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“What if I told you that… this life, everything, us, it has all already happened.”
Zhou Zishu raised an eyebrow, looking quizzically in Prince Nan’ning’s direction.
“What do you mean, my Prince?” He asked, before taking a sip from his wine cup. The two of them were at the Nan’ning Palace, drinking together after having spent a long day planning and preparing things.
“I mean that this is the second time that this life, these events, us, are happening. I have already been Jing Beiyuan, you’ve already been Zhou Zishu, and… and the rest. But there are changes, things and events that make things different. Some people who weren’t there before are here, now, and vice-versa.”
Zhou Zishu was accustomed to the Prince’s tendency to speak what he thought to be mostly nonsense, convoluted explanations, stories and theories that seemed to lead nowhere; or aimed at a point that could have been reached in many less words. He suspected that this time, alcohol had only worsened his case.
He chuckled. “Did the Prince dream of being free of some people?”
Qi Ye smiled. “Maybe I did, maybe I did. That little poisonous boy has been acting up again—how nice would it be, a version of this life spent away from him…”
Zhou Zishu discretely rolled his eyes. “Sure.” He drank again. Qi Ye clicked his tongue before refilling his cup.
“More seriously, Zishu. I am curious. Think about some details—if this life was just a bit different, what would you want to see changed? Whom would you like to get rid of?”
“That can’t be a real question, my Prince.” Zishu couldn’t contain a wide smile from stretching his features. Wasn’t their whole life currently about getting rid of some people? Qi Ye huffed, then answered: “You know what I mean.”
“I’m not sure I do, my Prince!”
“Bold of you to tease a nobleman like that, Zishu.” Although he was scowling a bit, it was clear enough that Qi Ye didn’t mean his threat. “Make an effort. Entertain me.”
Zishu refilled his cup, pensive. Today had been yet another day of juggling between important work and one exhausting, relentless source of distraction. His chest felt a little warm as he took a sip from his wine, before gently putting it down and answering: “If, in this other life, similar but different, Jiuxiao had never made his way to the Capital, my work would certainly have been made easier.”
Qi Ye took a moment before he raised his hand, saying: “Ah, my bad.”
“I didn’t mean it this way, my Prince—” Zishu hurriedly said.
“I know, I know. I didn’t expect him to be such a handful.” Qi Ye then patted Zishu’s arm. “Quite an… airhead that you got yourself there. I wouldn’t have guessed.”
Zishu simply hummed as a response. He thought a bit of other alternatives. He’d so far always worked towards his goals, worked to have this grip on himself and others so that everything would always go according to plan. This life he currently had—
It felt like his own, felt like the exact result of every one of his calculations; even the unplanned, even the surprises, he would always end up taking back control. What exactly could he want changed, or different?
He thought for a bit longer. “The Prince will forgive my lack of imagination, but I can’t think of anything I would otherwise want to be different.”
Qi Ye slowly nodded. “Well, that’s good. That’s good. You wouldn’t want to live longing for something that isn’t, would you.”
They kept drinking for a while, discussing some more; about people from the palace, about gossip, about new possibilities for their future actions. After some time, Zishu rose up, saluting the Prince, and got ready to leave. Before he could make his way towards the door, Qi Ye said:
“About what I said, regarding the Shamanet. He does annoy me.”
Zishu turned around, perplexed.
“But I’d rather he’s here. I think. You know how, sometimes… Ah, forget it. Zishu! I am drunk.” Qi Ye said, a bit theatrically, waving his hand around. “Drunk and exhausted. Enjoy the rest of your night, Zishu, and I will see you tomorrow.” He said with a smile.
Zishu nodded, clasped his hands together once again before heading out.
I’d rather he’s here. Zishu sighed as he silently made his way back towards his own quarters. The streets were empty, and the midnight sky cast a faint light upon the roofs of the capital. As Zishu approached the rug shop, he saw a dark silhouette sitting by the back door, curled on itself.
“Jiuxiao?” He asked.
