth, then shut it. Xue Yang watched her, eyes hooded, for several more seconds before he said, “guess we’re just a house full of cripples, aren’t we.”
A-Qing frowned at him. “Daozhang’s not crippled, he’s just blind,” she said, “and it doesn’t stop him. Or me. Speak for yourself.”
“Me? I’m doing fine. I’m not the one in danger of tripping and ending up face first in a mud puddle because she was going too fast.”
She turned red. “It was slippery,” she said loudly. “Fuck you!”
“Is that any way to talk to your elders?”
The obscenity she flung back at him almost made him proud.
“A-Qing, don’t bother Chengmei,” said Xiao Xingchen’s voice, emerging a moment before he did. “He came out here for privacy.” Xue Yang heard the slight hesitation, the small uncertainty that still materialized sometimes, like he thought maybe Xue Yang had come out here looking for a chance to disappear and never come back. Or might, if he said the wrong thing.
It was one of those places Xue Yang could see some of the scars Song Lan had left on him. Beautiful, flaws like his eyes that just enhanced the whole, even if sometimes he wanted to tear Song Lan’s throat out for fucking up his Daozhang like he had. Idiot.
“None of that in this coffin house,” Xue Yang said. Xiao Xingchen looked like he wanted to wince, and Xue Yang said, “it’s fine, Daozhang. She’s not bothering me any more than usual.”
A-Qing gave him a meaningful, pointed stare. Xue Yang ignored it. Xiao Xingchen relaxed slightly, but not very much. Xue Yang glanced at a-Qing - still staring at him with her weird eyes - and said, “I can make allowances for meimei.”
A-Qing squawked and swung her stick at him. “Who’s your meimei,” she said. “Shut up!” But Xiao Xingchen’s mouth twitched a little like he was just holding back a smile that he felt like he shouldn’t show.
“Meimei’s so cute,” Xue Yang cooed. “Isn’t she, Daozhang?”
“I’m going to put a dead rat in your soup,” a-Qing warned.
“Sounds tasty.”
Xiao Xingchen did laugh, then, even as a-Qing made a disgusted face.
“Come inside?” he said. “Sitting out here can’t be pleasant.”
“Shows what you know,” Xue Yang said. “But okay, okay. Since you asked so nicely.” He got up and reached out to give a-Qing a little shove with his good hand. “Come on, meimei. It’s too cold out here for a little girl. If you get sick again I’m going to shut you in the shed so I don’t have to listen to you cough.”
“You’re so stupid,” a-Qing hissed, but for some reason she seemed relieved.
It’d been a good day.
Not that anything in particular had actually happened - that was the weird thing about it. Just a day. A day with a slow, sweet morning and a trip to the market to restock Xiao Xingchen’s herbs and it wasn’t anything special, or anything, but here Xue Yang was with a belly full of hot soup and feeling…good. Satisfied.
Happy.
He was also the only one still awake. Xue Yang had bullied Xiao Xingchen into bed a while ago - fuck knew he needed it, after the other night’s hunt where he’d almost gotten himself impaled. Xue Yang was too awake to go wrap himself around Xiao Xingchen no matter how nice it’d be.
Which left him out here in the courtyard, sitting on the roof of the shed and trying to peel the skin off an apple in one piece and thinking idly about how he was going to wake Xiao Xingchen up tomorrow morning.
“Hello?” called a-Qing’s voice, though quietly. “Is that you out there, big jerk?”
“Yeah,” Xue Yang said after a moment where he considered staying quiet so she’d leave him alone, hopefully, but fuck, he was in a good mood. “What’re you doing awake? Go wake up Daozhang if you’re scared cause you had a nightmare or whatever.”
“I don’t want to,” a-Qing said, and then belatedly added, “and I’m not scared.” Her bare feet were quiet on the ground as she walked toward the shed.
“Here,” he said, so she didn’t smack into something and start crying about it, since she’d left her stick inside. She came over and craned her head back.
“Are you on the roof?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Xue Yang said.
“Why?”
“Why not?” Xue Yang looked down at her, tucked the apple in his sleeve, and jumped down. “Don’t scream,” he said, then picked her up and with just a touch of spiritual energy leaped lightly back up onto the roof. A-Qing let out a little squeal and almost punched him in the face; he kept his grip on her until he was sure she wasn’t going to fall off the roof.
“What the fuck!” she said.
