Chapter Text
Going down from the mountain had been the first time Zhou Zishu had ever felt like he was coming home.
They had had to wait until summer had rolled around to be able to get out of the armory, the avalanche had done more than its fair share to make certain no one would be coming in or out of those doors for months to come. Before Wen Kexing had woken up, Zhou Zishu had spent most of his time going through the written works left behind. He may have only been half-reading them, the other half of his mind too preoccupied with worry and anger at his shidi to be able to focus on the words, but time had passed both far too slowly and much too quickly.
The day Wen Kexing, his stupid, reckless, selfish soulmate had awoken was full of many angry words, tears, and whispered apologies. Zhou Zishu had been given much time to think about everything those weeks he had spent waiting. In the end, it had been impossible from the start for him to have remained truly angry for long.
When the snow had finally melted and the doors could be opened once more, it was an entirely new life that awaited the pair of them on the other side. They had each expressed their trepidation to the other at the idea of taking a step out those doors while they had been waiting, the freedom that might be found outside something entirely new and frightening in its own way.
For those who had been shackled all their lives like caged beasts, the prospect of an open field, the ability to walk upon their own two feet without any chains attached--it was daunting.
Once those doors had opened and the brightness of the afternoon sun had cut through the cold isolation of the armory, the familiar faces coming to greet them had turned any prior anxiety into exhilaration.
Gripping Wen Kexing’s less steady hand in his own, Zhou Zishu had pulled the two of them forward.
Zhang Chengling had been waiting for them. Jing Beiyuan and Wu Xi stood beside the boy, having watched over him while Shen Shen and the others had to focus on pulling the chaos left behind in the jianghu back into something resembling order.
Before the group of them had even taken their first steps down the mountain, Wu Xi had made certain to quickly check both of the newly-dubbed immortals’ physical condition. He was more than familiar enough with Zhou Zishu to know it was best to check immediately without asking, lest the man hide yet another concerning physical condition.
Immortality had come with a less steep price than any may have expected. Ye Baiyi’s energy combined with their own two was more than enough to sustain the pair of them for countless years to come. While they had to stay on the mountain, it wasn’t impossible to take short trips down to the “mortal” realm now and again so long as they took care.
The only real stipulation they had to be mindful of was making sure to only consume cold things. Staying cool was also better than getting too overheated, though their new home made that less of a worry and more of a guarantee. All things considered, they would have to spend the majority of their time left among the icy peaks of their mountain, consuming various flavors of baobing for every meal.
Once satisfied with their clean bill of health, the five of them had returned to Four Seasons Manor.
Zhou Zishu had never expected for their sect, his home, to have been rebuilt so quickly. The credit lay in both Jing Beiyuan’s hefty purse and the enthusiasm of the new disciples. Zhang Chengling had remembered most of what the buildings had looked like after staying there for so long over the New Year, it had been a simple thing to fix everything back up to the way it had been before Prince Jin had the place burned to the ground.
It had been difficult, however, to take that first step forward, standing at the gates of the sect. A part of Zhou Zishu felt as though he didn’t deserve it, that he had destroyed the old Four Seasons Manor and should fade away along with the other eighty-one long-gone disciples he had betrayed.
Wen Kexing had been the one to pull him forward then, grasping the Manor Lord’s less steady hand in his hold.
Nineteen fresh young faces had come to greet them, each just as excited and honored as they had been the day Zhou Zishu had been saved from the palace. Looking at their eager smiles, no hint of anger or blame as far as the eye could see, he couldn’t help but to send an apology to his own shifu and Jiuxiao.
The most unworthy disciple would have no choice but to teach the new generation the ways of the Four Seasons Manor. It was his duty as the sole surviving member of the previous generation.
Amusingly, Zhang Chengling seemed to have already started his younger martial brothers on the foundations of their style. When Zhou Zishu had tested each of their individual skills, all had been giddy to show off the basics of the Swift Moving Steps. By some miracle, the majority of them had managed to master the steps much more adequately than Zhang “light as a feather, graceful as a chicken” Chengling had.
The Shaman and Lord Seventh had left after only a few days once both were satisfied with Zhou Zishu's health, pulling out a reluctant promise from their friend to send a letter if he ever needed help again. He and Wen Kexing had decided to stay at the Four Seasons Manor for a few weeks still to help put together the training manual they would need to follow. At first they had been weary of leaving each other's side, each still remembering how the other had gone off to die without a word, but after a few days they had managed it.
With Wen Kexing working in the kitchen, Zhou Zishu decided to take a break from his writing to sit outside on the steps.
