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I.
Quan Yizhen was confused. He’d been finding himself confused a lot lately, ever since he’d started spending time with His Highness Xie Lian. His Highness was kind, and he was strong, so he was an excellent person to be spending time with, but strange things seemed to always be happening around him. Quan Yizhen wasn’t sure if it was directly because of His Highness, or if these strange things would be happening anyway; since he didn’t know, he didn’t spend too much time thinking about it. At the very least, things weren’t as boring as they usually were.
In fact, things had even gotten interesting. He’d been able to fight any number of strange ghosts; he’d fought a swarm of wrathful spirits while in the form of a giant sword; he’d met the Ghost King Hua Cheng, who was incredibly strong and whom he hoped he would have the chance to fight soon, too.
But the most interesting, and really the only important thing, was that Yin Yu, his shixiong, had shown up out of nowhere. Quan Yizhen had been stuck in a wall for some reason when his shixiong suddenly reappeared in his life, shovel in hand to dig him out. He kept hiding from him and wouldn’t answer any of his questions or explain anything, and that was frustrating, but Quan Yizhen was used to that. No one ever bothered to explain anything to him. It must be the most arduous task in the world, because no one seemed willing or indeed even capable of it.
The Heavenly Emperor had told Quan Yizhen to go to his territory in the west to defend a city from a mass of resentful spirits. When he’d asked why, everyone had rolled their eyes like Xuan Zhen. But then Yin Yu had spoken up, not to explain, but to show him what to do. It had felt too good to be true: his shixiong was here, with him, and they were going somewhere, together.
Yin Yu still walked quickly, just like Quan Yizhen remembered. He had to take an extra half-step every so often to keep up. It felt good, like old times. His shixiong wouldn’t look at him as they walked nearly side-by-side though, gaze fixed straight ahead. Soon they came to one of the ancient houses preserved by the ash of Mount Tong’lu. They went inside and Yin Yu immediately set to drawing an array on the inside of the door.
Quan Yizhen glanced around the space, and seeing nothing particularly interesting there watched his shixiong instead. A thousand questions were whirling inside his head but he couldn’t ask them all at once so instead he said, “Thanks for coming with me, Shixiong.”
Yin Yu jumped a little at the sudden outburst, loud in the small, silent place. Luckily he didn’t mess up the array. He glanced at Quan Yizhen with a look that was all too familiar, an inexplicable look Quan Yizhen remembered from the last few times they had seen one another. Then he shrugged, turning back to the array. “Chengzhu would have ordered me to go if I hadn’t offered. There’s no need to thank me.”
Feeling slightly thwarted, but grateful for any response, Quan Yizhen went on, “I’m glad you’re not running from me.”
Yin Yu’s hand paused over the array. Quan Yizhen took the chance to appreciate the gracefulness of his shixiong’s fingers. “No one can run forever,” he said softly, almost to himself.
“Have you been working for the Ghost King this whole time?” Quan Yizhen asked, watching the array take shape. Why did these things have to take so long?
“…Not the whole time,” Yin Yu replied eventually. It was a short answer for such a long pause.
“Why are you working for him?” Maybe that would get him a better explanation.
“Because he pays me,” was the blunt response.
Confounded, Quan Yizhen sat down on the floor with a thud, trying not to pout. He had been looking for his shixiong for centuries, and now that he’d finally turned up, he didn’t want to explain himself. He just wore that look he got sometimes, like he didn’t mean what he was saying, like he wanted to say something else.
Quan Yizhen couldn’t stand that look. It confused him more than anything else did.
It looked like the array was nearly complete. Still on the floor, Quan Yizhen asked, “Where is that taking us, Shixiong?”
Yin Yu turned to throw him a disappointed frown. “To the largest city in your territory, Yizhen. Weren’t you paying any attention? You need to listen when the Heavenly Emperor is speaking.”
“I know, but sometimes it’s hard.”
Yin Yu blinked, brushing away what looked like a brief flash of anger. “What, to pay attention?”
Quan Yizhen shrugged. “Yeah, but also sometimes even when I pay attention, things still don’t always make sense.”
