Work Text:
“Yes, Your Highness. I will not disappoint you.”
-
He slouched on the throne, body reclined to the side and one foot propped up on the smooth stone. The braziers on either side of the elevated platform cast a warm light over his body, a stark contrast to the frigid look in his eyes with which he regarded the hall below. Several people stood there in an orderly row, all with their heads lowered and their hands clasped before them. At first glance, one might wonder what brought a group of people so utterly dissimilar to the same place. Some wore lavish robes, others were dressed in old rags. There were men and women, youths and elders, nobles and beggars. The only thing that unified them was their solemn expressions, like they had just come from a funeral. It was not too far off from the truth – each of these people had taken their memories, their soul, their pain and had laid them to rest. They had freed themselves from the burden of their past to start anew in Ghost Valley. While there was no happiness to be found here either, at least there was no more torment.
These new arrivals had chosen to forget everything that tethered them to the mortal world in order to live in a peaceful void where the grievances of their lives no longer bothered them. After drinking the Meng Po Soup, they were free to live in the vast prison called Ghost Valley.
“Master. I’ve brought tea.”
Wen Kexing, the current master of the Valley, tore his gaze away from the fools below and directed it at the girl who placed a tray on the table next to him.
“How many are there?” he asked and ignored the cup of tea in to instead take a walnut from a plate.
“Fourteen this time, all in all. Four men, ten women.”
He nodded. There were always more women, as the men in this world tended to have fewer grievances, or at least better ways to resolve them.
“Tell your Auntie Luo to take those away who wish to join her department. The rest…” he paused and glanced at the awaiting people, none of which had uttered a word since their arrival. He let his eyes wander over each of their bowed heads. There used to be a time where he had been interested in which characters joined Ghost Valley, but that time had long since passed. Wen Kexing had spent too many years down here to have any energy left to care. He was just about to dismiss the new arrivals and have someone else take care of them when something caught his eyes. Or rather, someone. There was an irregularity in the row of lowered heads. When Wen Kexing’s gaze reached the very end, he was met with a pair of eyes, dark and piercing, that looked unflinchingly into his own. Wen Kexing, without breaking the contact, asked,
“A-Xiang. Where did that man come from?”
A beat of silence as the girl followed her master’s line of sight, then a huff of air. “I don’t know. Wuchang Gui picked up that one. I can find out.”
Of course no one down here had a name unless they gave themselves one or, in rare cases, if those broken remnants of memories the Meng Po Soup didn’t wash away happened to include one. Not that names mattered anymore – most chose to go without one entirely.
Wen Kexing nodded. The man had finally lowered his head, but a part of Wen Kexing’s attention still remained submerged in the depth of that gaze. It was not often that something down here made him linger and contemplate, but there had been something about those eyes Wen Kexing hadn’t seen in a long while. A kind of clarity, almost unsettling for its contrast to the empty faces that occupied this hollow realm. Wen Kexing absently cracked open a walnut and let the shattered shell clatter to the ground, a loud noise in the silence. None of the people reacted, but Wen Kexing saw that the eyes of the man at the end of the row flickered up in a subtle display of emotion which stood out in the vacuousness that surrounded them.
-
Ghost Valley, for all the people it housed, had never once been called a home by any of its residents. From all sides heavy, ragged stone bore in on the narrow streets and the few plants that climbed their way through the rock were dry and colourless. The light of the sun never truly reached into the down here and the only illumination came from the braziers and torches that painted flickering shades all across the stone. Somewhere far up above, one could almost imagine a sliver of sky, cutting between the towering walls of stone that enclosed the valley.
It was a space to exist in, not to live in. A perpetual state of in-between where one was neither dead nor alive. For people who sought respite from the pain of living but weren’t quite ready for the permanence of death, it was ideal. They had chosen this fate, after all. Many were content to live in mindless peace, but some cultivated a persona that differentiated them from the crowd around them. They regained aspirations and desires, manifesting in outbreaks of violence.
Wen Kexing had no need to regain anything. From the very moment he had set foot into the Valley, he had not let go of the resentment that was too heavy to be washed away by the Meng Po Soup. Everything he had to endure, be it manipulation, punishment or torture, had only deepened his hate, until revenge was all he existed for. There was nothing in his mind more important than his goal to one day return to the mortal world and drag it down, lower than even the deepest depths of Ghost Valley. That was Wen Kexing’s only desire. The reason he still kept going despite everything.
There is no time for distractions, he thought as he sat in Ghost Valley’s sole tea house that was nestled in a forlorn alleyway and never housed more than three patrons at a time. No desires meant no needs for luxuries – if the ramshackle establishment could even be called such. It was a sad imitation of what existed in the world above, a reminder of what exactly Ghost Valley did not have. Not even the Valley Master came here. Usually.