Had Jiuxiao been a dog, Zishu would probably have seen his ears perk up before he raised his head, his eyes tired but bright as he looked at Zishu. “Shixiong!” He said, promptly springing up.
“What are you doing here?”
“Shixiong—” Jiuxiao started, straining the word, adding melody to it. “I’m sorry for today.”
“Today?”
“And yesterday. And before that.” Jiuxiao’s lips were stretched in a wide, crooked grin, his brows apologetically furrowing up. “Shixiooong—” He continued, gripping Zishu’s arm and shaking it a bit as he was moving to open the door.
“You’d think by now I’d be hopeless about you.” Zishu grunted as he entered the shop, Jiuxiao behind him.
“And yet you still chase me around; I’ll make efforts, shixiong, I promise—it’s just the capital, you know, I can’t help it.”
Zishu rolled his eyes. “What about the capital?”
Jiuxiao shuffled in front of him. “It’s too exciting! Too much is happening, and I guess… I lose myself a little.” His grin widened still.
After a beat, Zishu shook his head and moved past him, quickly slapping Jiuxiao’s skull before continuing ahead towards his quarters. “Stupid shidi.”
Jiuxiao followed.
“Would you rather I leave?” Jiuxiao asked, as Zishu took of his coat.
“My house?”
“The capital.”
“Of course I would.” Is what Zishu planned to say, snickering in annoyance, because Jiuxiao was so dumb, because he kept creating mess, because he was such a distraction.
Is there someone you’d want to get rid of?
But he didn’t say it. He turned to see Jiuxiao’s face. He still had a faint smile, his expression was slightly playful, but there was something—Zishu felt his heart sink just a bit.
Before Jiuxiao’s eyes could take a more serious glow—or before he could deflect, get ideas, Zishu clicked his tongue:
“I’d rather you finally learn some discipline and stop bothering me all day.”
Jiuxiao started whining and protesting and laughing, they pushed each other around, teased each other, Zishu groaned and hit him, until the quiet of the night slowly returned.
Zishu was lying awake in his bed, Jiuxiao slumped on a chair no far from him, sleeping soundly.
Life would be easier without Jiuxiao around—at the capital, at least.
Whatever Zishu felt when considering the possibility of Jiuxiao never even entering his life was enough for him to stop thinking about that.
What would you want to see changed? Different?
He’d always been one to consider many possibilities—many variations, different options to each situations, and all realistic outcomes for every choice he was faced with, and he always chose what made the most sense, what was the most advantageous, the most profitable.
Qi Ye talked about this other life. This life that he wasn’t living, this life where some things were different.
There were options he considered, and options he dismissed immediately, because there was no point in even contemplating them.
He reluctantly let his glance fall upon Jiuxiao. His body was skewed in a way that would probably leave him in pain the next day. His jaw was slack, and saliva started pooling behind his lower lip. He both looked like a silly child or a dumb teenager, but adult-sized and slightly overgrown.
Zishu got up from his bed, approached to move Jiuxiao around so he’d sit more comfortably. He pushed his jaw up, but it fell back open immediately. His fingers were a bit wet from saliva, and he grunted, using Jiuxiao’s own sleeve to wipe his chin and Zishu’s own fingers.
A life that wasn’t this one, where that other Zishu would make different decisions—decisions that could be contemplated, that wouldn’t affect this life—because they’re different lives, anyway.
He looked at Jiuxiao sleeping, but closed his eyes before it became too much. Dismissing any of those options was necessary as to not feel like that most of the time; warm, vibrating, frustrated.
He supported himself on the armrests, next to Jiuxiao’s hands. His eyes still closed, feeling Jiuxiao’s warmth close to him, he thought of that other Zishu who, in that different life, perhaps, let himself consider.
That Zishu could have bent forward just a little more, until he felt Jiuxiao’s breath against his lips. He’d know that maybe this wouldn’t be the best option, but again—did Zishu even need to care about that other life, about those consequences?
