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What was spring for people who had such long lives ?
Yingxing wondered many times how people around him saw the passing days, how nonchalant they were about wasting hours, days and years, as if they were not as doomed as him to one day or another meet their fateful end. How were seasons in the eyes of people who have so much time to bask into their beauty, to lost themselves in endless contemplation in these long-lived bodies, while he felt like the numbers of his ages were passing by without him being able to grasp what even being eighteen, nineteen or twenty would mean ? Since he arrived on one of those ships of the Xianzhou Alliance, his soul felt deep attachment to this place, as if somehow, something in him told him it was where his fate was.
As a young merchant, establishing his own commerce here wasn't that hard, and he soon learned years didn't always mean others would be better than him. Many springs did pass by as he ended up calling this place home, as he grew up accustomed to wandering in the silent streets early in the morning, cool air greeting his then red cheeks, enjoying the scents of fresh-baked buns in the nearest shops.
Spring was longer for him than for most of other people around him, yet it still felt like he couldn't even understand or memorize it. He couldn't remember the scents, the structures of flowers, and his hands bled from tiny wood shards as he abandoned yet another one of his new statuettes. Maybe he was just meant to craft weapons, or utility tools, maybe art wasn't for him as his heart only knew short times and didn't know how to perceive the beauty of things. He was better at fighting and holding a sword than poetry. Yet, he often felt his heart could sing unsung poems, poems without words to tell the heavy and soft feelings in his longing heart. How come a soul could be able of such complicated emotions without any words to tell them ?
What he remembered the best was always the flowery scent of the Vidyadhara elder, this one friend of his master, who seemingly paid much more attention to this cheeky white-haired kid always disturbing their trainings. Jing Yuan was a cute child, he had to admit : younger than him, pretty innocent, as active as a curious teen his age would be, yet already the most skilled student Jing Liu ever had, and the most respectful too. A born warrior, people would say, but deep in his heart, it was clear to Yingxing he was too soft-hearted to ever be some type of killer in the future. He could be a captain, he could be a judge, or a warrior that would never let down his principles, and somewhat, that would also make him weak. A soft heart isn't that great on a battlefield, or when you have to take hard decisions. But what could Yingxing do in front of such a sweet smile ? Oh, he could only wish Jing Yuan would always stay this way.
He understood why people ended up paying more attention to the young disciple than him, an outsider from the Xianzhou. He was already lucky to be able to learn how to wield a sword next to someone like Jing Liu, to observe this witty sword woman who seemed like the most invincible thing on this ship. Maybe the world could fall, but his master wouldn't, as she was probably the might of the Hunt in person.
He didn't remember spring once the season passed by, but he always remembered the lonely figure of his master, her long clear hair in the calm wind, cherry blossoms, white lilies and blood becoming accessories of her strong yet small figure. He also always remembered there were other lonesome figures, the pretty fox lady and the Vidyadhara, sharing this little something in their eyes someone like Yingxing couldn't comprehend. As spring would come, training outside would become more regular than in the winter, Jing Liu would make him fight again and again until his legs couldn't support his own body, and he would have to witness the little jumping figure of Jing Yuan, that would obviously still be adamant to stand longer than anyone else.
Spring reminded him he was now only the second-best disciple. And the faint smile of the Vidyadhara elder would appear looking at the child, his gaze softening as the teenager would then run to him to ask him how good he did. Spring like this would make his heart hurt a little for some reasons. Was it because he felt weak ? Did he want to be better than his benjamin ? Or was it that he secretly yearned for this gaze from someone that wasn't his master ? The scent following the dark haired man with clear blue horns was engraved in his mind. How come someone would smell so sweet, how come his smooth skin would carry such fragrances, as if those slender hands were not meant to wield some deadly weapons to fight for the Alliance ? The metallic and earthy smell of blood didn't seem to follow him, he would only look like a cold spring, with calm and soft demeanor when he petted Jing Yuan's messy hair, like you would do to pet a tiny little bird.
Yingxing did talk to the Vidyadhara though, his master's friend did sometimes sit next to him, giving him cups of tea with elegant moves as the younger didn't seem to be able to silent the loud beatings of his heratic heart. He tried to talk to him, asking about who he was, what he liked, where did he come from, why did he start to follow Jing Liu's lessons... But his words would tangle in his mind, block in his throat, and it seemed he was only able to be a nervous mess when the beautiful stranger would invade his space.
