Chapter Text
So rarely did Qing Ming rise up early in the morning.
The proverb “The early bird catches the worm” didn’t necessarily apply to him since, one, he wasn’t a bird and two, anyone with some ornithological knowledge could tell that many species of birds were nocturnal rather than diurnal. Take owls for instance. Moreover, the vulpine blood in him thrived after sunset, making him keener and more active in the evening than he was in the morning. Fully aware of this particular quirk, Master Zhong Xing had cut him some slack – a lot of slack actually – since the little half-demon child came to study under him, which meant not once Qing Ming had been scolded for showing up a little late at the morning classes or for nodding off during lessons. This special treatment, which had earned some ire from his classmates, had continued well into his adolescence, by then he had already mastered the skills to rein in his vulpine side and function like a mostly normal human; nonetheless, he still much preferred the moon and stars to the blazing sun and if he could help it, he would take a nap during the hours when the sun was the highest in the sky.
There had been a few times when Qing Ming had had to get up early, one of which being the short period he’d spent in the Imperial Palace as a guest. A day in the Palace started early, and even before sunrise, everyone, including the Empress herself, was ready for various day tasks; it would be heavily frowned upon if you were found to be languidly enjoying your brunch in your loose sleeping robe with your hair down while everyone else was bustling with activities; in fact, one of these people had scowled at him upon seeing Qing Ming in the merry company of his Spirit Guardians, nowhere ready to set out for the gigantic workload they had been assigned to. What an uptight man, Qing Ming had thought, his gaze lingering on the receding back.
Yet, at the moment, he was busy getting ready for a date– ahem, a meeting, with said upright man, who would show up at his mansion in a couple hours as promised in his most recent letter. And by “getting ready” he meant thorough grooming because the hectic weeks before had left him in a scruffy state: Hard stubble had sprouted on his jaws and chin, his nails had grown to an unacceptable length by human standard, and he believed he had been wearing the same robe in three consecutive days, which had begun to smell funny despite Flower’s efforts. So, Qing Ming had done something rather uncharacteristic of him: he had risen before the sun, picked his perfect outfit for a day of ambling along the riverbank, boating in the river and finally, finishing with a lavish meal in the shade of the cherry blossom trees. For the last few hours he had been laboring in the bath chamber with the aid of his trusted Spirit Guardians, Fish and Flower, trying to achieving his best look without looking like he had been trying too much – a task easier said than done. The Twins were experts in personal grooming and Qing Ming wouldn’t hesitate to admit his life had become a lot easier since he took them under his wing.
“Something light with just a hint of musk suits the occasion, I think,” Flower suggested in his usual, soft tone. His presence filled the bath chamber with a faint flowery scent that reminded Qing Ming of a lazy stroll through the dewy garden, boosting his already upbeat mood.
“As you say,” Qing Ming replied, lifting his chin to allow Fish to tie the knot of his headwear. “You’re the expert on scents.”
Flower bowed lightly and blew gently at the air surrounding Qing Ming. Instantly the scent he had described wafted before Qing Ming’s nostrils, bringing a smile to his lips. He hoped Bo Ya would take a liking to this scent as much he did.
Fish, who had been diligently working on his task, lifted his head and startled Qing Ming with a glowing red eye. “He’s coming,” said both twins in eerie, perfect unison.
“Who? Bo Ya?” Qing Ming said, a tad unnerved. He wasn’t used to having the twins exerting their premonition powers in his presence, having experienced it only twice so far.
“No,” came their cryptic answer before the glow died and their eyes returned to normal. Qing Ming didn’t have a chance to process the news before he sensed a shift in the air. He cluck his tongue, watching a portal rip itself out of the air and He Shou Yue plopped down from the spatial tear.
“What did we say about barging into the bath chamber, He Shou Yue?” Qing Ming said with a hint of frost.
He Shou Yue actually had the grace to look sheepish, his cheeks tinted pink and a light sheen of sweat covering his forehead. “He at the entrance,” he panted. “He about to break through barrier.”
Frowning, Qing Ming looked over his shoulder at The Twins. “Same guest you were talking about?”