There is no time for distractions, Wen Kexing’ grip around the teacup tightened as he stared outside the small window to the dimly lit street beyond. Occasionally someone walked by, but they might have been faceless puppets for all the attention Wen Kexing had to spare for them. His gaze was fixed on the man sitting on the steps that lead to a lower level of the Valley, where those resided whose spirit had been broken so thoroughly that not even the Meng Po Soup could mend it. Wen Kexing ventured down there sometimes, if only to remind himself of the cruelties the world above wrought.
The man on the steps sat utterly still and almost managed to look like just another resigned soul. Almost. Wen Kexing had spent enough time observing people to know that the tautness in his back and his raised head was not something usually seen in the valley. It was just like that clear gaze the man had levelled at Wen Kexing before. It reminded him of something, of –
It doesn’t matter. It’s not important.
The cup shattered in Wen Kexing’s grip. The shards dug into his palm and blood dripped onto the table. Wen Kexing barely felt it; even clenched his fist around the sharp porcelain to bury it further into his skin. But the dull thrum of pain did nothing to avert his attention from the sitting man. For the first time in the many years he had spent down here, there was something on We Kexing’s mind that was not revenge, and it was highly irritating.
He stood abruptly. For the past days he had been thinking about this, and it was too much. Enough time wasted. Wen Kexing had always been one to solve his problems in a direct way. He strode over to the sitting figure, careful to keep his steps light as to not alert him. Still there was a slight shift in the man’s posture that told Wen Kexing he had been noticed.
Just as well.
“Have you any memory of your name?” he asked.
The man stood up and turned around, but this time he didn’t meet Wen Kexing’s eyes.
“Valley Master. I might have been called Zhou Xu.”
He talked. That already differentiated him from half of Ghost Valley’s populace. “Is there anything else you remember?” Wen Kexing didn’t bother with pleasantries. Down here, they were wasted.
Zhou Xu glanced up and a sharp jolt of lightning ran through Wen Kexing when their eyes met. The man looked plain, his hair in disarray and his face unshaven, but it was yet again those dark eyes that captured Wen Kexing. There was the same unflinching expression on Zhou Xu’s face that had been there on the day of his arrival, and his gaze was just as piercing. Wen Kexing finally realised what the man reminded him of. It was the vision he saw whenever he looked inside the mirror. The man was like Wen Kexing himself – he still retained his will.
“There is nothing. I tried to remember, but I can’t find anything.” He paused for a moment and his eyes darted to the side in a first hint of insecurity. “I…I don’t know why exactly I am here.”
“Which is probably for the best.” Wen Kexing pulled his fan from his sleeve and pointed down the stairs that led into the darkness. “Otherwise, you would have ended up further down below.”
“What is down there?”
“The depths. Nothing you should concern yourself with. There is very little in general here in the valley that you should concern yourself with. Take this friendly advice, and stay away from others.”
“Like the Valley Master?”
It was like a slap to the face. Not the fact that a new arrival dared to talk back, or the challenge that accompanied the words, but the change in expression. Zhou Xu quirked an eyebrow and the corner of his mouth twitched, almost as if to stifle a smirk. Wen Kexing had gotten so used to looking at faces and finding nothing but emptiness that even an expression as minute as this was startling. For a moment, he was at a loss for words. Meaningless banter was not something that existed down here.
“Especially the Valley Master. I heard he is a fearsome and crazy individual,” Wen Kexing said, too stiffly and too late, and he almost wished he had answered with nothing but haughty silence.
“I shall watch out for him, then,” Zhou Xu said and shook his sleeves over his hands before turning around and walking away from Wen Kexing, leaving him standing in that dark alley.
For the first time in decades, Wen Kexing didn’t feel like the Valley Master, feared by all for the cruelties he had committed.
He felt frighteningly human.
-
He felt bones fracturing and shattering under his fingers, and then a warm gush of blood against his palm as splintered bone pierced through skin. Wen Kexing let go of the arm he had just crushed and wiped his hand against the robes of the man kneeling before him. The man curled in on himself and clutched the destroyed limb to his chest, whimpering. Wen Kexing nudged him to the side with his foot and stepped past him towards the second one, who stared up at him with a frightened expression.
“It’s not like I don’t admire the honest effort,” Wen Kexing drawled and regarded his nails as he stood before the man. “At least there was a faint attempt at a plan, stupid as it might have been. But…” He looked up and started at the man coldly as he pulled his fan from his sleeve, “do you really think someone stupid could sit on the throne of Ghost Valley?”
The moment the man opened his mouth to answer, Wen Kexing slashed his fan across the throat and all that escaped the poor fool was a choked gurgle.