“Things don’t always have to make sense,” Yin Yu replied with a sigh. He activated the array and it glowed brightly. Quan Yizhen continued to sit on the floor, watching him. Looking reluctant, as though it took great effort and he didn’t really want to know the answer, Yin Yu asked him, “Are you referring to something in particular right now?”
Quan Yizhen stood. Yin Yu took an unconscious step back. “Those resentful spirits,” he replied, “what are they going after my followers for?”
Yin Yu gave Quan Yizhen an appraising glance that made his skin prickle. “You answered your own question,” he said, voice suddenly cold. “They’re resentful. They lash out at anything that isn’t suffering like they are. They don’t act logically anymore; their pent-up anger and pain is too strong.”
Quan Yizhen nodded, grateful for the straightforward answer. “Shixiong?”
Yin Yu sighed, opening the door to the scent of fresh night air and pine trees. “What.”
“Why have you been hiding all these years?”
Ignoring him, Yin Yu stepped through the door and began to walk away into the darkness. Quan Yizhen rushed after him, only to nearly collide with him when he turned to glance back at the moonlit building they had just exited. Quan Yizhen turned as well, but all it was was a dilapidated shrine; it looked like it had been abandoned for a long time. The roof had collapsed and a tall tree was growing through it. It was more overgrown vines than structure in some places. The establishment plaque was completely obscured where it wasn’t badly damaged by the elements.
Yin Yu gave the shrine a long look. It made Quan Yizhen’s chest hurt to see that look, though he couldn’t say why. It was sad and angry and something else he couldn’t place, and he didn’t like to see it on his shixiong’s face. He wondered who the shrine had belonged to. He was about to ask when, awful look vanishing, Yin Yu turned again and began walking down the steep hill to the forest path below.
“Please, Shixiong,” Quan Yizhen begged as he bounded after him, “I’ve been looking for you for so long. I’ve wanted to talk to you about what happened. Won’t you please tell me why you’ve been avoiding me?”
Somehow Yin Yu’s pace quickened. “Yizhen, that’s enough. It’s none of your business.”
Quan Yizhen’s frustration flared. “It used to be!” he shouted, feeling his blood rush and his muscles bunch like at the start of a fight.
That made Yin Yu come to a halt. His dark eyes grew wary and he didn’t reply.
“Where you were, what you were doing, that used to be my business!” Quan Yizhen cried, fists tight, feet nearly stomping the ground.
“Yes, and then I tried to kill you,” Yin Yu answered, voice clipped and precise. His face flushed dark and he wouldn’t meet Quan Yizhen’s eyes.
“Did you mean to?” He wished his shixiong would look at him.
Yin Yu threw up his hands. “Clearly!” he shouted.
“I don’t believe you.”
For a moment, Yin Yu only stared at him, speechless. Then he began to walk quickly away again.
Quan Yizhen hated this. Why would no one ever explain anything? “You were always so good, so kind,” he called after Yin Yu. “Someone said they heard you say it was a misunderstanding.” He was actually struggling to keep up with his shixiong now. “Is that what it was? What did you mean? Why would you want me to die?”
Yin Yu spun around. “Quan Yizhen!” he shouted, with all of the authority of the Waning Moon Officer behind him.
Quan Yizhen felt himself snap to attention.
“We are currently pursuing something in your territory that is an immediate threat to your followers.” Though Yin Yu’s voice had grown suddenly calm, there was something about the way he said ‘your’ that felt unspeakably angry, like Quan Yizhen had done something unforgiveable. But then the moment passed, and Yin Yu grew distant again. “None of this is important right now,” he murmured.
“But Shixiong—”
“No,” he said firmly. “What we’re doing right now takes priority. Do you understand?”
Jaw tight, eyes burning like he was about to cry, Quan Yizhen whispered, “…Yes, Shixiong.”
“Good. Come on.”
“Yes, Shixiong.”
Yin Yu turned, and his eyes softened slightly. “Don’t sulk.”
His tone, nearly comforting and almost fond, reminded Quan Yizhen so much of times long past that it forced the hot tears to roll down his cheeks.
~
The resentful spirits, the vengeful ghosts of the people of Wuyong, as his shixiong had finally explained, were easy enough to deal with. Quan Yizhen probably could have handled them on his own, but he was glad to have Yin Yu there with him for his guidance and his steady presence.