“Now you’re on the roof, too,” Xue Yang said, with a bit of a laugh. “Don’t worry, it’s not much of a view so you’re not missing a lot.”
“You could’ve asked,” she hissed. “You can’t just - go around grabbing people!”
“Sure I can, Qingqing,” he said. “Long as it’s you. I have to put up with you all day every day, that gives me grabbing rights.”
“No it doesn’t,” she said.
Xue Yang sat back down. “If you hate it so much I can throw you off,” he said. “It’s not that high so you probably wouldn’t even break anything.”
“Fuck you,” a-Qing said, but after another moment of indignation she sat down too.
For a while they just sat there. Xue Yang kept one eye on a-Qing, but not really cause he thought she was going to do something. Sort of wondering what had her up and wandering around, but it wasn’t like he was going to ask.
“You’re quiet,” she said eventually. “For once.”
“Guess so,” Xue Yang said lazily. “I mean, until you came out here I was on my own, so not doing a lot of talking.”
“Yeah, but-” a-Qing cut off, her eyebrows furrowing. She shifted a little.
Xue Yang hummed and let himself lie back, cushioning his head with his good hand. “Don’t worry, Qingqing. Whatever monsters you were dreaming about I promise I’m scarier.”
“I’m not scared,” a-Qing repeated, indignant, “and who needs you when Daozhang is around, anyway?”
Xue Yang laughed. “Sure,” he said. “You’re not scared.”
“I hate you,” a-Qing said, and Xue Yang almost said yeah, Qingqing, love you too but he caught it in time, even though he wouldn’t mean it, or anything, it was just funny.
“D’you ever think about going somewhere else?” she asked after a long pause. “I mean, another city or something.”
Xue Yang made sort of a pff noise. “Want to go to Lanling, where the streets are made of gold?”
“No,” a-Qing said. “I just mean - this place is creepy. And it feels weird.”
“You’re creepy and you feel weird,” Xue Yang said. “Fit right in.”
“Shut up,” a-Qing said.
“I like it here,” Xue Yang said.
“Of course you do,” a-Qing said. “If anyone here’s creepy and weird-”
He shoved her. “Brat. I just mean...this place is - it belongs to us. You know? It’s - ours.” He’d almost said mine but corrected for it, even if it was true. None of them would be here if it wasn’t for him, which meant he was the one it really belonged to. Xiao Xingchen wouldn’t be here if Song Lan still had his own eyes, and a-Qing wouldn’t be here if Xiao Xingchen hadn’t been wandering around on his own. Really, they both owed him.
A-Qing didn’t say anything, and Xue Yang snorted. “No guarantee we’d find a house to squat in where we don’t have to pay anywhere else, either.”
“I guess.” A-Qing was staring down at her feet.
“What,” Xue Yang said, “you miss never knowing where you’re gonna sleep at night?”
“No,” a-Qing said. “Obviously I don’t, I guess I just think - I don’t know. Whatever.”
“Whatever,” Xue Yang said, mimicking her voice. She punched him in the arm.
“You’re the worst,” she said, her face scrunching up. Xue Yang just laughed.
“So cruel, so vicious, for such a sweet little girl,” he said.
“Shut up,” she said, and then let out a jaw cracking yawn. “Ugh. I can’t believe Daozhang thinks you’re funny.”
“He’s got good taste.”
“Nuh uh,” a-Qing said. She listed a little sideways, then righted herself, then started listing again.
“Tired?” Xue Yang asked, on the verge of laughing.
“Take me down,” she ordered. “I’m hungry.”
“Yes, of course, guniang,” he said. “At your service, guniang,” but he took her down. If she fell asleep and fell off the roof she’d make it his fault, somehow. After a moment he pulled the apple out of his sleeve and bonked it against her forehead.
“Here,” he said. “You can have half of this.”
She grabbed it from him, scowling, and then stopped, looking toward him. She seemed surprised, though it was gone fast. “Three-quarters,” she said.
“Half,” Xue Yang repeated. “Now give it back so I can cut it up.”
It wasn’t a very good apple. A little too sour, at least as far as Xue Yang was concerned.
A-Qing fell asleep before she finished her half, sitting right there on the steps outside.
Her head was heavy slumped against his shoulder. There was a little bit of a wheeze to her breathing. She’d better not be coming down with something that’d have her dripping snot for a week.
Xue Yang half moved to push her off and then stopped. She’d just bitch about it if he woke her up. Stupid brat. Like it was his fault she’d fallen asleep on him in the first place. Her bed wasn’t that far. It’d serve her right if he picked her up and dumped her in the midden heap.
