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The phoenix flew to every corner of the world, dispersing the dark clouds, ridding this small world of the evils plaguing it. Cheers erupted wherever he went. He soared through the clouds, his heart dancing at his regained freedom, at the scenes of joy and relief shared through every living being he gazed upon. The sight of the Inextinguishable Peak entered his vision. Then, his heart was dancing for another reason.
He descended, transforming back into Yue Wuhuan with a flourish just before he landed. His robes fluttered in the slight wind. He gazed at the broken body leaning against a cracked tree trunk and something fierce ached in his chest. Step by step, he crossed the distance separating them, silently vowing to stay by Song Qingshi’s side forever, never to be separated.
Song Qingshi slowly raised his head to meet Yue Wuhuan’s eyes. His eyes crinkled in happiness even as he bled out on the forest floor. “Welcome back.”
Yue Wuhuan dropped to his knees, and Song Qingshi cried out in surprise. “Wuhuan,” he said weakly. “Wuhuan, the mud...y-your robes...”
“That doesn’t matter,” Yue Wuhuan said, loosely wrapping his arms around Song Qingshi’s fragile body and pressing his face against the crook of his neck, inhaling the sweet scent that never disappeared no matter what happened. “Qingshi, it doesn’t matter.”
Yue Wuhuan pulled away slightly and moved to cup Song Qingshi’s cheeks, gently pressing their foreheads together. “Thank you,” Yue Wuhuan said. “For never giving up.”
“Wuhuan,” Song Qingshi said, his eyes fluttering shut, his body slumping against Yue Wuhuan’s. “Wuhuan, I’m...very happy…”
Yue Wuhuan caught his unconscious body before he could fall to the floor, and gathered the merits from the World Tree, slowly repairing his lover’s broken body, breathing new life into him. Yue Wuhuan’s eyes gazed at the sleeping face, illuminated gently by the warm light of the merits entering his body. His heart was filled with fondness.
“Song Qingshi,” Yue Wuhuan murmured. “Song Qingshi, don’t you know how possessive phoenixes are? I’m never letting you go.”
Yue Wuhuan had collected hundreds of thousands of stones throughout his entire life, and nothing else would ever compare to the one he held in his arms. He hasn’t lost a single treasure before, and he wasn’t going to start now.
Song Qingshi’s body turned into thousands of light fragments and Yue Wuhuan started his chase, content in the knowledge that his little stone would once again return to sit in the palm of his hand.
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Yue Wuhuan opened his eyes to a familiar room. His brain was muddled for a few moments, before realization hit him and he shot out of his bed. “Qingshi!”
He stumbled through his bedroom doors and made his way to the courtyard, wanting to meet Song Qingshi before anyone heard of his awakening. But it was too late. The messengers had been sent out the moment he stirred from his bed, and he was greeted by throngs of people standing a respectful distance from his temple grounds.
There was a brief moment of silence as he appeared, every single person in the growing crowd holding their breath as they looked at his motionless form. It was unknown who first called his name, but it was like the dam had broken and a cacophony of noise followed.
“Wuhuan Shenjun!”
“The Phoenix is awake!”
“We are saved!”
Loud cheers erupted from the crowd, all celebrating his return, but it was like he was underwater, each noise muffled and delayed. His eyes scanned the crowd frantically, looking for any trace of that person. His search was interrupted by the arrival of the Celestial Emperor.
“Wuhuan,” the Emperor said, his eyes twinkling. “Welcome back.”
Yue Wuhuan paused at the words, desperately wishing to hear them again from someone else. “Thank you,” he said, and was about to ask where Song Qingshi was when the Emperor quickly launched into an abbreviated explanation of what happened and told him that he needed to visit each small world to restore the order the demons had destroyed.
Yue Wuhuan recalled the number of fruits hanging from the World Tree and felt a slight sense of despair. Normally, a task like this would barely cause him to bat an eyelash, but there was someone very important that was waiting for him. Someone who didn’t like being alone.