Wen Kexing turned towards the husks that stood to the side of the grand plaza, eyes cast down and expressions unreadable. Most of them barely showed any indication that they had just witnesses a murder.
“I would like to take this opportunity to remind everyone that, despite my endless patience, I do not take kindly to attempts at assassination, be they directed at my person or others. If you have a feud, you are free to openly fight it out. Kill each other for all I care. But I have no,” He whirled around and threw a dagger into the back of the man who was still clutching his arm, finally silencing that annoying whimpering, “tolerance for backstabbing.”
He looked around and was met with empty faces. Some glanced up and gave a short nod, others looked demurely to the ground.
One person met his eyes.
For a moment, Wen Kexing and Zhou Xu stared at each other. There was a complicated expression on Zhou Xu’s face, one that might have been easier to read had Wen Kexing not spent the largest part of his life in a place void of expressions.
“Clean that up,” he said and tore his eyes away from Zhou Xu. Two masked guards immediately dragged the bodies off to the depths, where they would be left for the broken souls. The onlookers took it as a cue to disperse, acting as if nothing had happened. It wasn’t an all too common occurrence that people were publicly executed, but it happened often enough for Ghost Valley’s residents to not be fazed by it.
Wen Kexing did not approach Zhou Xu afterwards. He made his way directly over to the palace – that his path took him past where Zhou Xu was leaned against a wall was merely coincidental. They glanced at each other and, as if it were a normal thing do to, Wen Kexing indicated for Zhou Xu to follow him. When the other fell into step, Wen Kexing realised that there had not been anyone next to him in a long time.
“How do you like your accommodation in the valley?” he asked casually.
“It is perfectly fine. It might help that I have no point of reference to compare it to.”
“Right. No memories, no standards.”
Zhou Xu huffed, and then asked, “Does this kind of thing happen often down here?”
“What, that the Valley Master has casual conversation with a resident?” Wen Kexing kept his eyes straight ahead, very well aware that Zhou Xu was looking at him. He spoke casually, but Wen Kexing was sure to find judgement in his eyes, were he to look at them.
“That people get killed in public.”
“Reasonably often.”
“Reasonably?”
Wen Kexing stopped and it took Zhou Xu two steps to realise it. He turned around and looked slightly confused. Again with the expressions, Wen Kexing thought.
“This is Ghost Valley. There is bound to be conflict. The Meng Po Soup might be efficient, but it’s not infallible. And if people retain their resentment, even if it’s just a fraction, then…” he made a swiping gesture with his bloody fan. “violence is likely to ensue.”
Zhou Xu hummed and fell silent. Until they reached the steps leading to the palace, he didn’t utter another word. Wen Kexing wondered what he was thinking. If he was thinking anything at all. He glanced at the other man out of the corner of his eyes. How exactly could it be that this person was still so human when everyone else had lost themselves in the darkness of the valley?
When Zhou Zishu suddenly stopped, Wen Kexing realised that they had reached the palace.
“Well. I hope you will manage to…keep your spirit up,” Wen Kexing said with a wry smirk and inclined his head. Zhou Zishu simply nodded. But before Wen Kexing could vanish into the palace, he suddenly called out,
“You said you have no tolerance for backstabbing. Then, what if they had attempted to fight you in honesty?”
Wen Kexing paused. These questions were almost stranger than Zhou Xu’s expressions. In honesty? Down here? He laughed, the sound echoing back at him out of the empty hall.
“Who knows? I might have let them live.”
-
“What have you found?” Wen Kexing glanced up from his book and at his spymaster. The young woman knelt in front of the throne and kept her head appropriately low. She was the only person Wen Kexing truly trusted down here.
“Wuchang Gui picked him up in a dungeon. Said he was starved and beaten. Didn’t say what kind of crimes he committed or what crimes were committed against him, but that he hated the world and everyone in it, so Wuchang Gui took him. You know how he is.”
Wen Kexing nodded. There were ten people, Ghosts, down here who could not be compared to the vacuous shells that wandered around. The resentment they had accumulated in their lifetime had been so strong that the Meng Po Soup had allowed them to keep seedling of it, nurture it, and go crazy because of it. Wen Kexing, naturally, belonged to them. And maybe Zhou Xu would make the eleventh addition.
“And now?”
“I have not found anything out of the ordinary. He walks around a lot. Explores the valley, attempts to talk to people. I heard him ask them questions, but he received no answers, of course.”
“I see.” That was not too surprising. Surely Zhou Xu would want to know where exactly he had ended up at. “Anything else?”
He saw Gu Xiang stiffen briefly before her body relaxed again.
“A-Xiang?”
“Yes, Master. He saw me.”
“What?”