As the last of the spirits dissipated under his blade with a keening wail, Quan Yizhen turned to Yin Yu. “How was that, Shixiong?” He hadn’t even broken a sweat, he wasn’t even breathing hard, but the fight had still left him feeling exhilarated and bright.
The look, like he wanted to say something different, flashed across Yin Yu’s eyes. Then he sighed, seeming sad, angry, and proud all at once. “…It was magnificent,” he said softly, turning away, the curve of his ear suddenly red.
A feeling like satisfaction, but so much purer, punched the air out of Quan Yizhen. All he’d ever wanted was to be someone his shixiong could be proud of. But his swelling heart fell with a cold plunge as he saw Yin Yu reach into a pocket and pull out a pair of dice.
“Shixiong, wait—”
But he had already stepped through the distance-shortening array, and it had closed behind him, leaving Quan Yizhen on his own again.
II.
Quan Yizhen was confused. He’d been locked in his palace, communications had been cut, and then the Heavenly Emperor had shown up and attacked him, beating him badly. To his delight, but further confusion, Yin Yu had appeared to help him again, but things quickly grew nightmarish.
Having his spiritual powers taken from him had been excruciating, but it was nothing compared to how it felt to hear his shixiong shout things like, ‘Of course I resent him! Of course I hate him!’ He had never wanted Yin Yu to feel that way.
‘But so what?’
As Yin Yu tried to save him Quan Yizhen sobbed his apologies, unsure of what he had done but so sorry nonetheless. His shixiong refused his pleas for forgiveness even as he hoisted him onto his back, even as Jun Wu sucked the life from him, even as he died in His Highness’ arms, full of regret. The last look Yin Yu gave Quan Yizhen was complicated, revolted and fond and fleeting. He left him with more questions and even fewer answers, entirely alone.
The sudden silence of the palace was disturbing. After the piercing energy blasts, the crumbling columns and falling statues, the shouts, the screams, the cold laughter of the Heavenly Emperor, all that was left was the sound of his own shuddering sobs. Yin Yu lay still and silent, eyes closed forever. There would be no more complicated looks or bewildering declarations. Quan Yizhen sat with his shixiong’s head in his lap until his heaving breaths had calmed to long, painful sighs.
At one point, he wasn’t sure how much later, he heard a harsh, crazed voice in the distance taunting the other heavenly officials. When the Green Ghost landed on the shattered roof of the Palace of Qi Ying, Quan Yizhen immediately grabbed his own fallen divine statue and flung it at Qi Rong, knocking him from the building. The ghost began shouting almost immediately after hitting the ground, but his words went unheeded, as an angry buzzing had begun in Quan Yizhen’s head.
He had thrown his own divine statue straight out of his palace, as though it held no value except as an object of blunt force. What good was Qi Ying anyway, unable to beat the Heavenly Emperor and with a shixiong who hated him? The pain and anger were hard and bright in his chest and his head.
Then the heavenly realm was burning and Tai Hua showed up shouting about evacuation, so Quan Yizhen wiped the blood and tears from both their faces, lifted Yin Yu’s body – far too light – onto his back, and left the ruined Palace of Qi Ying. What happened next would make even less sense than all that had come before.
III.
Quan Yizhen was confused. He’d spent over a year keeping his shixiong’s body safe, then another half a year nurturing the soul that Crimson Rain had released from the cursed shackle. He’d been devoted and vigilant, but now that it was finally time to restore Yin Yu to life, he wasn’t allowed to be there for it.
Then His Highness, voice soft with sympathy, explained, “We don’t know how Yin Yu will react to seeing you. It might upset him.”
Quan Yizhen heaved a sigh. Of course His Highness was right; he had understood how Yin Yu felt long before Quan Yizhen ever did. But he didn’t have to like it.
“I’ll let you know how he’s doing as soon as I can,” His Highness assured him. “And when he asks for you,” he added, so kindly that it made Quan Yizhen’s throat seize up, “I’ll invite you to come see him.”
~
He waited two hundred forty-three days to hear His Highness’ voice enter his personal communication array with the words, “Would you be able to come to Paradise Manor this evening, Qi Ying? Yin Yu says he’d like to see you.”