Yue Wuhuan steeled his resolve and aimed to complete this task as quickly as possible, his heart aching at the thought of Song Qingshi staring at the clouds by himself. He spread his wings to the excited chattering of the crowd and sped off before the Emperor had even finished speaking, regretting very much the fact he hadn't even seen a glimpse of Song Qingshi yet.
“Qingshi,” Yue Wuhuan whispered as he shot through the sky. “Wait for me. Just a little longer, please wait.”
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Yue Wuhuan finished his mission, all the small worlds restored to their former glory. The World Tree once again flourished under his guardianship, but he could care less about that. Flying high, he bypassed the Phoenix Temple and headed to the small courtyard in the clouds.
Now, standing on a familiar doorstep—one that he never approached even in the thousands of times he crossed over this house—a trace of nervousness threaded its way through his heart.
Song Qingshi had learned human emotions for him. Song Qingshi bore the pain of one thousand three hundred and fifty failures to bring him back. Song Qingshi had given him everything, and Yue Wuhuan had no idea how to repay him.
With the sun’s rays warming his back and giving him courage, he raised his hand to knock on that wooden door. Yue Wuhuan stood there for what felt like days before the knob turned and the door creaked open, a familiar face peeking through.
It was obvious to Yue Wuhuan that Song Qingshi had been crying, his eyes and nose red and puffy. There were still drops of water clinging to his long lashes.
The thread of nervousness in his heart was quickly replaced with a sharp pain. He hadn’t meant to be gone for this long. He had broken his promise right after making it.
“W-Wuhuan?”
Yue Wuhuan quickly pushed away the negative emotions brewing in his mind, and smiled; not like it was difficult, simply gazing at Song Qingshi could bring him happiness. “I’m tired from flying in the sky. So, may I stop in your house?”
Song Qingshi nodded, like a chicken pecking at some seeds, and last dregs of weariness in Yue Wuhuan’s soul dissipated. He stepped into the house, and breathed in the familiar scent he had come to love. Shelves lined every wall, filled to bursting with books. Yue Wuhuan didn’t have to look very closely to know that they had all been meticulously arranged and organized. This was Song Qingshi’s home, and he could only hope that he would be welcomed here.
Watching Song Qingshi returned from the kitchen holding a tray of Yue Wuhuan’s favourite snacks. His heart swelled at the care Song Qingshi never failed to give him. Yue Wuhuan recited the words he practiced in his heart. “I want to give myself to you, may I?”
Song Qingshi didn’t react for a moment, just staring at him with wide eyes, before quickly and enthusiastically collecting this big gift and said that Yue Wuhuan was the most beautiful gift he had ever seen in his life. Yue Wuhuan laughed as his foolish little lover boasted on and on about how he was going to spoil him.
Taking advantage of the opening Song Qingshi gave him, Yue Wuhuan teased: “How are you going to spoil me?”
He grinned when he saw the familiar look of determination in Song Qingshi’s eyes, at the way he straightened his body. Yue Wuhuan’s grin only widened at the sight of the familiar sheet of paper, wrinkled from how many times it has been used.
Needless to say, the phoenix was very happy that night.
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They only stopped once the sun started peeking through the horizon again. Yue Wuhuan held Song Qingshi in his arms and felt more like a spoiled cat that got the cream rather than a dignified phoenix at that moment. And it seems like he wasn’t the only one who was satisfied with their activities because Song Qingshi was chattier than usual, still loose and relaxed from the onslaught of pleasure given to him.
Yue Wuhuan indirectly asked why Song Qingshi had been crying earlier, slipping the question in so smoothly that Song Qingshi didn’t notice.
Song Qingshi sighed contentedly, playing with the ends of Yue Wuhuan’s hair. “When you came knocking on my door, I was very surprised, Wuhuan. I really didn’t expect…”
Yue Wuhuan, very carefully, kept his voice neutral. He did not like the direction this conversation was taking. “Expect what?” he said lightly, as if this was something that he barely paid any mind to.
And Song Qingshi, as always, walked right into his trap. “Well, I really didn’t expect you to come back.”
Yue Wuhuan must have made an ugly expression because at that moment, Song Qingshi’s eyes widened and he tried to scoot away. Yue Wuhuan’s arms clamped tightly around him, preventing his escape. “W-Wuhuan. That’s not, I mean,” Song Qingshi stuttered, looking pleadingly at him, trying to get him to diffuse the situation.
