Work Text:
Xiasi Quan were watchdogs. That was something Nie Huaisang had always known, perhaps for his entire life, something that had been in him for longer than he could even remember. They were a rare breed, local to the area that Huaisang grew up in. They were good for hunting and farming, and were revered as guardians. And, as was the town’s legend, they were said to bring good luck.
Nie Huaisang had never had a dog before. As a small child he’d been a little wary of them, nervous about any dog larger than a shih tzu. When he’d become old enough to no longer have any fear, old enough to want one of his own, both of his parents had passed and his da-ge was working two jobs while going to school so that he could take care of Huaisang.
Nie Mingjue was very good at pretending that they were in no way struggling. He made sure Huaisang got whatever he wanted. But Huaisang knew, he always knew, always noticed, and he saw the toll it took upon his da-ge. And so he knew that adopting a dog was not something even remotely possible for the two of them in their situation. As much as he would have liked to have one, he never brought it up. There were things that were much more important, after all, things they’d never had to worry about before, like food and their apartment’s rent.
It didn’t stop him from wishing, though.
Nie Huaisang made a lot of wishes.
Some of them even seemed to come true, but not always in the way he expected.
-
Nie Huaisang’s earliest memory was when he was just three years old: his da-ge, thirteen and huge for his age, had been given permission to take his didi to the river for the Duanwu Festival. As a tiny child, he’d been much more interested in the bright colors of the dragon boats than much of anything else.
He could remember the boats with full clarity even still.
The boats, and the puppy he’d seen across the river. It was a white and scraggly little thing, watching them from the opposite shore. He’d pointed at it, half nervous about the new little creature and half interested. His da-ge had laughed and explained that it was just a funny looking dog, and then he’d taken Huaisang to get zongzi and paper dogs to throw into the river.
Their parents had told them it was a tradition, a way to ask for protection and to keep evil spirits away. Huaisang hadn’t quite understood what it meant at the time, but even as a small child he was happy enough to play with the pretty paper shapes. He was a little sad to see them go in the river, but his da-ge always made up fun stories about the dogs going to play or fight monsters or find delicious snacks somewhere, and before long Huaisang would be smiling and laughing again.
Every year, their parents would let them go to the river together to release the paper dogs. Sometimes they would buy them at the festival, and sometimes they would make them together at home. Huaisang, too young to hold the scissors, would watch as his da-ge carefully and masterfully cut out the very best dog shapes. He would always let Nie Huaisang decorate them, with paints and markers and glitter and whatever else he wanted to. It wasn’t the standard tradition, but it was traditional for them.
And every year, another unspoken tradition, Huaisang would notice the funny looking white dog across the banks. Mingjue, a teenager with access to his school’s library, had figured out that it was a Xiasi Quan after Huaisang had pestered him enough asking what it was called. Huaisang would always give it a little wave when they saw it. Every year, it watched them with wise looking eyes.
One year, when he was about six, Nie Huaisang had wandered too close to the slippery rocks, and a single bark from the dog startled him back onto solid ground and into his da-ge’s arms. Mingjue had laughed, teasing him about being distracted. But that had just been the first of many strange coincidences with the Xiasi Quan.
When their parents died, Nie Mingjue took extra care to keep up all of their family traditions, especially the festivities around the Duanwu Festival. It had always been a favorite of the two brothers, and Mingjue took great pains to keep things as normal as possible for his didi. He did everything that he could so that Huaisang could have as good of a childhood as possible. And when Huaisang was old enough to understand, he knew the enormity of the burden his da-ge was shouldering to keep him happy and healthy and safe.
He did what he could to help out, though he was still a child himself. He kept things tidy, listened to his da-ge, kept out of trouble. He wished that things would be ok, that he and his da-ge could keep living the life that they had, and that they would be alright. For years, despite their struggles, it was a wish that mostly stayed true.
But Nie Mingjue was twenty-one years old when the family curse got to him. Huaisang hadn’t believed it, when his parents would mention it in hushed and concerned voices. He’d thought it was another myth, another legend. Just a tradition to scare him into being good and doing his chores or his practices. But seeing it happen to his brother, right before his very eyes was unnerving and terrifying.