Gu Xiang was highly capable – if she didn’t want to be seen, then no one would be able to see her. No one but Wen Kexing had as much as taken note of her existence.
“I trailed him and made sure to stay in the shadows, to keep myself hidden, I really did!” She looked up at that, as if she needed Wen Kexing to confirm that her effort had been enough. He simply nodded and gestured for her to continue. “I was inside of a building, observing from behind a window. I was in complete darkness. He couldn’t have seen me. And yet he turned around and looked in my exact direction.”
Wen Kexing frowned. “Are you sure he saw you?”
“Yes. Definitely. I don’t think he knows that I know, but I’m certain.”
Wen Kexing nodded slowly. If that was the case…
“Master…I don’t trust him.”
“What is there not to trust? He drank the Meng Po Soup. He doesn’t remember anything.”
Gu Xiang didn’t look convinced, but didn’t argue, either. Wen Kexing reclined in his seat, indicating that the conversation was over. But his mind kept trying to deconstruct the strange case of Zhou Xu.
-
Sun might not reach the depths of the valley, but rain certainly did. Water ran down the jagged rock and pooled on the uneven ground, creating large puddles that were too large to avoid. The residents of Ghost Valley did not bother – they barely took note of the heavy drops that landed on their heads. Wen Kexing did bother, which was why he usually kept inside the palace whenever the weather outside turned too harsh. But today he found himself walking through the narrow alleyways plunged into darkness by the rain that had extinguished the torches. The Valley was rendered even drearier by the cold light that reflected off the small lakes that had formed on the ground.
Wen Kexing’s umbrella didn’t prevent the hems of his robes from getting soaked and his mood worsened with each step he took. He tried to justify his actions to himself – that he was only here because Zhou Xu was suspicious – but it sounded pathetic even to himself.
The truth was that Wen Kexing had developed an obsession.
Each time he closed his eyes, he saw one of Zhou Xu’s many expressions, heard his voice inflected by emotion, and felt the warmth that somehow still clung to the other’s body despite his state. Wen Kexing had never seen anyone this alive down here in the valley. It should be impossible, and it made Zhou Xu all the more untrustworthy. But Wen Kexing just couldn’t stay away. He chased the light that seemed to accompany Zhou Xu wherever he went, desperate to catch it, to feel it.
He didn’t bother knocking when he reached his destination. There was a faint flickering light that shone through the cracks in the wood and Wen Kexing simply pushed the door open to let himself in. Zhou Xu was sitting at his table, in his hand a dull knife with which he carved patterns into the half-rotten surface. He looked up when he heard Wen Kexing enter.
“Valley Master. Had I known to expect a visitor, I would have prepared something.” No matter what Zhou Xu said, there was always a hint of sarcasm that accompanied the words, as if the Meng Po Soup hadn’t been able to rob him of that particular characteristic.
“And what would you have prepared? Water with a bit of dirt added for flavour?” Ever since he spent more time around Zhou Xu, Wen Kexing had found himself regaining his ability to hold a conversation. It was dangerous, the way Zhou Xu brought out the part of Wen Kexing he had done his best to smother over the past years, and yet Wen Kexing didn’t stay away. His obsessions had always been self-destructive.
“You have been here for about two months now,” he said and took a seat opposite of Zhou Xu.
“Have I? I wouldn’t have guessed. Time flows even more strangely down here.”
“Even more strangely than where?”
Zhou Xu only looked at him, his eyes giving nothing away.
“You remember, don’t you?” Wen Kexing said and leaned back. He had long since suspected that the Meng Po Soup had worked on Zhou Xu in the same way it had worked on Wen Kexing. Which was to say, not at all.
“I do. It’s not clear, but there are images.”
“You do realise you just turned yourself into a liability?” Wen Kexing asked and casually traced the lines that were engraved in the tabletop.
“Oh? Is the Valley Master going to get rid of the threat to his throne?” Zhou Xu didn’t seem scared in the slightest.
“I should. In fact, I have been advised to do so.”
“Then I can do nothing but await my fate.”
Wen Kexing’s nails dug into the wood when he curled his hand into a fist. Zhou Xu looked at him calmly. It was infuriating and enticing at the same time. He wanted to rip out Zhou Xu’s throat and he wanted to protect him from the dangers of the valley.
“Who were you?” he asked eventually, keeping his voice level.
“No one noteworthy. A common bandit in the eyes of others.”
“And in your own eyes?”
“Someone who does what’s necessary to survive.”
Wen Kexing searched his face for deception, but it was as if Zhou Xu was wearing a mask.
“And who did the Valley Master use to be?”
“No one in particular. A traveller. A guest. Wen. Wen Kexing.”
