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Warning(s): G, none
There was an earlier time when Rèn was a new arrival in Xianzhou Luofu. He’s young, he’s ambitious, but he’s human. Already in his early 20s among a pantheon of greats and ordinary people who will live for centuries compared to him. But, he’s not without his ambition. Though his short life as a human seems so transient to them, how brightly they can burn; a candle compared to a star. Rèn finds menial work in a forgery and learns quickly, his master impressed at this young outlander.
He’s bright, introverted, and learns quickly. Rèn takes the techniques he’s taught and adapts them, improving and streamlining them until he fabricates his own means of production. Though quiet and unassuming, his master notes a unique intensity Rèn has while he works.
Then, you have Jǐng Yuán. Smart, extroverted, and charismatic, he’s popular among the Cloud Knights. But, it’s not all talk; when he speaks to his juniors, it’s obvious he cares and is invested in them. He spars to help improve their combat techniques and is willing to spend a little extra time grasping esoteric concepts. He’s a teacher, he’s a friend, and word of a promising young outlander smithy catches his eye. At first, his interest is casual. Jǐng Yuán passes Rèn and his master’s forgery en route to his lunches.
Passing by develops into Jǐng Yuán casually hanging around the smithy, commissioning them to repair little trinkets of his. Nothing great and grand, but Rèn takes notice of Jǐng Yuán’s interest. Except, he’s not opportunistic.
Rèn is solely invested in the artistry of his work, uncaring to be enterprising and make exorbitant credits with what he does. Jǐng Yuán sees this and notes Rèn’s sincerity, offering to take him out to talk commissions. It doesn’t stay formal for long.
Their lunches become dinners, drinking late into the night. Steadily, familiar faces of the High Cloud Quartet join them. Jìng Liú, Bái Héng, and Dān Féng. Jǐng Yuán spoke and Rèn listened; he never forced Rèn to speak, but when he did, the sincerity for his art was clear in his exchanges with Jǐng Yuán and the others. Rèn remembered, and he cared despite how introverted he seemed. He was conscientious and paid attention to detail.
Jǐng Yuán thought Rèn reminded him of his stoic master, learning to understand Rèn through his lifetime spent under the Sword Master’s wing. He understood the listeners, but when they spoke, he paid attention. But by bit, little by little, Rèn became part of their group. He repaired their trinkets and forged their weapons until the day came when he created the infamous weapons they wielded. He learned from them, and became part of them until the Quartet became the Quintet. He learned from them, and fought with them, an irreversibly precious part of their group. Days became weeks became years.
Rèn aged, they didn’t, and Jǐng Yuán felt a sharp pain in his heart at Rèn’s mortality. He was growing older, but they stayed the same. Maybe it was a foolish wish, but surely his junior could last a little longer. That their warm night and eventful days would last forever.
It was a foolish, childish wish but… was it? Was Rèn’s transience, his mortality, forcing Jǐng Yuán to face his days like Rèn did? Aeons, he didn’t know… But maybe, just maybe…
Alright, he’d cherish this moment. He’d hold every second in his heart like it was made of glass. Like flotsam in a stream, he could slow down for Rèn. Yes, for Rèn. Anything for him, but… Aeons, great scions, let these moments linger in his mind forever.