“I can come right now!” he cried into the array, jumping up so fast he nearly injured himself.
“This evening, Qi Ying,” His Highness repeated, with laughter in his voice. “Remember what we discussed about delicate situations?”
Quan Yizhen nodded, then realized His Highness couldn’t see him. “Right. Not everything can be solved with brute force. I know.”
“Okay. We’ll see you this evening.” Quan Yizhen could picture His Highness’ warm, wise smile. “I know you can do this.”
He was practically vibrating with nerves and excitement as he willed the sun to sink faster. Most days felt too long to Quan Yizhen lately, but this one was the worst by far. He tried to plan what he was going to say when he finally saw his shixiong again; he’d thought of so many things during his vigil that he’d forgotten most of them, only to have them pop up again when he wasn’t looking for them. Now everything was a jumbled mess that made his head hurt and he’d never gotten the hang of writing things down so they sounded exactly the way they felt in his heart.
He’d just have to think on his feet, like he did when he fought.
That thought gave him a heavy, sinking feeling. Fighting wasn’t a good comparison here; he couldn’t force his way through this reunion. But it really was the only thing he knew.
He began to watch the sun with growing anxiety.
~
Xie Lian tried to offer Quan Yizhen some words of encouragement when they met that evening in the main hall of Paradise Manor, but they didn’t sink in. The pounding of his heart and the buzzing of his nerves distracted him. He barely even saw the warning glare Crimson Rain was giving him over His Highness’ shoulder. All he could think about was what look his shixiong might have on his face when they were in a room together again. His mouth had never felt so dry.
The little ghost servant who led Quan Yizhen to Yin Yu’s study was so terrified of the martial god behind her that she didn’t even announce him as she rapped lightly on the door, then scurried off.
There was no response from within. Quan Yizhen waited an agonizing moment, then wiped his sweaty palms on his trouser legs and opened the door.
Yin Yu was seated at a desk in the center of a room lined with shelves piled high with books and scrolls. The lamp at his elbow threw warm light on his face as he read the document before him; his eyelashes cast long shadows on his pale cheeks. Quan Yizhen felt a tightness in his throat as he watched him, unable to make a sound. He looked busy.
Then he glanced up with a start to see Quan Yizhen hesitating in the open doorway. There was the briefest flash of that hunted look from Mount Tong’lu, but then it relaxed into something more neutral, the impartial expression that allowed him to fade so easily into the background.
Neither were looks he’d wanted to see. Without a word, Quan Yizhen crashed to his knees, then bent over into a full bow, forehead touching the floor tiles.
Immediately there was a scraping sound at the desk, then Yin Yu was kneeling beside him, hands on his shoulders, warm and alive. “Yizhen,” he said softly.
That almost made it worse. A hoarse, painful sound forced its way out of Quan Yizhen, shaking him. “…Shixiong, I’m sorry…!” he cried, more breath than voice. He knew he was near tears, and he trembled as he tried to hold them back.
Yin Yu sighed, settling on the floor next to him. “Yizhen, get up. There’s no point in apologizing.” He didn’t sound angry, just tired. One of his hands still rested lightly on Quan Yizhen’s shuddering back.
Quan Yizhen shook his head, rocking his forehead back and forth on the cold, hard tiles. “But I want to apologize, Shixiong…!”
Yin Yu was silent for a moment. “Then where are you even bowing?” he asked, a hint of exasperated amusement in his tone.
Still bent forward, Quan Yizhen tried to turn so he faced his shixiong again, but with another sigh, Yin Yu grabbed his arms firmly and hauled him upright, forcing them face-to-face. “That’s enough,” he said.
Quan Yizhen only gazed at him mournfully, face still threatening tears.
Without another word, Yin Yu gently rubbed at the mark on Quan Yizhen’s forehead with his long, graceful fingers. He frowned when his eyes fell on the burn scars on his face and neck, but he didn’t say anything.
“Shixiong, I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to beat the Heavenly Emperor,” Quan Yizhen said, voice still strangled by unshed tears. “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to save you.”
Yin Yu pulled his hand away and sighed. “I was never angry with you about that. Even Chengzhu and His Highness together were barely enough to defeat him.”