The name tasted strange on his tongue. He hadn’t given voice to it in a long time, and it almost felt wrong, like he wasn’t talking about himself but a stranger who he had once seen in passing. It was equal amounts thrilling and frightening to get to know that stranger again.
-
“Master.” Gu Xiang appeared before him, her figure clad in shadow and silence so that Wen Kexing had almost not noticed her entrance.
“What is it?”
“Zhou Xu has entered the depths.”
Wen Kexing whirled around to her. “What?”
“I saw him talk to Kaixin Gui and then went down below.”
“Why didn’t you stop him?” Wen Kexing hissed and brushed past her, knowing full well that his instructions to her had been to observe and to never interfere.
“I’m sorry, Master. I made a mistake.”
Wen Kexing left her kneeling in the hall and rushed towards the stairs that led into the depth. With each step he took the darkness pressed in on him, stifling the air in his lungs. It was almost like a viscous liquid that forced its way into his body. Resentment had taken on physical form down here, a constant presence in the air that weighed heavily onto everyone who dared to enter. All sounds were muffled, and the sole source of light came from a few glowing rocks that coloured everything in a sickly green.
Wen Kexing strained his ears, listening to anything out of the ordinary. There were grunts and moans in the distance as the residents of the depth shuffled through their realm. Other than that, it was pure silence. He drew his fan and advanced.
A loud shriek echoed through the space, almost making Wen Kexing flinch. He rushed in the direction of the noise, trying to see past the thick darkness that surrounded him. The groans of the depth’s inhabitants turned more agitated all around, and sound of hundreds of dragging feet turned into ambience. There was a sudden bright flash to his right, followed by the clank of metal against something hard. Wen Kexing reflexively threw his fan in the direction and heard a slashing sound, followed by what was unmistakably the splash of blood. He caught his fan out of the air and closed in on the lone figure that was fighting about twenty soulless husks.
“Zhou Xu!” he called out, making the figure hesitate for a heartbeat. It was enough for his enemies to pounce on him, throwing him to the ground and burying him underneath their flailing bodies. Wen Kexing wasted no time. He threw five daggers in rapid succession, stopping five of the creatures from moving, and the rushed forward to kick them off Zhou Xu. Fighting down here was utterly pointless; for no matter how many you killed, there were always more to replace them. Wen Kexing grabbed Zhou Xu’s arm and pulled him to his feet and then onto his back. Without another glance at the fumbling creatures, he all but flew back to the stairs and out of the oppressing darkness. Judging from the slack weight on his back, Zhou Xu was unconscious. Wen Kexing briefly considered simply taking him back to his own hut, but for some reason his steps turned instead towards the palace. The people they passed on the way didn’t even spare them a sliver of attention, their eyes fixed on the empty air before them.
When Wen Kexing entered the palace, Gu Xiang was still kneeling in the hall.
“Go back,” He commanded as he walked past her. “You can rest.”
Gu Xiang’s eyes widened when she saw who her master carried on his back.
“Master, I don’t think–“
“Go. Back.”
Gu Xiang bowed and went backwards out of the palace. Wen Kexing felt a sting of something that resembled guilt, but he ignored it and turned towards his personal chambers. Here, he laid Zhou Xu down onto his bed and let his eyes roam the other’s body. There were multiple tears in his ragged robes, exposing torn skin underneath. The largest gash was on his shoulder, where the skin way flayed and raw.
Something flashed before Wen Kexing’s eyes, memories long suppressed, of a bright day in an entirely different valley, surrounded by people in white robes who grew herbs and brewed medicine. He shook his head to get rid of the unwanted images and instead filled up a basin with water and took a cloth to clean the wounds. Zhou Xu was mostly unresponsive, but a low groan escaped him when Wen Kexing touched the wound. As good as Wen Kexing was at inflicting pain, as bad was he at soothing it. He could only ignore the noises Zhou Xu made and careful dab at the wound to clean it. Sweat started to build on Zhou Xu’s brow and his hands fisted into the bedding as he squirmed under Wen Kexing’s touch.
“It’s your own fault,” Wen Kexing muttered while he did his best to stitch the wound closed. “Why would you go down there?”
When it was time to apply bandages, they were more crooked than anything, but at least they protected the tear from whatever filth was lingering in Ghost Valley’s air.
Wen Kexing straightened himself and looked down at the man in his bed who was still panting from agony.
“Rest. And don’t cause more trouble for me,” Wen Kexing said and made to go, but a hand curled into his robes, holding on tightly and preventing him from leaving. When he turned, he found Zhou Xu’s eyes open and staring at him with a fevered look.
“Thank – you,” he gasped out. “I – did – not –“
“Rest.” Wen Kexing said again and loosened the fingers around his robes. Zhou Xu nodded and closed his eyes, and Wen Kexing left the room with the strange feeling of wanting to stay.