It was a full Qi Deviation, just like their parents had described. But it had come with no warning, and it had been so much worse than Huaisang’s nightmares had led him to believe. Nie Mingjue’s eyes had gone red, and he was consumed by a rage the likes of which Huaisang had never seen before. He yelled, attacking anything within reach, nearly completely deaf to Huaisang’s cries and pleas and worry. Huaisang had only just managed to get out of the way. Mingjue had hesitated when he looked at him, and that small moment had given him just enough time to hide. His da-ge took most of the damage out on himself, instead of Huaisang or their apartment. With a final scream, hoarse and wrecked, he fainted.
From that point forward, as Huaisang cradled his da-ge’s head in his lap once Mingjue had succumbed to his rage and exhaustion, he vowed to himself that he would do anything to help and to end the curse. He made another wish, to whoever was listening, that he could save his da-ge.
-
In the morning, Mingjue was gone with nothing more than a note on their kitchen table saying that he would be back soon. Huaisang had worked himself up into an anxious frenzy by the time he came home much later that evening.
“Da-ge!” he cried, throwing himself at Nie Mingjue, who always caught him no matter what. He scooped Huaisang up easily, Huaisang being small for an eleven-year-old and Mingjue always being so strong. Huaisang blinked back tears at the thought that they might not have that for very much longer, if the Qi Deviations kept up. But Mingjue seemed much more like himself than he had after he’d regained consciousness the night before, and it took a weight off of Huaisang’s heart.
“Are you alright? Where did you go?” Huaisang blurted, asking frantic questions and looking over his da-ge for damage. “What’s going on? Can we-”
“It’ll be ok,” Mingjue said soothingly. “Didi,” he took a breath, holding Huaisang by the shoulders and looking at him seriously. “I found Baoshan Sanren, from the legends. I’ve made a deal with her for a wish. It’ll fix this.”
“What kind of a deal?” Huaisang asked suspiciously, but the hope soared in his chest. Huaisang almost hadn’t believed the legendary Baoshan Sanren was real, but if Mingjue had truly found her…if anyone could fix this, it would be her.
Nie Mingjue held up a small folded paper. “We just need to keep bringing the paper dogs to the river, just like we always do. But we have to make special kinds, now, for specific protection and keeping the curse’s evil away. Different dogs can bring different kinds of gifts.”
Huaisang nodded, taking in the information. It made enough sense, he supposed, with everything else in the legends he already understood. “And your wish?”
“I’m to write a wish on the back of every dog, and if we bring them to the river for ten years, then my wish will come true.”
Ten years seemed so long, but Huaisang, being eleven and desperate for any shred of hope that he could cling to, hadn’t questioned it. It was ten more years with his da-ge, after all. Mingjue had explained the different breeds of dogs Baoshan Sanren had recommended, taking Huaisang to the library over the next few days so that he could devour books upon books about dogs. Different breeds would bring different qualities that could all add up to complete Nie Mingjue’s one single wish.
Every year before the festival, Nie Mingjue would spend weeks meticulously cutting out paper dogs according to Baoshan Sanren’s instructions. And every year, Nie Huaisang would happily help decorate them, just like they always had done.
Mingjue would pick different dogs from the list he’d been given based on the parts of the wish he wanted most to focus on, or to ward off a more recent symptom. Huaisang took care to memorize each of the dogs, each of their powers and properties and characteristics. He decorated them with even more diligence than he ever had, in case that helped his da-ge’s wishes be seen and granted at all.
They made Chow Chows for protection and ability to work, keeping his da-ge safe and functional. Shih Tzus for calmness and adaptability, keeping his da-ge’s rage under control and not as easily set off. Formosan Mountain Dogs for fearlessness, keeping Nie Mingjue from his worries. Dog after dog after dog. Every year, there would be more.
A Pug for peacefulness and intuition. A Chinese Crested for intelligence and sensitivity. A Laizhou Hong, for hardiness and family strength. And, as always, a Xiasi Quan for luck.