He had the time to learn from his master about the Imbibitor Lunae, this title that would be given to only a special Vidyadhara elder, how he was as skilled to kill than to heal...
''Such soft hands should only be meant to heal though'', often thought Yingxing absently, his gaze lost in the void as he stirred the tea in his small cup.
He did feel many times the warrior's skings on his as their fingers brushed, and nothing could tell him how could a killer have something this fragile. He was shorter than him, with a lean body, outfits would often seem like they floated around his body... How could he possibly be stronger than him with such a figure ? But then, his gaze would fall on his small master, and he would bend his head in a silent apology, chasing this thought from his head. All the strongest warrior didn't exactly look like they could be that strong.
And all the strong warriors on this ship were creatures from here, prisonners or blessed to live long lives. Yingxing didn't think much about this... Would it be better to live centuries, or to have such a short life-span like he had ? How was life in the light colored eyes of a man whose existence was a gift from a now long-deceased God ?
Maybe it was youth, the Vidyadhara approached with curiosity, letting himself enjoy the presence of a cheerful kid like Jing Yuan. He seeked for the sunlight, something that would feel new, not something plain and gloomy like Yingxing who was already an adult.
Or perhaps it was that this man preferred the company of someone like himself, someone who had gone through an eternity of hardships by his side, like Jing Liu. The future certainly still had thousands of battles in store for them, as many confrontations as there were stars... And Yingxing could see their frail figures amidst the dust and blood, unshakeable, eternal. He could never be there for that long. His life would evaporate in a few decades at best, if it wasn't for a battlefield that would end up being his tomb.
He would never be more than a craftsman, a tradesman who had learned to fight from an immortal. He was just an infinitely insignificant existence who had been lucky enough to find a place with someone whose name would live on in the memories of an entire Alliance for thousands of years after his death. And probably to a dragon, he was all the more ignorable for being only a fragile second in his existence, a petal in the corollas of flowers made up of Jing Liu's apprentices.
Did dragons love as humans loved ? Did someone like this elder Vidyadhara know what these things were in the heart of existences like his ? What kind of beauty was represented by a passive love like the secret passion he had secretly carried in his heart since the first time he had crossed paths with this existence that had nothing to do with his own ?
Yingxing could only keep his lips sealed, only envy the existences around him that got the looks and the faint, wise smiles from the silent figure of the Imbibitor Lunae. What would he gain by speaking out, by declaring himself, by seeking to maintain the tempo of his frantic heartbeat by doing everything in his power to be just a grain of sand in another man's existence ?
Yet the cups of tea under the full moon had continued. It was only because Jing Liu was away, only because Jing Yuan had gone to sleep after a tiring day. What could be found for a craftsman like him whose life was so fragile ?
In his workshop, he sometimes saw the dragon's clear eyes studying his work. He never spoke, never commented, his lips were closed. It was as if he was only ever there to pass the time, to mock his nervous movements as he struggled to concentrate on his work. And as he left, he just lifted his face towards him, his lips curling into an enigmatic smile, before disappearing as he had come into the arms of the mysterious Foxian warrior.
Of course, he had to love her, this warrior.
He rarely saw her, only knew her to be close to Jing Liu, a prestigious fighter who had already seen many horrors. She had sharp eyes, her movements were precise and quick, and everything about her posture exuded a certain charisma that he couldn't imitate. He always ended up sticking out his chest uncomfortably as soon as he saw her in the street or in the courtyard during Jing Liu's lessons, as a sort of manner to prove he wasn't that pebble-like next to such a figure. Perhaps it was her charisma that appealed so much to the Vidyadhara. What was charisma to begin with, and how could he get the formula ?
Spring meant things even for the long-lived creatures on the ships of the Xianzhou Alliance. But he didn't give it the same meaning.
He couldn't see back the flowers in his mind once they were gone, he couldn't smell the fragrant odours in all the streets that no mechanical creations could cover, he couldn't even remember the silhouette of the cherry blossom trees in the courtyard where he trained with Jing Yuan. All he could see, all he could remember, was the tender gaze of a man with youthful features, his slender fingers picking a fragile pink flower as they fell. He could only remember his heart falling with it, sinking between his palms, lodged in the hollow of his hands, as if it had been taken prisoner.
And the man who had stolen his heart in the spring was only looking at the others.