With so many people running around the sect, it was rare to have a quiet moment alone now. Zhou Zishu had been certain he had endured more than enough silent loneliness for a lifetime while waiting for his partner to wake up; this misconception was immediately remedied two days into their stay at the manor.
Nineteen young men were loud and destructive. Zhang Chengling was an even match for that level of chaos, likely made worse due to Jing Beiyuan's influence, who excelled in the subject.
It wasn’t uncommon to hear crashing and banging at any time of day. Although the new disciples had all been raised by their previous masters to be respectful and polite, that didn’t stop them from running around and testing out the new things they had learnt whenever they had the chance.
Right now a group of them were in the kitchen with Wen Kexing, going for their daily lesson in cooking for when he and Zhou Zishu had to return to the mountain. How the twenty of them had managed to survive before now, none could quite say.
The days had been particularly hot and humid recently, it wasn’t unusual to see the disciples resting underneath the trees that had managed to survive the fire. Something about the heat seemed to spur the men on more, although shorter in duration, there were two times the number of mock fights than there had been in days previous.
Wen Kexing had been concerned about the heat himself, taking to keeping Zhou Zishu inside plied with bowls of baobing and cold tea at any given moment. While it didn’t completely keep the heat away, the care was enough for the two of them to be able to remain healthy and alive even within the maws of this summer’s suffocating warmth.
This was the first time Zhou Zishu was able to sit outside within the last few days, something he had been craving from the moment Wen Kexing had suggested they try to keep indoors as much as possible.
Four Seasons Manor had always bloomed with beautiful flowers all year long. As a child, Zhou Zishu hadn’t had much of a chance to appreciate this fact, first too buried in his studies, then later engulfed within the turmoil of trying to keep together an entire sect by himself at the age of sixteen. Even when working for his cousin, Zhou Zishu had little time to sit and enjoy nature. Most of his time had been dedicated to plotting. Back then, information gathering, assassination, and sabotage had seemed more important than watching flowers sway in the breeze.
He knew better now, of course.
Sitting there, watching the world go by, it felt as though his entire life up until now had been leading up to this moment. There was a small pond someone had insisted on installing to his left, the few lotus flowers in full-bloom dotting the mirrored surface of the water. Were there any koi living there? He hadn’t found the time to take a look and see. Maybe he would in a bit.
For now, he just wanted to sit.
There were only so many trees left after the fire, although the new disciples had been more than happy to plant new ones, it was much too soon to expect any of those seedlings to have grown enough to bloom flowers. Aside from the lotus, there were a few phoenix flower trees flowering here and there that someone must have looked after. Zhou Zishu had, admittedly, not focused as much of his studies on gardening and instead poured his energy into the art of disguise and his martial arts.
How they had been tended to wasn't so important as was his ability to admire them. There was a certain level of resilience to these flowers that had managed to survive the destruction of their home. A strength Zhou Zishu found familiar.
Would Lao Wen be happy if he gave him flowers? It was something Zhou Zishu of the past would never have even considered thinking; there was no time to pick flowers like a maiden, much less to give to who he had considered a pest in the past. Things had a way of changing in ways one could never expect.
They would have to come down here now and again to check up on the flowers, perhaps he could even bring some to his shifu’s and shidi’s graves. Either of them would be happy to know that flowers were blooming once again at the manor, flourishing along with the revitalized sect.
Letting his mind wander, Zhou Zishu thought back to everything he had experienced in the past year and a half. He had been so prepared to die, he hadn’t even given himself the chance to live. Drinking and lazing about in the sun all day had seemed ideal at the time, but looking back he hadn’t had much motivation to do anything else back then.
Although Wen Kexing and Zhang Chengling had annoyed him at first, ruining what he had considered a “good death” of drinking the days away, ultimately he could say he was more happy now than he had been his entire life. Even as a child, there had always been something looming over him. His mother’s death, his drive to study and be worthy of his position as head disciple, his father’s execution; it was only now that he could sit back and feel content with life.
Had he never met Wen Kexing, would he still be alive right now? Calculating how long it had been since he put the nails in, he would have likely been nearing the end of his life. Would he be drinking, dressed as a beggar still, whiling the time away until his inevitable end? Would his nights still be filled with the pain of the nails, growing ever worse with each passing day? How much of his senses would remain?
All too soon, Zhou Zishu became aware of just how tired he felt.
He had lived through thirty or so years of fighting and subterfuge. Now that he could finally stop and rest, it felt as though he could sit there for the rest of his immortal life.