Both boys nodded, synchronizing their act to millisecond. It actually looked kind of creepy if you weren’t used to their behaviors. One of their many “twin” things, apparently.
As if on cue, Qing Ming felt a breach of his barrier, which he had erected around the mansion to protect it and all of its residents. What baffled him, however, was the manner in which that uninvited guest broke into his home: it felt almost… careful, gentle even, with minimal impact on the part of his psyche responsible for maintaining the barrier, which was why Qing Ming was still able to remain calm. Instead of kicking down the gate with brute force, this intruder was taking their sweet time to pick the lock using a set of “keys” he’d duplicated from Qing Ming’s own.
Every magic user had a distinct set of magic patterns in the spells they cast – their “keys” – and Qing Ming’s bore heavy influence of his demon heritage, which meant whoever was coming through the entrance was most likely sharing his blood.
Qing Ming couldn’t help mouthing a curse. The last thing he wanted on earth was to deal with a relative from his mother’s side. Despite having more aunts, uncles and cousins than he could meet in this lifetime, he wasn’t close to any of them; in fact, the majority were either unaware of his existence – foxes tended to keep to themselves – or put off by the mere notion of mixing their blood with a human’s and thus, preferred to keep their distance from the half-demon child. That a fox demon related to him by a flimsy tie of blood had arrived at his door without prior notice spelled nothing but trouble.
His mood officially taking a nosedive, Wing Ming pinched the spot between his eyebrows and heaved a sigh, bracing himself to come out and give his “guest” a proper greeting.
“Tell others to stand by or stay in their rooms and absolutely do not approach the stranger,” he ordered The Twins, who bowed in silence and took He Shou Yue by the scruff of his neck to employ as their “vehicle” – aside from Snow Hound who could fly, he was the fastest to move around the huge mansion thanks to his teleportation spell.
“To whom do I owe the pleasure?” Qing Ming announced, pushing open the door of the bath chamber to the front yard. His voice was clear but not too loud, his posture relaxed but not slouched, and he hoped to strike an image of calm and confidence in front of whoever was challenging him by breaking into his home. He was also physically and mentally prepared for a fight; despite being an advocate of peace, he held a firm belief sometimes necessary violence was the best (and only) resort.
Once he had a good look of his visitor, Qing Ming’s confidence crumbled like dry dough. Just a minute ago, he had been convinced there was no enemy who could unnerve him, as he had faced and prevailed over the indomitable Evil Serpent. Apparently, to err was mortal and Qing Ming was no exception: how was he supposed to fight an opponent wearing Bo Ya’s face?
Rooted on the spot, Qing Ming stared at his visitor for a short eternity and then blinked slowly, his eyes flashing gold. Nope, still Bo Ya’s features, down to his slanted eyes and the slope of his nose which Qing Ming had dutifully committed to his memory so there was no way he would mistake them anywhere. Moreover, this was neither an illusion nor a guise but rather a “true” face – as true as a demon could claim when crafting their human form. Also, standing in front of him in a flowing blue robe, with his hair down instead of styled in a topknot like Bo Ya, was undoubtedly a fox demon, and a powerful one at that, given his multiple tails. One… two… three… eight. Eight tails! The number had Qing Ming arch an incredulous brow. Why eight? His demonic aura denoted an ancient, mighty fox so Qing Ming wouldn’t be too surprised to see nine bushy tails wagging behind him. Eight seemed… incomplete, like something crucial was missing and to be honest, Qing Ming couldn’t tell what that was supposed to mean.
“You done counting my tails?” the familiar stranger said, reminding Qing Ming that he was standing before a fox demon who could rival his own mother. The Yin-Yang Master tensed, willing his energy to the tips of his fingers, ready for battle.
“If you’re done, come and greet your cousin properly. Whether in terms of age or familial status, I’m your senior so I expect you, little cousin, to at least have some respect during my time here.”
The corner of Qing Ming’s left eye twitched. The audacity of this fox! “I’m sorry, but who are you?”
The stranger’s eyes rounded and his lips pursed. “Really?” he said incredulously, a hand on his hip. “Have you been in human company for too long that you forgot your own family? I keep telling Auntie that humans are bad influence but she never heeds my advice and takes you back home.”