And every year, it seemed, that strange white dog would be watching them. Only now, it sat on their side of the river bank, staring at them with a curious tilt to its head, watching their every move as if it was cataloguing every breed of dog they were releasing into the river. Mingjue would always give it a nod of acknowledgement, which Huaisang found funny, especially since the dog seemed to be actually more interested in Huaisang than him each year. Probably because of the snacks Huaisang always kept in his pockets.
Nie Huaisang figured it couldn’t have truly been the same dog all these years, no matter how much he and his da-ge liked to pretend or how he wished to believe that it was. Dogs just didn’t live as long as people, and there was probably a whole family of stray Xiasi Quan in the area. He’d mentioned it to Mingjue, once, but he’d just hummed in agreement and curiosity, and Huaisang didn’t have the heart to try to logically argue it out with him.
And as the years went on, Huaisang found himself drawn more and more to the dog at the festival. There were times throughout the rest of the year that he would have sworn he caught a glimpse of it too. He’d read so much about so many types of dogs by now, and so it made him wonder more and more about this specific dog, or family of dogs. The Xiasi Quan just seemed too…smart. Too human-like. Mingjue had laughed when Huaisang said as much, ruffling his hair in a way Huaisang always pretended to hate but they both knew that he secretly loved.
But it was hard to spare many thoughts for the Xiasi Quan, as every year Nie Mingjue’s condition seemed to worsen. Huaisang was increasingly anxious about it, but his da-ge reassured him that things would likely get worse before they got better, and that his wish would be granted at the ten year mark and not along the way. Huaisang privately thought it was a pretty bad deal, the fact that his brother would have to suffer as the final year edged closer and closer. But a wish was a wish, and if this was what it took to save his da-ge, he wouldn’t question it.
-
And then, finally, it was the tenth year. Nie Mingjue, now thirty-one, started his dog crafting even earlier, months spent on dogs instead of weeks, and Huaisang took special care to paint them as perfectly as possible. He felt like a weight was being lifted from his shoulders; his da-ge was so close to being better and being himself again.
Mingjue, though, seemed almost melancholy. Drawn into his thoughts more. Worried. Huaisang had teased him that they could continue making dogs long after the wish was granted, hoping to bring him a bit of joy by acting like all of this was just because they had a special tradition. Mingjue had only given him a small smile at that. But Huaisang figured he was just exhausted, as things were expected to get worse the closer he got to the tenth year mark, after all. Every year, Qi Deviations got worse. Most of their family hadn’t made it past forty, a fact which Huaisang had been horrified to learn.
The next morning, though, it was time. Huaisang and Mingjue walked to the river with their basket of dogs just like always. Huaisang stood to the side, watching as Mingjue placed them into the river one by one, silently repeating his wish with a bow for each paper dog. The Xiasi Quan was watching them from Mingjue’s other side, mere rocks away, with its intelligent gaze resting on Nie Huaisang. He gave it a little wave, and held his breath as he watched his da-ge, wondering if he’d be able to see anything happen when the wish came true.
Before he could finish, Mingjue let out a horrible gasping sound, his body folding in half as another Qi Deviation hit him. In that split second, Huaisang could tell that it was bad. Perhaps worse than any he’d ever had before. Mingjue’s eyes were red, bleeding now. He yelled in rage, not seeing or hearing Huaisang, not seeing or hearing anything.
Huaisang was grateful they were alone, but terrified. He scrambled forward, reaching for the basket his da-ge had dropped. Maybe he could finish releasing the dogs, and the wish would end this. But he’d gotten too close, and Nie Mingjue lunged for him.
“Da-ge, wait!” Huaisang cried out, flinching away, when a solid thud sounded just beside him. The dog, the Xiasi Quan who’d always stood by them, had thrown itself at Nie Mingjue, blocking him from making contact with Huaisang. The dog yelped as they grappled, rolling on the ground.
It gave him time, however brief.