Brow tingling from the sensation of his shixiong’s touch, Quan Yizhen went on, “But I should have been stronger! After everything I took from you, after you worked so hard and I took it, I should have been strong enough to pay you back! I’m sorry I overshadowed you, I’m sorry I took your followers, I didn’t mean to!”
Yin Yu reeled back from the outburst, looking like he wanted to speak.
“And I know that made it worse, that I did it without even meaning to!” Quan Yizhen hurried to add, seeing the look on his shixiong’s face and reading it well. “I know it made you feel betrayed, and… and worthless, and it made me look thoughtless. I was thoughtless! I’m sorry I didn’t even notice what was happening, I’m sorry I didn’t notice how you felt. I’m sorry for ascending, I didn’t understand what you meant when you told me to try, I only wanted to be with you…!”
The room fell quiet, the only sound Quan Yizhen’s harsh breathing. Yin Yu had turned away from his shouts, but Quan Yizhen could tell that he’d heard them: he saw his shixiong’s chest rising and falling with frantic breaths.
“Did His Highness explain all of that to you?” he asked after they’d both had a moment to recover. His expression and his voice had grown cold.
Quan Yizhen shook his head frantically. “He didn’t. I had a lot of time to think about what you said— at the end, and about everything that happened. I almost didn’t do anything but think about it. Then I started to really watch the plays my followers perform, instead of just beating them up for it—”
He was interrupted by a soft laugh from his shixiong. It was only a puff of air and the hint of a smile, but it was a laugh nonetheless.
Brightening, he continued, “And after I thought about everything, I did talk to His Highness about it, about what I had done and why you hated me, and… he said he thought I was right. He seemed surprised.”
A soft light had come into Yin Yu’s eyes. “No doubt,” he said with the smallest of smiles, his voice gentle. Then he shook his head, the cold look making another appearance. “Don’t ever apologize for ascending, Yizhen.”
His mouth fell open. “I— That just came out, I didn’t—” He took the moment his shixiong allowed him to gather his thoughts. “I only meant that I’m sorry that my ascending hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you.”
“That’s better,” Yin Yu replied. “Now, please let me speak.”
Quan Yizhen nodded, sitting straighter and giving him his full attention.
“His Highness told me what you did. How you… kept me safe and nurtured my soul…” His cheeks flared pink and Quan Yizhen stared at him. Yin Yu cast his eyes down. “I’m both grateful and proud. I never expected you to do anything like that, I certainly didn’t deserve it—”
Quan Yizhen moved to protest, but Yin Yu held up his hand. His sleeve shifted, exposing the discolored scar on his wrist from the cursed shackle. He gave it a brief look, then continued, “But you’ve given me another chance, and I’d like to get it right this time. So thank you.”
Overcome, Quan Yizhen only nodded, lip quivering.
“I know I made you wait a long time,” Yin Yu continued, flicking him only the quickest glance. “I needed to think about everything, too.”
“It’s okay, Shixiong,” Quan Yizhen managed against his own throat’s attempts to strangle him. He would have been happy to wait ten times as long. Then Yin Yu put a hand on his cheek and he nearly lost his composure entirely.
“Tell me what this is about,” his shixiong said, thumb running slowly along the raised edge of angry, ruined skin.
“It’s a reminder,” Quan Yizhen whispered, voice tight enough to snap. “A reminder that I wasn’t good enough.”
Realization dawned in Yin Yu’s eyes. “Wait, are these from—” He pulled his hand away again; Quan Yizhen leaned forward to follow his retreating touch, but stopped when he saw his shixiong’s fierce expression. “These are from when you fought Jun Wu again? They should be healed by now.”
“I didn’t let them heal,” Quan Yizhen confessed, still in a whisper.
“You don’t need to be ashamed of being weaker than the emperor—” Yin Yu hissed.
“But I’m ashamed of taking something from you that you wanted so badly, and then not even caring about it,” Quan Yizhen interrupted, voice gaining strength. “When the emperor killed you, I hated him so much, but I hated myself even more. When I fought him again, I wanted to kill him, but if I couldn’t do that, I hoped that I would at least die trying.” He showed his hands, scarred as well, to Yin Yu who grasped them without hesitation, face horrified. “But I didn’t die, so I had to keep going, as a god who stole a place in the heavens. I started to work harder, even though I hated it, because I was still here, and you weren’t anymore, and…” He started to lose his momentum. “I had to be good for both of us, I had to be worthy of what I took from you. I got some deputy officials, so my palace could get more done, so I could answer as many prayers as I could…”
“Did you appoint them yourself…?” Yin Yu asked, looking stunned and like he didn’t know what else to say.