He wanted to possess the pink of his pale cheeks only for himself, to be the only one who knew his smiles, to be the only one close enough to count every one of his eyelashes. He didn't want of this existence of only knowing him as a warrior and his master's friend. He didn't want him to continue tormenting him, only petting Jing Yuan's head, only having endless discussions with Jing Liu, only hanging out with any Foxian lady.
He sighed.
Someone sighed just next to him.
He turned his attention away from the deformed blade, his thoughts drawn from their infernal spiral around the jealousy that was digging into his heart. So he was lost in thought... And the weapon he was supposed to be forging had suffered the ravages of his mind. A brief apology for the object had crossed the craftsman's mind, as his gaze caught the figure sitting silently opposite.
Yingxing was stunned, shocked and confused by the apparition before his eyes.
Yes, the person he had been coveting had come several times, but he had never stood and watched him work like this. And he had just made the most shameful demonstration of his career before her clear eyes.
"Yinyue Jun, excuse me, I- I didn't see you and I...."
The Vidyadhara's peaceful expression had turned into a mutinous smile, a curious gleam dancing in his clear eyes. It was not an expression he was familiar with. And Yingxing couldn't help wondering: was this the kind of expression he was offering this Foxian woman? It wasn't the expression he used when facing Jing Yuan, nor one he'd seen when spying on her between two sliding doors during his talks with Jing Liu. What on earth did it mean?
"I'm afraid your daydreams have ruined your work on this blade," the dragon had noted in a gentle, measured but teasing tone.
The craftsman remained silent and motionless for a few seconds, his gaze then shifting to the dented blade in his hand. Then a furious flush of red rose to his cheeks, causing him to bite the inside of his cheek, as if to chase away the strange heat climbing up his face.
"Don't be embarrassed, everyone gets lost in thought sometimes. Please, let me see your hands, I'm afraid you've hurt yourself," the warrior continued, holding out his own hands to take hers.
Unable to refuse, not wanting to be seen to have any misplaced pride, and already embarrassed at having been caught thinking about someone he couldn't reach, Yingxing complied. It would appear that he had burnt himself slightly. But how? Didn't he know? But the Imbibitor Lunae's cold skin against his own only stopped him thinking about it, his eyes following the gestures of his mistress's friend's free hand, and the bluish orb forming under his expert fingers. He had never seen the Vidyadhara use his healing spells before his eyes, and now he was using them on himself.
Very quickly, the magical energy concentrated around his mortified skin, numbing his senses there, the redness fading, the blisters slowly disappearing. So why was he wasting his energy looking after someone like him? He couldn't help it, deep down, and he glanced towards the workshop exit and the windows, looking for the silhouette of anyone close to the dragon. No Foxian woman, no Jing Liu, no gremlin in the guise of Jing Yuan. It was strange.
His eyes traced back to the fine features of the Vidyadhara's face, its concentrated expression, and the brief glow escaping from its irises. It was a water spell, one of his specialities.
"Imbibitor Lunae, may I ask you..?”
The questionned had raised his head towards him, the blue orb of magical energy returning under his fingers, leaving in its wake his hand without a trace of injury.
"What did you want to ask me?"
It wasn't usual for him to come here alone, and certainly not just to watch what he was doing. Was it about Jing Liu? Did he have to give her a message? If so, he'd have been better off looking for Jing Yuan, he wasn't a carrier pigeon. Or perhaps it was that he wanted him to polish his weapon... Yet, even if the probabilities pointed in his mind only to unpleasant scenarios, he had a hint of hope that the reasons might be something else.
"I wanted to know why you came. What brings you to my workshop? Did you need something?
- Yes, I needed something. To tell the truth, it was I who had something to ask you, Yingxing."
He who had something to ask him ? Had he remembered her first name ? No, it wasn't a big deal to remember his first name, he was Jing Liu's second best disciple after all. Even if Jing Yuan was the most gifted, he still stood out as much because wielding a sword was not his first profession as because he was one of the few short-lived creatures on board the ship. So why did he always feel touched by this kind of detail, by a little thing like at least having a name and a face that the dragon could recognise?
"I wanted to ask you if you were taking on apprentices at the forge," the Vidyadhara had said.