-
Each time Wen Kexing entered the chambers, Zhou Xu had recovered a little more. He seemed to possess an impressive amount of internal strength that was quick to replenish his energy. On the third day, he sat up in bed when Wen Kexing arrived.
“Valley Master,” he said and inclined his head. “I need to apologise.”
Wen Kexing sat down on the bed next to him and pulled the robe from his shoulders to expose the clumsily wrapped dressings.
“I should not have ignored your warning.”
Wen Kexing only hummed and carefully loosened the bandages. The wound looked a lot better already. It wasn’t infected and the stitching had managed to keep it closed.
“Valley Master.”
Wen Kexing looked at him. “You still call me that? Aren’t we past the point of formalities?”
“I wanted to apolo-“
“No need. I saved you simply because–“ he paused. He realised that, had it been any other person, he would not have bothered with following them, let alone putting himself in danger to save them. What was different about Zhou Xu? As if you didn’t know, a voice inside his head said. “Because you’re interesting. Life would be so boring, were you not here.”
He remembered the time before Zhou Xu arrived, the endless chain of monotone, grey days that bled into each other until they were indistinguishable, just one more stone on the road to revenge. Wen Kexing hadn’t realised he had been drowning until Zhou Xu had offered him a hand to pull him back above the surface. He swallowed and averted his eyes from Zhou Xu’s deep gaze (just another ocean to drown in) to redress the wound.
A hand above his own stopped him. Wen Kexing slowly looked back up, and the breath caught in his throat.
“Then I’m glad if I can make your life a little more interesting, Wen Kexing.”
The smile on Zhou Xu’s lips was the first Wen Kexing had seen in decades. Small, and warm, and so beautiful that it bordered on painful. He needed to feel in on his skin, chase its taste with his tongue, engrave it into memory.
And so he did.
He bent down and stole that smile from Zhou Xu’s lips with his own, claiming it for himself. Zhou Xu made a surprised noise but before soon he responded, his fingers curling around Wen Kexing’s as he offered up his mouth for the other to take. Wen Kexing felt the restraint fall away from him like shackles and he leaned forwards, pushing Zhou Xu down onto the bed without breaking contact once. It was only when Zhou Xu gasped that he pushed himself back up and looked warily at the other man’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t–“
“Don’t stop,” Zhou Xu said and pulled him back down, directing Wen Kexing’s mouth to his throat and tilting his head to give him better access. “Don’t stop, Wen Kexing.”
Wen Kexing, who hadn’t followed anyone’s command ever since he had become the Valley Master, obeyed at once and dragged a trail of kisses down Zhou Xu’s throat and to his collarbone, where he sucked a mark into the pale skin, making red blooming across it. He didn’t stop to admire his work and instead continued to kiss his way down Zhou Xu’s body, pulling the robes open as he went.
“Are you sure?” he murmured against the skin and dipped one of his fingers into his waistband. The low, hummed approval was all he needed to give into the desires he now realised had been there since the first time he had met Zhou Xu’s eyes.
Later, when they lay next to each other with Zhou Xu’s head pillowed on Wen Kexing’s chest and his finger tracing idle patterns on it, Wen Kexing felt that maybe there was a point to this wretched existence of his after all.
-
One night together turned into two, turned into three, turned into many. Zhou Xu recuperated quicky, but even when his injuries were healed he still remained in the palace. Not much changed of their daily life – Wen Kexing still had his duties as Valley Master to fulfil, he still had a revenge to plan towards, and Zhou Xu more often than not left the palace in order to stroll through the valley. But at night they came back together, holding each other and breathing each other in, and Wen Kexing wondered if he grounded Zhou Xu as much as Zhou Xu grounded him.
Then, something changed.
One night, a few days after the bandages had become obsolete, Wen Kexing awoke to a shuffling next to him. He had always been a light sleeper, a necessary trait if one wanted to survive down in the valley. A strange feeling took a hold of him, as if the pressure in the room had suddenly dropped. He recognised it as the faint sensation of a looming threat, the same thing he felt moments before someone attacked him. But there was still the familiar, soothing presence of Zhou Xu next to him, and he let the other’s steady breathing keep him calm. His eyes shut and his body still, Wen Kexing listened intently. He felt the bed below him dip, as if someone was kneeling next to him and then there was a faint shing, like the sound of metal being unsheathed –
Wen Kexing showed no reaction. He felt how Zhou Xu shifted. For several long, long moments, nothing happened. Then there was a long exhale and something was dropped onto the pillow next to Wen Kexing’s head. A few moments later, the bed dipped again when Zhou Xu got out of it. The sound of footsteps. A door opened and closed. Silence.