Nie Huaisang frantically released the rest of the dogs into the river, shaking out the basket. He didn’t have time to bow for each one. He didn’t know the wording of the wish to recite in his head. But the paper dogs were in the river, and he hoped it would be enough. Hoped that Mingjue had put enough of his wish into the dogs as he made them, and that he was close enough to the river that it would help him.
One of the paper dogs, a Chinese Chongqing for faith, flipped over in the wind of Huaisang’s frantic basket tipping. And the words on the back stood out to him in jet black ink on the bright white background.
Protect my brother. Don’t let him be cursed.
“No,” Nie Huaisang said, heart stopping, falling in his chest. He grabbed at whatever paper dogs that he could still reach, the warm water splashing at his wrists and ankles as Mingjue and the Xiasi Quan fought behind him. He could barely hear them over the rushing in his ears, the numbness in his brain. The paper dogs slid through his fingers, wet and tearing. Each one saying the same words, over and over.
A Lhasa Apso: Protect my brother, keep him safe. A Tibetan Terrier: Protect my brother, bring him luck. A Shaanxi Xian Hound: Protect my brother, don’t let him be cursed. A Tibetan Mastiff: Protect my brother, keep his will strong. A Sharpei: Protect my brother, bring him peace.
Pekingese. Kunming Wolfdogs. Kyi Apsos.
Protect my brother.
Protect my brother.
Protect my brother.
“Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang wailed as he realized what Nie Mingjue had done. His own twenty-first birthday was mere weeks away. He hadn’t even thought about the curse being something he’d inherit as well. This whole time, for ten years, he’d thought he’d been helping his brother. But actually, this whole time…this whole time…
“Da-ge!” he cried again, frustrated and scared, horrified and weak, too many emotions coursing through him all at once. He reached for his brother, still raging and unseeing, and the dog whipped its head around to snarl at him. He jumped back, snatching his hand away.
“Go away!” Huaisang sobbed, tears blurring his vision so much that the Xiasi Quan was nothing but a white blur. “Go away!”
But the dog didn’t listen. It pinned Nie Mingjue to the stony river bank, much stronger than its wiry frame should allow. Nie Mingjue yelled, one final horrible broken sound, and then he went still.
Huaisang screamed, until he saw that his brother was breathing. He fell to his knees on the damp and rocky shore.
The Xiasi Quan stepped off of Mingjue, swaying on its feet.
“G-go away,” Huaisang said again, voice thick. He was consumed by his grief, his worry, his whole world falling apart in front of him.
The dog whined, low and pitiful, and fell to the ground at Huaisang’s knees. Right as it touched the wet rocks, there was a strange whooshing sound. And the dog in front of him changed. Shifted.
The Xiasi Quan at Nie Huaisang’s feet wasn’t a dog at all.
It was a man.
He was slender, and looked tall, with long black hair. His soft linen pants were the same familiar white Huaisang had come to know. The man blinked up at him with eyes that Nie Huaisang knew were the same as the ones he held in his heart. And he was injured, Huaisang realized, as they both panted for breath. His eyes closed in a wince as one hand came up to gingerly cup his bare ribs.
“Nie Huaisang,” he said, voice croaking. “Let me help.”
He wanted to scream. To sob. To demand answers from this dog or this man, to demand answers from his da-ge. His heart was racing in a thousand different directions, all of which hurt. Numbly, he nodded.
“Impossible,” Huaisang whispered, trying to work out how something like this could even happen. “Impossible, you- you’re-”
“Let me help,” the man said again, struggling to his feet. He shuffled towards Nie Mingjue on shaking and limping legs, and Nie Huaisang didn’t dare stop him this time. The man held up his fingers in a peculiar motion, the very tips of them glowing a pale blue, before pressing the light towards his da-ge’s meridians.
“Healing,” the man explained, with a cautious glance over his shoulder, like he was worried Huaisang would yell at him again. “Enough to get him home safely.”
Nie Huaisang didn’t move until the man nodded that he could come over. Mingjue was breathing steadily now; unconscious, but alright. And that was an improvement, and so Huaisang would listen to this man, for now. The man bent down and looped one of Nie Mingjue’s massive arms around his shoulders, staggering under the weight, and Nie Huaisang rushed to help him on his da-ge’s other side.