He was on his own on this one. Yue Wuhuan wasn’t going to help him out the hole he dug for himself. Song Qingshi seemed to realize this too, because he relaxed his full weight on Yue Wuhuan’s chest, no longer trying to escape. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but nothing came out.
Yue Wuhuan sighed slightly, deciding to grant him mercy this one time. “It’s fine, Qingshi,” he said, rubbing small circles into Song Qingshi’s back until he relaxed. “Take your time. I’m right here.”
That seemed to be the push Song Qingshi needed because he quietly started speaking after a few more moments. “I really didn’t mean anything bad by it,” Song Qingshi mumbled. “Really, I didn’t. But it’s just...I wouldn’t have blamed you—if you…”
Yue Wuhuan’s hand stilled. “You wouldn’t have blamed me if I what?”
“...If you decided to s-seal your memories like An Long did.”
“Song. Qing. Shi.” Yue Wuhuan gritted out, more than a little offended at the implication in those words. “Are you saying that I’m the type of person who has no sense of propriety? Someone who would just shamelessly take favours without returning them!?”
“No, wait, Wuhuan, that’s not, not what I meant!”
“No? Then, what did you mean?”
Song Qingshi mumbled, “Um, I just think that you should always be free and happy to fly in the clouds. You’ve...really, you’ve suffered a lot in that world, and I didn’t think it would be such a bad thing if you decided you wanted nothing to do with the past.”
At Yue Wuhuan’s neutral expression, Song Qingshi’s nervousness visibly got the best of him and words tumbled out his mouth, “Wuhuan, it’s okay if you did, really! I didn’t—didn’t expect anything back. It was enough for me that you woke up and left that hell…”
Yue Wuhuan was silent for a moment longer before he sighed, placing a hand on the back of Song Qingshi’s neck. He turned his head to the side and buried his nose into the dark strands. “Qingshi,” he said. “Qingshi, ah, Qingshi. You’re so foolish. I made a promise, didn’t I? I told you that I would always watch the clouds with you. You won’t ever have to watch other people have fun with their friends while you sit in a corner by yourself. I’m here, and I’m not leaving.”
There was a quiet sniffle, and a drop fell onto Yue Wuhuan’s neck. Then another. Then another.
“S-sorry,” Song Qingshi said, trying to pull away once again. “I—”
“Qingshi, stop. You don’t ever have to pretend in front of me. Don’t you remember? You’re the one who taught me that always suppressing your emotions was bad for the body. Really...What kind of doctor are you if you can’t even take your own advice?”
Song Qingshi’s mind often went in very strange places, so Yue Wuhuan kept his voice purposefully light to avoid any misunderstandings. It seemed to work, judging by the quiet huff of breath against his neck.
“Don’t tease me,” Song Qingshi mumbled, finally raising his head to look at him. Yue Wuhuan wiped the last tears away from his lashes. “Thank you, Wuhuan.”
“No,” Yue Wuhuan said, shaking his head gently. “Thank you , Qingshi.”
They lay there for some time, taking their comfort in each others’ arms. Warm sunlight streamed through the windows.
Yue Wuhuan took a quick glance at Song Qingshi and, seeing that he was relaxed and unburdened, let a predatory smile spread across his face. “Hey, Qingshi?”
A sleepy hum was his reply.
“You said earlier that I was teasing you. Do you remember that?”
Song Qingshi finally opened his eyes and looked at him in confusion. “Yes?”
“That wasn’t teasing,” Yue Wuhuan said, rolling over onto all fours over Song Qingshi, trapping him in the cage of his arms and legs. “Here," he smiled gently as his hands wandered. "Let me show you what real teasing is.”
Song Qingshi’s eyes widened, but it was too late. He was caught in the phoenix’s trap. “Yue Wuhuan!”
Yue Wuhuan laughed. “Song Qingshi!”
The phoenix finally had the stone he had been waiting very patiently for in his hands. Now, it was time to collect the interest that had accrued over hundreds of millions of years.
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