Wen Kexing opened his eyes. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach. Maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could convince himself that this had been a dream.
-
Zhou Xu returned the next night like he had done so many times before, like nothing had happened. A weight lifted off of Wen Kexing’s shoulders when he saw the other’s smile, the one that belonged to Wen Kexing and Wen Kexing alone. He had almost expected Zhou Xu to not return. But maybe it had been a dream after all. Wen Kexing almost believed it.
“Did anything happen today, A-Xu?” he asked and pressed a kiss to the other’s lips, just to make sure he was actually there.
“Nothing that hasn’t happened on all other days,” Zhou Xu said and chased after Wen Kexing’s lips to deepen the kiss. Wen Kexing smiled and found the doubts chased from his mind just like that. He wrapped his arms around Zhou Xu and pulled him closer, slowly nudging him over to the bed.
-
He awoke to shuffling next to him. The air in the room was heavy, bordering on stifling, and Wen Kexing had to focus all his energy on keeping his breathing steady. The mattress dipped as Zhou Xu knelt next to him. A shing sounded when a weapon was unsheathed. Wen Kexing felt the air at his throat shift. Then, nothing. He heard Zhou Xu’s breath, slightly more elaborate than usual. Wen Kexing’s eyelids itched with the need to open, to see what was happening, what exactly it was Zhou Xu was doing. Then the other let out a shuddering breath and the bedding shifted when he left the bed.
Wen Kexing opened his eyes and turned his head just in time to see the door close behind Zhou Xu. He lay awake for the rest of the night, feeling the shadow of a blade against his throat.
-
Zhou Xu returned that night, a smile on his face as he approached Wen Kexing and drew him into an embrace. Wen Kexing returned it and kissed Zhou Xu’s check, then his jaw, and then his neck, at the same spot where he had felt the ghost of a blade the night before. When Zhou Xu tilted his head Wen Kexing bit down, then soothed the sting with gentle strokes of his tongue. Zhou let out a soft moan and dug his fingers into Wen Kexing’s hip, guiding him over to the bed.
“A-Xu,” Wen Kexing murmured, “Why are you robbing me of the delight of waking up next to you lately?”
Zhou Xu’s finger twitched minutely, but it was barely noticeable. He hummed and trailed his hands up Wen Kexing’s back and into his hair, pulling his head up and claiming Wen Kexing’s mouth in a searing kiss.
In the end, the question remained unanswered, and almost got lost in pleasure.
-
He awoke to shuffling next to him. This time, it wasn’t hard to keep his eyes closed. He listened closely to the shift in Zhou Xu’s breathing, the way it hitched slightly when the sound of an unsheathing blade echoed through the room. Wen Kexing could almost see him kneel next to him, could almost feel Zhou Xu’s gaze like a heavy weight on him. Then there was a sudden rush of air and Wen Kexing felt something cold and sharp against his throat, just short of breaking skin. He remained utterly still.
The choked sob that followed almost made Wen Kexing open his eyes, but in the next moment the blade vanished from his throat and the bed shifted when Zhou Xu got up and left the room.
Wen Kexing stared into the darkness.
He felt empty.
-
The next night, when Zhou Xu started undressing him, Wen Kexing stopped his hands, lifted them up, and kissed both palms.
“A-Xu. You seem a bit distracted today. Are you alright?”
He saw how Zhou Xu swallowed heavily. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Are you already growing tired of this place?” Wen Kexing took Zhou Xu’s face in his hands and dropped a feather-light kiss on his lips. “I could get you out of here, you know? Back to the mortal realm. It won’t be easy, but I can do it.”
Zhou Xu’s eyes widened, like the offer of freedom shocked him. His hands landed on Wen Kexing’s chest, pushing him back. “Do you want me to leave?”
“I just don’t want you to torture yourself down here.”
Zhou Xu’s hands curled into fists, tightly gripping Wen Kexing’s robes, and he pulled him forward again, capturing his mouth in a kiss that was more teeth than anything.
“How about you ask me what I want?”
“What do you want, A-Xu?”
“You.”
Wen Kexing looked at him and smiled. “You can have my life, if you really want it.”
-
He awoke to shuffling next to him. The shing of a blade being unsheathed. A cold sensation on his skin.
Wen Kexing opened his eyes. Zhou Xu wasn’t looking at him. His head hung low as he knelt next to Wen Kexing and pressed a blade to his throat. Wen Kexing reached up and gently took Zhou Xu’s wrists, pressing the dagger against his skin where the sharp edge immediately drew blood. Zhou Xu’s head snapped up and he stared at Wen Kexing out of glistening eyes. His cheeks were stained with tears.
“I just don’t want you to torture yourself down here,” Wen Kexing said softly. “If you have to kill me, do it. I’ve been here for so long. I barely remember the reason I still keep on going.”