“Thank you,” he managed. And now that his voice had come back, his mouth moved faster than he could even think. “Sorry, I don’t even know what to call you, and this whole time, I-”
“Wanyin,” the man said. “Jiang Wanyin. That’s what I’m called.”
“You’re…you’re not a dog, then, are you,” Nie Huaisang said more than asked, glancing at him from underneath Mingjue’s arm.
The corner of Jiang Wanyin’s mouth twitched up briefly. “Only sometimes.”
“So-”
“I’ll explain, I promise. But we need to get him home,” Jiang Wanyin said, voice strained from doing most of the lifting. His ribs were already starting to bruise, dark and purple. Huaisang nodded, hefting more of his da-ge’s weight to try to help.
The two of them carried Nie Mingjue home, struggling under the bulk of him and walking side by side in silence except for their labored breaths. They got him settled onto the couch, draped a little haphazardly but still securely enough that he wouldn’t slide off. And then Nie Huaisang’s brain finally started to come back to him.
“Sit!” he said frantically, starting to rush around the apartment to grab supplies for patching up their wounds and drinks for their guest. Jiang Wanyin blinked at him, mouth open in a small shocked gape before sinking down into the armchair by the couch. “Oh,” Nie Huaisang said, realizing what he’d demanded, of a man who was sometimes a dog. He felt ridiculous and crazy all at once. He let out a laugh, unhinged and broken, that turned into another sob. What was he going to do, now that he couldn’t rely on the paper dogs and wishes? What was he going to do?
“Take care of your ge first, I’m fine,” Jiang Wanyin rasped.
Huaisang nodded, fighting back another wave of tears, and gathered up their first aid kit and some wet cloths to clean both Mingjue and Jiang Wanyin’s injuries as the kettle on the stove began to boil. Huaisang patched up his da-ge’s scrapes, feeling a bit of relief at the way Nie Mingjue began to lightly snore. Whatever Jiang Wanyin had done to him had helped quite a bit.
He finished with a tentative squeeze to Mingjue’s hand and then turned to Jiang Wanyin. Jiang Wanyin watched him with huge eyes as Nie Huaisang knelt beside his chair, bringing up a warm cloth to press to his ribs. He winced lightly at the sting, but otherwise his reaction was small. He’d clearly had worse before.
“Thank you,” Huaisang said, quieter this time, finally feeling a bit of calmness washing over him. His brain was still racing; there was a man where there had been a dog, who’d been able to calm his da-ge’s Qi Deviation, and here he was sitting on Nie Huaisang’s chair and looking at him like he was the one baffled and nervous and afraid.
“Is he…will he be…” Nie Huaisang trailed off, unsure of what he really wanted to ask. He was so worried, so afraid, so unsure of where to go from here.
“He will sleep,” Jiang Wanyin answered in a murmur. “Until he is fully healed.”
“How long?” Huaisang looked up at him, caught a little off-guard by the certainty and clarity in Jiang Wanyin’s eyes that softened whenever they met his own.
“Until he is healed,” Jiang Wanyin said again. “It could take days. Weeks, maybe. But he’ll be alright,” he said, sentences short and between stilted breaths from his bruised ribs.
“And…and you?”
The corner of Jiang Wanyin’s mouth tilted up. “I’ll be alright. I’m more concerned with you.”
“Me?” Nie Huaisang’s mouth dropped open. “I’m fine! You saw- you saw at the river, da-ge had another Qi Deviation but I’m-”
Jiang Wanyin shook his head. “Not all worries are for something physical. And not just today. I’m not just concerned for you today.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been watching over you for years,” he admitted. “The magic brought me to you.”
“Magic? This was magic?”
“You saw,” Jiang Wanyin said. “The healing, and the wishes.”
“Oh. So then-” Nie Huaisang cut himself off, trying not to get ahead of himself. “Can you fix him? Save him?”
Jiang Wanyin sighed sympathetically. “I’m sorry, I cannot.”