Quan Yizhen shook his head. “His Highness found them for me. They’re all right, I don’t dislike them.”
His shixiong sighed in relief, squeezing his hands. “Yizhen, I think you can get rid of those scars now. You don’t need any reminding. You’ve done well.”
Feeling like his heart was about to fly from his chest, Quan Yizhen grasped Yin Yu’s wrist with both hands. “Please, Shixiong, can we heal this scar, too? It always makes me think of being without you.”
Yin Yu threw him a heartbroken look, then pulled his hand away, but not too far. “I’d like to keep it for now,” he murmured, eyes lowered. “As proof that I… didn’t make the wrong choice at the end.”
He didn’t know how to say it, there were so many thoughts fighting for a place nearer his mouth, but Quan Yizhen thought that their scars might mean even more than that; that maybe they were also proof of their willingness to live and die for each other. Tongue-tied, he simply took his shixiong’s hand again, resting his thumb over the back of his scarred wrist, hoping that said enough.
Yin Yu sighed again. “I don’t know if anything I’m saying right now makes sense.”
Quan Yizhen knew exactly what to say to that. “Things don’t always have to make sense, Shixiong.”
Yin Yu gave him an odd look, then seemed to recollect the old conversation. “Didn’t you say once that paying attention was hard?” he asked, a small smile quirking his lips and brow.
“Not when it’s you.”
He made a face like Quan Yizhen had stabbed him in the chest. “Are you really my Yizhen?” he asked, voice faint with disbelief.
Quan Yizhen nodded, overcome by those words, my Yizhen. “Yours,” he managed, voice rough with emotion.
The sudden, fond look in Yin Yu’s eyes obscured the sad, angry shadow that was always resting there. Seeing it, Quan Yizhen threw his arms around his shixiong.
Yin Yu was stiff as a corpse for a long moment, so long that Quan Yizhen thought about letting him go, but then something seemed to loosen in him. He leaned into the embrace, resting his head against Quan Yizhen’s, pressing his hands flat against his back. Quan Yizhen held him tighter, feeling them breathe together, feeling their heartbeats synchronize.
When he felt Yin Yu start to pull away, his heart cried out in blind panic, distressed to be beating on its own again, but it was only so his shixiong could kiss him gently on the corner of his jaw. It made a tremor run through him, from his feet to the top of his head. Yin Yu must have felt it too, because he smiled at him, ever so slightly. But something didn’t feel right.
“Shixiong, wait…” Quan Yizhen managed, even though every ounce of him wanted to kiss him back as hard as he could. “What about— hating me, but saying it’s fine, being nice when you should have told me how you really felt…” He struggled again to find the words. “I don’t want you to— Do you really—”
“Yizhen, it’s all right,” Yin Yu replied, gently cupping his face with both hands. “I meant it.” And there wasn’t even a ghost of that look – the one like he didn’t mean what he was saying, the one like he wanted to say something else – in Yin Yu’s eyes when he kissed Quan Yizhen this time.
It was a brief kiss, over in a moment, but it left Quan Yizhen stunned and breathless, lips tingling. He stared at his shixiong through a sheen of tears. “So you don’t hate me anymore…?” he choked out, then realized that it was kind of a dumb thing to say, considering.
Yin Yu shook his head with that soft laugh. “Only a little,” he replied, resting his forehead against Quan Yizhen’s. “A normal amount.”
“That’s fine, Shixiong,” Quan Yizhen answered, placing his hands on Yin Yu’s waist, feeling him shiver. “I’ll love you enough to balance it out.”
With a sharp intake of breath, twisting his fingers in Quan Yizhen’s soft curls, Yin Yu muttered, “If you don’t knock it off with the clever comebacks, I might have to kiss you again to shut you up.”
There was the light of a challenge accepted in Quan Yizhen’s eyes. “Okay, Shixiong!”