Zhou Xu opened his mouth, but no sound escaped. Wen Kexing felt his fingers around the handle of the knife tighten, felt the blade press into his skin and –
With a hoarse shout, Zhou Xu hurled the dagger across the room and lunged forward, pressing his mouth to Wen Kexing’s throat and soothing the wound with gentle lips. Wen Kexing stroked Zhou Xu’s hair and murmured soothing nonsense.
He had known that Zhou Xu wouldn’t do it. From the moment he opened his eyes, he had known that it was too late for Zhou Xu. Just as it was too late for Wen Kexing. They were too deeply entangled with each other now.
“I’ve been wondering how you could still be so…you,” Wen Kexing said, continuing to caress Zhou Xu’s hair while the other’s face remained buried in the crook of Wen Kexing’s neck. “You never drank the Meng Po Soup, right?”
Zhou Xu shook his head.
“And from the very beginning you were here to kill the Valley Master.”
A nod. Then Zhou Xu slowly pulled back and looked Wen Kexing in the eyes. There were no tears on his face anymore, only the same empty expression Wen Kexing was so used to.
“My name is Zhou Zishu, leader of Tian Chuang. I serve Prince Jin and was sent here to assassinate the Master of Ghost Valley.”
“And do you intend to finish the task?”
Zhou Xu, Zhou Zishu, looked at Wen Kexing for a long moment. Then he shook his head. “I will report back that I was unable to get close to the Valley Master.”
“Won’t you get punished?”
“The punishment will be mine to bear. I deserve no less for my foolishness.”
“The foolishness of making your own decision?”
“Exactly.”
Wen Kexing sat up at the same time as he pulled Zhou Zishu forward, and he rested their forehead against each other.
“A-Xu, you’re no puppet.”
Zhou Zishu pulled back and slid off the bed. “That is not for me to decide.”
“A-Xu…the world has wronged you.”
Wen Kexing reached for the small table next to him where he always kept the vial of Meng Po Soup. In case it got all too much. In case forgetting was the only thing that would make his existence bearable. He held it out to Zhou Zishu.
“You’ve already lost yourself to them. You could…” As Wen Kexing spoke, he realised what he was so selfishly offering. He thought back to the mindless husks that wandered the streets of the valley.
Zhou Zishu paused. He glanced back.
“We both still have a role to play. If fate allows it, I’m sure we will meet again.”
Wen Kexing nodded.
“I’m sure we will.”
And then, Zhou Zishu left. The vial slipped out of Wen Kexing’s fingers and shattered against the stone ground, where it spilled its teal content. Wen Kexing had no need for it now. Forgetting was not an option any longer.
-
The plan had been perfect. Foolproof. Prince Jin had made sure of that. Zhou Zishu, ruthless and loyal, was to invade Ghost Valley and pretend to be one of its broken residents. The prince had made a deal with a ghost who would get Zhou Zishu into the valley without having to drink the Meng Po Soup. From there on, the method of how to kill the Valley Master was Zhou Zishu’s to choose. He had made no plans in advance – they would form as soon as he knew who he was up against. It was a stroke of luck, then, that the Valley Master had been intrigued by him. Zhou Zishu mercilessly made use of that interest, constantly keeping the man just as far away as to still capture his attention. When he realised that the master’s little servant girl had been following him, he made use of that, too. His venture into the depths of the valley was a gamble. He gambled that the girl would tell her master, and he gambled that the master would come to save him. It had paid off. Valley Master Wen Kexing saved him and brought him to his palace, unbeknown that he had allowed death into his chambers.
But it was then that things started to go wrong.
And at fault were, as always when something went wrong, feelings. He had known that he was doomed the first time Wen Kexing had kissed him and all thoughts of the plan had left Zhou Zishu’s mind. From there on, he could only helplessly watch as his control slowly slipped away from him. And when he was finally presented with the perfect opportunity to kill Wen Kexing, he hadn’t been able to do it. Nor had he next time, or the one after that. And now he left the valley to report his grand failure, and the only thing he felt at it was apathy. Apathy, and a hint of pleasant anticipation at the prospect of seeing Wen Kexing again.
5 years later
“Look at that beggar, Master!” Gu Xiang called out and pointed to the man who was lying comfortably in the sun. Wen Kexing spared a glance in the direction.
A smile spread across his face.
“That is not a beggar,” he said.
“How do you know?”
“He is simply enjoying the sun.” Wen Kexing stood up and flicked open his fan as he made his way down the stairs of the inn, a confused Gu Xiang following behind. He emerged on the busy street below and for a brief moment, the bright sun blinded him.
“Those who have lived in the shadow for too long can’t help but chase the light.”