But,” Nie Huaisang said stubbornly, swallowing a lump in his throat. He pushed his emotions back and tried to state his case. “But he has…he has ten years of wishes, surely that’s enough, they were supposed to fix this, and-”
“He used all ten years of wishes sending them for you,” Jiang Wanyin said, voice serious.
Nie Huaisang bit back another sob. Crying wouldn’t help this.
“But…” Jiang Wanyin trailed off. He sighed. “My healing magic was still able to help him. His wishes brought me to you, but I could still help him. My family, we’re all shifters, and our magics are different, but…but they’re always helpful. They’re always for good. And if anyone deserves good, well…”
“It’s da-ge,” Nie Huaisang nodded. “What should we do?”
“We’ve been studying curses and healing for generations, but I’m not familiar with the specifics of your family curse. Tell me everything you know, and I’ll help as best I can,” Jiang Wanyin promised.
Huaisang nodded, and ran to his room to grab the battered little sketchbook that he’d been keeping track of all the dogs in for years. At the beginning, he’d done it to practice his painting and decoration so that his da-ge’s dogs would be the best in the river. As he got older, he began taking notes as well, the meanings and importances and abilities of each of the dogs, just in case his da-ge needed to remember them, just in case one year he would need more of a certain kind.
He and Jiang Wanyin talked through the dogs as Nie Mingjue snored softly beside them on the couch. Jiang Wanyin made notes of books and scrolls he could bring from his family’s library that could be of use. And together, they began to make research plans.
It became a new routine for them: every night they would sit together, a little closer each time, poring over papers and scrolls and painted bamboo in beautiful scripts. They dug up what information they could, tracing back family histories and roots of magic.
And every day, they would go to the market or the library or the river, and all sorts of dogs would come up to Jiang Wanyin wherever they went, friendly and sniffing and making him smile and laugh in a way that tugged at Huaisang’s heart.
They talked about their family, as Nie Mingjue still remained unconscious. About Huaisang’s parents that were gone too soon. About Jiang Wanyin’s ge who was just as self-sacrificial as Huaisang’s, who almost gave up his magic entirely to save Jiang Wanyin. About Jiang Wanyin’s jie, who struggled with shifting but had some of the strongest healing magic he’d ever seen. About the traditions Nie Huaisang and Mingjue had kept to. About Baoshan Sanren, and whether or not they thought they’d be able to find her.
They took care of the apartment, and Nie Mingjue, and showed each other their favorite spots around town. Huaisang showed him the best snack stalls, the ones his da-ge would treat him to during the festivals. Jiang Wanyin showed him new places Huaisang almost couldn’t believe he’d never seen before, but they were places only a dog could find.
They bought each other meals. Laughed at the jokes from the aunties at the stalls. Teased each other in the lighter moments of the day. They bought each other silly little trinkets that made each other smile. And even distracted as they were, Jiang Wanyin always found a way to offer Huaisang even the smallest bits of protection: pulling him out of the way of a cart, stopping him from taking a bite of something too hot, steering him away from walking into a pothole.
And then Jiang Wanyin bought him a comb, engraved with dogs and flowers and the waves of the river. Nie Huaisang’s heart had never fluttered so fast, when Jiang Wanyin blushed and placed it into his hair.
Huaisang kissed him. He kissed him, and kissed him, warm lips sliding together until they were both smiling too hard to continue. They finished their rest of the time at the market arm in arm or hand in hand, sharing soft smiles.
-
Finally, Nie Mingjue woke up. He sat up, blinking groggily as Huaisang frantically rushed over to him, upending the hand-drawn family tree that was spread across his and Jiang Wanyin’s laps.
“Da-ge!”
“Didi, what-” Mingjue paused, noticing Jiang Wanyin for the first time.
Huaisang glanced between them. “This is…this is Wanyin. The Xiasi Quan,” he explained, poorly, hoping his da-ge would understand.
Jiang Wanyin stood, bringing his hands in front of him to give Nie Mingjue a proper bow.
“...the dog?” Mingjue asked, voice deep and gravelly with disuse. Huaisang nodded. “The dog from the river?”