Once again, Yingxing wore a confused expression. Apprentices ? He didn't even think he was that good at his art. He had provided weapons for several Xianzhou Alliance warriors between his arrival and this moment, but never to the point where he felt he was particularly good. And who did he want to offer her as an apprentice? He didn't seem to have seen the Imbibitor Lunae have apprentices.
"For... your apprentices ? I- I'm afraid I don't deserve that honour Imbibitor Lunae, I'm certainly not the best craftsman in Luofu, and I have no idea how to teach anyone, I-"
He had bitten the inside of his cheek again to force himself not to humiliate himself further, feeling inevitably ashamed at his interlocutor's expression of displeasure. He had disappointed him. He was bound to disappoint him.
"Don't put yourself down like that. I wanted to learn from you," Yinyue Jun had finally said, insisting on the "I".
Him ? An Imbibitor Lunae, learning from him ? Why would he want to learn how to make tools or weapons ? It wasn't noble enough work for his position. What he was, who he was, was far more than he would ever be. More than just prestigious titles, Yinyue Jun also carried heavy responsibilities and immense power. He had come to terms with the fact that he didn't belong by his side, which is why he was content to watch from a distance and not try to interfere in his life... All he did was stare, be jealous and eavesdrop. Nothing much, in short.
"Become my apprentice ?
- That's right, Yingxing. I think you are the best in your art of the Alliance, and I wish to learn from you before you become so popular that you no longer have time for me."
'I'll always have time for you,' the craftsman had retorted in his mind, certain to be delirious. He had definitely been caught up in his delusions. Perhaps it was the products in the creams he'd bought from that chemist in the street that were making him see and hear things. Every spring, she would hand out these famous remedies that helped to make the sickness disappear, made from flowers that could only remind him of one person... And now, it made him delirous to the point of hearing him ask for lessons from him about crafting utility tools and weapons.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, I was just.., Yinyue Jun seemed a little more nervous suddenly, rosy tints on his snow-like cheeks, I've been talking with my friends for age. I wanted to learn how to craft from you since Jing Liu told me about your talents, but I was too shy to ask sooner. It may sound ridiculous, but I do really admire your skills.”
He was definitely delirious.
Slapping his own cheeks, startling the dragon in front of him, he then contemplated his own hand. His cheek was hurting. But he couldn't wake up.
“Yingxing ? Why did you hurt yourself ? What's wrong ?”
Feeling a cold hand on his cheek, his heart skipped a beat, his eyes meetings those of the petite man in front of him. His brows were furrowed as he gently petted the bruised skin, small threads of blue magic caressing his face. He then retreated, shaking his head in disaprobation. Maybe it was that he was about to let go of his idea of becoming his apprentice if it meant he would do things like that, and the sudden idea pushed Yingxing to let him hear his voice once more.
“I'll take you as my apprentice.”
Surprise painted Yinyue Jun's face, and his expression then softened again. He seemed genuinely happy, pink lips arboring a tender smile. He didn't know what could make him look at him like that, or where did this look came from, as he added :
“I'll adapt my schedule to your liking Imbibitor Lunae, it's a great honour to be able to have your presence here and I-
- Dan Feng.
- What ?
- Call me Dan Feng. I like it better, if you think of me as a friend. I have no desire to approach you as someone with any social importance, please only see me for what I am behind closed door. I don't want to be your master's friend, or an elder dragon you should bow to. I am nothing but a friend asking for your teaching, Yingxing.”
He never felt strongly about his own name, but he liked it from his lips, he liked it pronounced with his voice, to the point he felt he wanted it to be only sealed in his mouth. He could only want to hear his own name from him, as he felt like it was a blessing disguised in sounds that had only meanings if it was from him. What had happened to himself ? Maybe he was now far lost into a passion that only meant something to his heart.
In front of him, Yinyue Jun was once again back to his usual calm demeanor. It was as if he was somewhat unchanging, always managing well the way he acted, looking at him in a way he couldn't describe as anything but “neutral”. Neutral like mysterious, unreadable, like the calmness of the moonlight shining on the full moon. And he picked from his pocket a small flower, intact, with all it's petals, pink hues on it, standing in the palm of his hands to hand it out to him.
“I know spring is important to you, and I wanted to give it to you.”
Yingxing took delicately the flower, dumb-founded when Dan Feng grinned like a sly fox, escaping from his workshop without any other word.
And maybe it was spring meant something to the object of his passion too, because he saw the season as something that meant his name.