Would it be so bad to live in eternal retirement? He and Lao Wen could travel down the mountain now and again to visit everyone and see the sights, but even just the two of them staying together up there in the armory was more than enough to make him happy.
As he continued to sit there, telling himself he would get up to bring flowers to Wen Kexing soon, Zhou Zishu began to notice a slight pain in the back of his head accompanied by a rising nausea at the bottom of his throat.
Had it been all of the baobing? Zhou Zishu had never been a fan of sweet things in the first place, having to eat a sweet treat for every meal must be beginning to take its toll on his body, immortal or not.
Perhaps it would be a good idea to go inside and drink some cold tea. It would help to settle his stomach at the least.
Bracing his hands on the wood beneath him, Zhou Zishu made to push himself back up from his seated position with more exertion than he had expected. He seemed to spring up all too quickly, a sudden dizziness washing over him, making it feel as though he were only half in his body. Everything seemed to suddenly be so far away, as though he had been picked up and plopped back down into a setting he didn’t belong in.
Confused by his own reaction, Zhou Zishu could do nothing to stop his weak legs from stumbling, one calf hitting the step he had just been seated on mere moments ago. Before he even knew what was going on, the man found himself sprawled out on the floor, breath coming in shallow gasps as he tried to take stock of what had just occurred.
Doing his best to focus on his body, Zhou Zishu looked at his own hand, only now realizing just how pale and clammy it looked. Had he not just been sitting outside on a warm summer day? How was he possibly even paler than he had been before coming out?
The answer seemed to be in the back of his mind, just escaping his grasp every time he tried to reach for it. His headache, which had only continued to grow more and more pronounced, seemed intent on keeping him from reaching any sort of explanation as to his current condition.
Once again bracing one hand down, Zhou Zishu attempted to push himself up a second time, determined to make it inside. While he might not be able to figure out what was going on right now, he could at least deduce he needed to go lay down and rest. He had never been the type who went to the doctor, laying down for an evening or so was always enough to solve any sort of problem that wasn’t too life-threatening.
Just as he had managed to prop up his torso, he suddenly became aware of just how sweaty he was. How could he not have noticed it before? His clothes were practically sticking to his skin, all but drenched and yet somehow, against all odds, he felt strangely chilled.
Had he been poisoned without his knowledge? He had been fine up until a teacup or so ago. There hadn’t been any food or drink around him, unless it was a slow-acting poison.
Trying to wrack his brain for which poisons took time to take effect, Zhou Zishu felt another wave of dizziness, now bolstered by his growing nausea, wash over him. With a groan, the man fell once more, lying helplessly on the floor.
What was going on? He wasn’t usually the type to be taken off guard, there hadn’t been any sudden light pain from hidden needles, no one had even come to speak to him for a shichen and a half now. This couldn’t be some side effect from immortality, could it?
Light-headed, Zhou Zishu only had enough time to hear someone call his name before he helplessly fell into the cool embrace of unconsciousness.
When Zhou Zishu awoke, it was to a comforting coolness and the distinct feel of clean clothes free of sweat.
Slowly opening his eyes, the man stared at the familiar ceiling for a moment as he gathered the last few flashes of memories he could recall before finding himself here. He had been sitting outside watching the flowers and thinking about life, then he had tried to get up, and…
...It had better not have been one of the kids who found him.
Zhou Zishu was pleased to find his headache had lightened back to a dull ache, barely noticeable if he didn’t feel for its presence. His legs were propped up on some spare pillow underneath the light undercover that had been thrown over him. A quick glance down revealed his clothing really had been changed, layers of white and blue exchanged for a simple thin white inner-robe.
Who had brought him back into his room and changed his clothing?
Shifting his focus away from his own body, Zhou Zishu let his eyes dart around the room for any sign of who might have found him. If it were Chengling, he’d have to be extra hard on the kid in tomorrow’s practice to make sure his image as a strong, tough teacher hadn’t been forgotten with this stunt.
The culprit was seated right beside his bedside, a bucket of cold water and a clean cloth sat neatly beside them on the floor.
In hindsight, it should have been obvious Wen Kexing wouldn’t have wanted anyone but himself to change Zhou Zishu’s clothes.
Said Wen was staring right back at the patient in bed, managing to look equal parts relieved and concerned. When their eyes met, the other man’s expression broke into a small smile, though that may or may not have been one he tried to fight to keep down.