“Yes,” Jiang Wanyin admitted, opening his mouth to explain further.
“Hmph,” Mingjue grumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. “Alright. Sure. This may as well happen. Does this,” he gestured between them at the pile of books and notes, “have something to do with why I feel like I was hit by a bus?”
“Da-ge, we’re looking for a way to end the curse! Wanyin can do magic, and his family has all sorts of books, and we’ve been researching, and-” Huaisang rambled excitedly, one hand gripping his da-ge’s arm, and the other reaching for Jiang Wanyin.
“I’d like to help in any way that I can. Huaisang and I have been researching, but…” Jiang Wanyin sighed. “We haven’t found much that would actually be helpful. Knowing more about your curse, I’d just like to say that I am sorry. It’s not one my family is familiar with, but I’m sorry that yours is so afflicted.”
Mingjue hummed in response, the corner of his mouth tipping up just a little in a way that Huaisang knew that meant he approved.
“But da-ge, if there’s anything else you can tell us, we could maybe cure you!”
Nie Mingjue shook his head. “You can’t cure me.”
He said it with such finality that Huaisang was suddenly angry. “Why do you keep saying things like that? Why did you tell me you were going to fix it, and then waste all of your wishes?” he demanded.
“The curse has been on our family for generations, Huaisang, you know that. It’s never been cured. I did what I had to do.”
“But you had a wish!” Huaisang snapped. “You could have stopped it, you could have saved yourself, but-”
“I only had ten years to stop it from getting to you as well!” Nie Mingjue interrupted.
Huaisang staggered backwards. He felt Jiang Wanyin put a steadying hand on his shoulder. “I- I haven’t- I haven’t had any of the signs!” he wailed. “None of it, the symptoms, the rage, nothing!”
Nie Mingjue gave him a sad smile. “It doesn’t always show before your twenty-first birthday. I know it barely did for me, and baba said his uncle’s first Qi Deviation was the day after he came of age. You’ve always been small, like him. That’s why I had to make sure.”
“Ten years worth of magic wishes, to keep you safe,” Jiang Wanyin murmured. “It’s very powerful, the spell of protection on you. It’s been building and building for this decade, I have felt it. And now, it’s almost enough.”
“Almost?” Nie Mingjue asked, frowning.
“There’s a ritual that I can do, to seal it,” he explained. “The wishes brought me to you for this,” he said to Huaisang. “If it is not sealed, it will be more of a lessening than a cure. Keeping you safe from symptoms but not the root cause.”
“Please,” Nie Huaisang turned to him, feeling the tears welling up in his eyes. “Please, use it on da-ge instead. I’m fine, I’ll be fine, I can’t- I need him,” he cried.
“No, Huaisang-”
Jiang Wanyin held up a hand with a sympathetic wince. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “It will only work on you. The wishes have always been linked to you, and so the remedy is only attached to you. When my family first saw the paper dogs…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “I volunteered. I remembered you from the festival. For ten years, I’ve been magically sworn to protect you. Huaisang, I will always protect you with everything that I have.”
Nie Mingjue nodded seriously, pleased, while Huaisang’s grief and anger and fear all battled to become his dominant emotion.
“How can you seal it?” Mingjue asked.
“Pure shifters can share some of their power with one other. It shields them from curses and magical ailments that afflict humans,” Jiang Wanyin explained. “Most of the time, they share it with…with the one that they have fallen in love with. My brother, he was adopted, but his family shifted too. Foxes. He shared his when his best friend was about to die. They are zhiji now. Soulmates.”
Jiang Wanyin looked at their clasped hands. “Huaisang. I’ve wanted to do this for you for years,” he said quietly. “Please. Let me save you.”
“No! No, I-”
“We’re running out of time. Huaisang. Didi. Please. Don’t let my efforts be wasted. Please. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you. I promised baba, I-”
Huaisang sobbed, flinging himself at Mingjue. “And what am I supposed to do if anything happens to you?”
Nie Mingjue gave him a watery smile. “We’ll figure it out, yeah? Just like we always do. Let Wanyin break the curse on you so you don’t have to go through this, alright? And then we can keep trying.”