The mention of his mother produced a rough squeeze in his chest. “I have too many relatives that I’m afraid I can’t keep up with all of them,” Qing Ming replied, narrowing his eyes. “Besides, I do recall that ‘your family’ didn’t exactly welcome a half-human hybrid into their ranks with open arms so forgive me if I’m trying to make a mark for myself in this world.” He took a small pause, inhaling deeply to rein in his budding anger. “This is my home and you are trespassing, which I suppose isn’t the grace fox demons proud themselves on. Either you tell me why you are here or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
The stranger shrugged, seemingly unfazed by Qing Ming’s frosty tone. His hands clasped behind his back, he glanced around the place. “Some mark you’ve made,” he commented with a light curve of his thin lips. “Can’t say I’m not the least impressed. And those little demons and spirits that scurried away when they saw me entering, are they your servants?”
“They are my Spirit Guardians, bound to me as a Yin-Yang Master.”
“Strange terms, eh? How about giving me a couple of those Guardians when I return home? I could use a few helping hands around my den. It’s getting kind of… messy as of late.”
“No,” Qing Ming flatly denied.
“Cold much?” the stranger said. “You were a lot cuter when we met, uhm, I don’t know, twenty something years ago – years don’t mean much when you’re at my age. You were but a snotty-nosed brat clinging to Auntie’s sleeve back then. Oh, and you wept like a wailing spirit at the slightest scare.”
Realization dawned on Qing Ming as the memory of his one-time visit to the fox demon clan returned with all the subtlety of an avalanche. “You!” he growled, his carefully maintained composure basically tossed out of the proverbial window. “You were that Zi Xu!”
The fox demon called Zi Xu grinned, eyes flashing bright green and fangs gleaming in the morning light, and this expression on Bo Ya’s face was so alien to Qing Ming that he had a severe case of mental whiplash. “Now you remember me,” he said.
“Your little stunt nearly scared me to death! Literally!”
“It was fun, wasn’t it?”
Qing Ming bit the insides of his cheeks to stop a curse word from forming. “I was four!”
“And had Auntie’s blood in you,” Zi Xu countered. “No wonder the others wanted nothing to do with you. You know how fox demons are: they value strength and power above all else.”
This kind of victim blaming made his veins at his temples pop and it took all his years of mediation under his master’s watchful eyes and instruction for Qing Ming to not lash out at his cousin. It was clear by now Zi Xu didn’t come looking for a scuffle, which Qing Ming considered a silver lining in this whole situation. Zi Xu’s little anecdote had jogged his memory and despite having forgotten most of the events during that visit, he still retained a clear impression that Zi Xu had been both feared and revered by other younger foxes, the former more so than the latter. The years had only made him more powerful and though Qing Ming wasn’t a coward, he believed a fight with such fearsome demon happening in the heart of his home would be unadvisable, especially when Bo Ya might show up any moment. So, he acted wisely, coming forward and bowing deeply to his elder cousin. “It’s been a long time, Cousin Zi Xu,” he said. “Have you been well?”
His gesture seemed to please Zi Xu as he sported a wide grin and patted Qing Ming’s head. “That’s more like it,” he said.
“And what business could you possibly have with this humble younger cousin, may I ask? Last time I heard, you were going to settle down with someone.”
“Last time” was, of course, twenty something years ago when he had first met Zi Xu. He recalled vaguely the occasion had been to celebrate and bid farewell to a cousin who was going to tie the knot soon, and it had been huge because Zi Xu’s future partner had been rumored to be a god. Not that Qing Ming had the slightest idea about any god who had defied the norms to mingle with a demon.
“It’s been well, thanks for asking,” Zi Xu said. “Divorce isn’t in the picture for at least a few centuries more, so I’m not here about that.”
Naturally, Qing Ming thought. Who in their right mind would come seeking marriage counsel from a distant cousin they hadn’t met in years?
“Then what are you here for? Surely the purpose of your visit can’t possibly be out of concern for your cousin.”
Zi Xu pursed his lips. “You’ve seen it with your own eyes,” he said. “I’m here for my tail.”
To be continued