“A-Xu, you’re awake!” he exclaimed, reaching forward to pluck something off of Zhou Zishu’s neck. It was a small square-shaped cloth, equal in size to the one hanging off of the side of the bucket. The younger man carefully wrung out his get, letting water squeeze out into a second bucket the Manor Lord was just now noticing.
Once it was sufficiently dried, Wen Kexing placed it on the side of the first bucket, picking up the other cloth and dipping it into the water. The new cloth was wrung out as well to dispel any excess water, then carefully placed right where the previous one had been on Zhou Zishu’s neck.
“...you can’t drink any alcohol either. A-Xu? Are you listening?” the words suddenly seemed to appear out of nowhere, causing Zhou Zishu to shake himself from his silent observations.
He must have still been out of it after whatever it was that had happened. His thoughts felt somewhat sluggish, his reasoning dulled. He hated it.
Barely resisting from twitching his eye at the words, Zhou Zishu responded, “No alcohol? Lao Wen, the nails didn’t kill me, are you now trying to instead?” they had already had this discussion before. As long as the alcohol was properly chilled, there was no reason to think they couldn’t drink it.
Voice serious, Wen Kexing replied, “I don’t have to, since you still seem so intent on doing it yourself,” smile long gone, “A-Xu, what were you thinking?” anger beginning to creep into his tone.
Realizing this was not a situation to be bantering in, the elder man questioned, “What do you mean?” then suddenly seemed to have remembered more of what happened, quickly sitting up, dislodging most of the cold clothes Wen Kexing had placed on his body, “What happened? Who poisoned me? Are the disciples alright?” almost falling back down as the sudden movement caused him to become light-headed again.
Wen Kexing reached forward, helping to lay his shixiong back down, replacing the cloths once more, “Lay back down,” he spoke, voice stern, “You weren’t poisoned. A-Xu,” he frowned now, though it differed from the angry one he had been wearing before, “Did you not realize you were overheating?”
Startled, Zhou Zishu looked at him in confusion, “What are you talking about?”
Now that he knew Zhou Zisuh hadn’t seemed to realize what had happened, Wen Kexing explained more calmly, “A-Xu, I found you on the verge of a heatstroke, shivering and barely breathing. If I had found you even an incense stick later, your body temperature might have risen too high even for a normal human. We’re supposed to keep cold in the first place, how did you not realize what was happening?” he asked. Seeming to suddenly remember something, he picked up a cup of water on one of the side tables and handed it to the elder man.
Taking it, he gave a few tentative sips, startled by just how thirsty he was. Zhou Zishu hadn’t realized just how dry his throat had been until the first few sips slipped blissfully down his throat, leaving a trail of cool comfort in their wake. Before he could drink it too quickly, Wen Kexing had reached forward, lightly holding his hand down to prevent him from taking any more.
Zhou Zishu used those few moments of distraction to further collect his thoughts, replying, “I guess I was too lost in my thoughts. It’s a good thing I have such an attentive soulmate to watch over me,” trying to lighten the mood.
With a half-pleased half-stern expression he couldn’t control, Wen Kexing responded, “That’s right. So don’t let my work go to waste. You have to stay in bed for the next two days, only drink water and cold tea, and eat the baobing I make you. I gave you a cold bath earlier, but it would be a good idea for you to take another one tonight to be safe,” his words leaving no room for argument.
Seeing how shaken up the other was, Zhou Zishu spoke placatingly, “Alright, alright. I promise to listen to everything you say. I was too caught up in my thoughts, it won’t happen again,” hoping to soothe the younger man’s clearly frayed nerves. Perhaps this had been one too many near death experiences.
“A-Xu, I thought you had…” Wen Kexing trailed off, as though unable to say the words they both knew he meant to. Grabbing Zhou Zishu’s hand from under the thin cover, he continued, voice more firm, “You have to stay inside, at least when it’s this hot out. Once things are settled here, we’re going back to the mountain until winter comes,” looking at the elder man as though daring him to say a word against what had just been said.
Not willing to argue, Zhou Zishu tacitly agreed, not wanting to upset his partner anymore than he already had. Pleased with his agreement, Wen Kexing soon launched into a tale detailing how much of a disaster today’s cooking lesson had gone. As he half-paid attention, nodding along or responding whenever it seemed like he should, Zhou Zishu couldn’t help but think back to earlier in the day.
Not once while he was outside had he felt how hot it was. He hadn’t even felt his own clothing sticking to him until after he had fallen over. It was as though one moment he had been perfectly at ease without any sort of inkling towards discomfort, then the next suddenly cold and clammy, unable to even stand up on his own.
Just what was going on?