He didn’t. Just left her there, snoring away.
If anything happened to her, that’d be...he didn’t think he’d like it, actually.
It was good he hadn’t gotten rid of her back then. Well, he wouldn’t’ve known what he was missing, but it was good to have someone else in this yizhuang who knew how things worked.
A-Qing snuffled a little, wrinkled her nose, and mumbled something in her sleep, slumping a little more heavily against him.
Yeah. It was good he’d let her stay.
year zero.
Stupid fucking bitch.
Someone had told Xiao Xingchen. Someone had heard Song Lan (reeking pile of dung, waste of the flesh he was made out of) say his name, and gone running to Xiao Xingchen, and there was one person, one person he could think of who would do that, who would do that and who Xiao Xingchen (idiot, naive stupid fucking idiot) would believe.
And Xiao Xingchen had - and now he was-
If she’d just kept her mouth shut it would’ve been fine. Things had been good. Him and Xiao Xingchen and her, and she could be annoying but he’d still liked her and she had to go and do this to him? Fuck everything up, ruin everything. Her and Song fucking Lan.
His nose was burning and his guts were one big knot and he felt - something, angry but not.
Back-stabbing, cowardly, lying-
He was going to kill her. Slowly, a little at a time, in pieces. Gouge out her eyes, cut out her tongue, chop off her hands and feed her her fingers one at a time. Drag her mangled corpse back to their house and shout at Xiao Xingchen that this was what happened when he left, this was-
His fingers tightened around Shuanghua’s sheath. The patterns on it felt strange, unfamiliar. He’d give it back when Xiao Xingchen was better, when he could be trusted with it, but for now...
Maybe he shouldn’t kill her. Maybe if he brought her back home then Xiao Xingchen would want to come back. He’d understand that things could just go back to normal. The three of them, just like it’d been before.
That’d make him happy, right? He’d like that. There. He’d just take her eyes, then, which wasn’t enough but he could let it go, call it even. Then they’d go back to the yizhuang together and Xiao Xingchen would stop sulking and get up–
Xue Yang’s thoughts stuttered.
A-Qing was sneaky, but not sneaky enough that he couldn’t track her. He could see her now, too, crouched by a brook just ahead. She looked ragged and exhausted. Must’ve been running ever since she’d left.
There you are, he thought. He lightened his steps until he was standing just behind her, looking down.
She saw him in her reflection, and screamed, scrambling back. She stared at him, wide eyed, terrified. He held out his arms and grinned at her.
“There you are,” he said. “What are you afraid of, Qingqing? You disappeared. I was worried.”
A-Qing took one step back. “Get away from me,” she said, her voice trembling.
“Why? Didn’t you miss me?”
Her hands balled into fists at her sides. She drew herself up. Brave as ever, Xue Yang thought, almost fond, a little proud.
Then she said, “you rotting piece of filth, you disgusting pus-filled monster, I saw what you did!”
Saw. Well, that cleared some things up. He wasn’t really surprised; it’d always been a suspicion at the back of his mind. He’d just let up thinking about it, because it’d stopped being important. A dizzy, distant part of Xue Yang almost wanted to ask which part she meant.
A buzzing started in his ears. “So rude! What would Daozhang think, hearing you talk like that?”
A-Qing’s lips trembled but her voice rose. “How dare you carry his sword? How dare you even talk about him, you’re not worth the dirt under his feet. Go die!”
Xue Yang’s hand tightened around Shuanghua. The buzzing was getting louder and his smile felt like a rictus. “Shut up,” he said. “I don’t care what you think. We’re-”
“He should’ve left you to die in that ditch!”
The fresh stab wound in his stomach throbbed hot.
“If it weren’t for you,” a-Qing said, “we would be happy! We were happy, before you-”
Xue Yang, Xiao Xingchen said, voice dripping with loathing, disgust.
“It’s your fault he’s dead!”
The world was soft and strange and he wondered why he’d ever thought about leaving a-Qing alive.
Hey. Hey, Qingqing. Call me gege. Come on, do it.
Go fuck yourself!
That’s ‘go fuck yourself, gege,’ you little brat.
They didn’t need her. He didn’t need her. Xiao Xingchen was the only thing that mattered.
Xue Yang gathered up her corpse and started back toward Yi City.
It was a long and very quiet walk back.