“I’ll keep studying, da-ge,” Huaisang promised. “I’ll find a way to help you.”
“I will too. There hasn’t been a curse my family hasn’t been able to at least help in some way, if not cure. I’ll always keep him safe. Stay with him. Help him. Love him,” Jiang Wanyin added quietly.
Nie Mingjue nodded. “I know you will,” he said. He sounded like he was beginning to believe there was hope for him. And that was all that Huaisang could ask for at this point.
-
They did the ritual a few weeks later.
Jiang Wanyin took both of the brothers further up the river to a secluded cove, where he and his family would cross the river. He explained that all types of magic began in a person’s golden core, and that this ritual would help Huaisang to create his own. Along with Nie Mingjue’s wishes, it would expel all lingering curses from his body.
Nie Huaisang and Jiang Wanyin knelt on the ground facing each other. Jiang Wanyin looped his hand around Huaisang’s wrist and told Huaisang to mirror his grip. He watched as Jiang Wanyin took a deep breath and closed his eyes, centering himself. And then Huaisang saw a small light just beneath his ribcage.
Jiang Wanyin’s core began to glow, golden and strong and growing in his chest. It radiated out around him, shining in the dim light beneath the trees. Tendrils of sparkling gold trailed down his arm, his hand, and wound their way up Huaisang’s. Nie Huaisang gasped at the warmth of it, the feeling unlike anything he’d experienced before.
The gold made its way into his own center, until he felt it within his whole body: a core, golden and glowing.
Jiang Wanyin’s eyes opened, and softened immediately as they fell upon Huaisang. “It worked,” he whispered.
Huaisang felt tears in his eyes, and he flung his arms around Jiang Wanyin. He heard his da-ge let out a shuddering breath, deeply relieved, as he sank to the ground next to them and pulled them both into his arms.
“Thank you,” Mingjue breathed. “Thank you.”
-
-One Year Later-
Huaisang watched as his da-ge knelt beside the river, a mostly plain paper dog in his hand. They’d almost skipped the tradition, having real proof of the protection from the paper dogs living in their apartment and in Huaisang’s bed. But both Nie brothers had always stuck to traditions, and they both found themselves wanting to send out a paper dog. Huaisang had chosen a Xiasi Quan, of course, laughing and making Jiang Wanyin shift and pose for him while he decorated his. Nie Mingjue had deliberated on his choice for days.
“You can still make a wish, you know,” Jiang Wanyin had said to him one night before the festival. “You don’t have to have Baoshan Sanren’s blessing. Someone might take your wish, too.”
Mingjue had only smiled at him, a wry thing, but he cut his dog out all the same. He’d chosen a Tibetan Spaniel. A companion.
And then they had gone to the river.
“Thank you for helping my brother,” Nie Mingjue whispered, bowing on the shore. “Thank you for everything,” he said as he placed the paper dog into the water. “If you have any magic left to spare, I humbly ask for your assistance.” He closed his eyes as he bowed again, pressing his forehead to the back of his hands.
Jiang Wanyin slid his arm around Huaisang’s waist and they silently watched the paper dogs drift out into the river. And then he let out a small huff of a laugh. Huaisang followed his line of sight, and saw a small fluffy dog watching them from across the river. It looked at Jiang Wanyin, tilted its head, and then focused its attention on Nie Mingjue.
Mingjue raised up from his bow and startled as he met the dog’s steady gaze. The little dog tilted its head again, watching them carefully. It seemed, in Huaisang’s now-expert opinion, a bit too clever. A bit too smart. A bit too human-like.
“A friend of yours?” Mingjue asked, mostly joking, but not looking away from the small dog.
“Yeah,” Jiang Wanyin said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, that’s... You know what. I’ll let you figure that out on your own. She’s the best, though. You treat her right, ok?”
Nie Mingjue blinked up at him from where he still knelt on the riverbank, half shocked. Huaisang laughed. Things felt right. Things finally felt right, and wishes came true. Xiasi Quan were watchdogs, after all, bringing luck wherever they went.