Before he could have tried anything, before he could have tentatively licked Jiuxiao’s bottom lip, maybe, Jiuxiao would have woken up. “Shixiong?” He’d ask, his fingers gently grazing Zishu’s hands, before wrapping around his wrists.
“What’s going on? Can’t sleep?” He’d smile, his voice a whisper against Zishu’s mouth, before he’d nudge forward and put his lips on Zishu’s. They’d be soft, probably, and a bit wet. Zishu would tighten his grip on the armrest as Jiuxiao’s hand would cup his cheek, angling his face to deepen the kiss, dip his tongue—
Zishu shuddered and hurriedly scrambled backwards, his feet light and silent on the wooden floor, but his moves a bit jagged. His face was burning up, and his heart was beating from shame and embarassment. He cursed inwardly, cursed that other Zishu’s decision, cursed the Prince’s question—cursed Jiuxiao, just a bit, for being there, for being like this. Cursed those feelings that should have disappeared a long time ago.
He went to the inner courtyard to cool down. He paced around a little before sitting down on the cold stone, watching the autumn-yellow plum trees.
So many times, Zishu—that other Zishu, had considered, had had the option. The opportunity to contemplate rather than having to dismiss. Maybe.
He thought of the peach orchard of Siji mountain, of carrying a young Jiuxiao on his shoulders for him to pluck a fruit. The mid-spring breeze lifting their robes, carrying pink petals along with it, Jiuxiao marvelling at the possibility of one day travelling across Jianghu together.
Maybe that Zishu wouldn’t even be here, in the capital. Maybe he’d have given that up, chosen another way. Zishu scoffed—that would have been a missed opportunity.
It had been many years since he’d seen the peach blossoms, since they had spent time together in the orchard. He did come back to the manor when New Year celebrations came, every year—but always left just before they bloomed. Jiuxiao had, more than once, complained about that.
That other Zishu stayed, maybe. Had put his priorities elsewhere. Made sure that they could watch the peach blossoms bloom together—would see Jiuxiao’s bright smile next to them, and close his eyes, as their bodies got closer, as their mouths collided—
He heard someone come, shuddered.
“Shixiong?”
Zishu had his head burried between his own knees and was tightly fisting his own robes as his shidi’s voice rang in his warm, red ears.
“What?” He managed to ask.
“You can’t sleep either?”
“What do you mean, ‘either?’” Zishu raised his head, hoping the darkness of the night would suffice to hide the redness on his cheeks. “You were still asleep just a while ago.”
Jiuxiao sat next to Zishu. “Huh? Was I? …I didn’t notice.” He looked a bit dumbfounded. Zishu couldn’t help but chuckle and punched his arm.
“Shixiooonnnggg—what did I saaayyy—”
“You’re just dumb.” Zishu said, looking away to hide his smile and rub at his face. It was burning.
“You know, I thought a little.” Jiuxiao said. “Are you listening?” He added, nudging Zishu with his shoulder.
“I’m always listening. What did you think about?” He answered, working to make the blood flow away from his face and act composed as he turned towards Jiuxiao.
“I do act a bit stupid, lately. I think, more than usual. I don’t make that much of a mess usually, do I?” He said. He didn’t miss Zishu’s eyebrows rising to his hairline, and huffed in indignation: “Shixiong!! You know I am not that terrible!”
But Zishu looked away, his lips tightly pressed and eyes wide open, exaggerating his doubtfulness, before looking at Jiuxiao again.
“Shixiooonngggg—”
“Okay, okay, yes, it is particularly bad lately and I expected better from you—what about that?”
Zishu’s heart sank when he saw Jiuxiao’s composure crumple. “Aiyah—” Zishu shook his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, shixiong. I just meant—I think I’m just a bit over-excited because I’m not used to seeing you that often anymore.” He said, pouting a little.
Zishu froze, then immediately heated up again, and he cursed, again, and again, at everything, at his stupid shidi for being like that, at these feelings, at his heart for reacting like it did, at his own brain—
“Aiiyaahhh—” He only managed to say, slapping his shidi’s back. “Ridiculous,” he then mumbled. “Unfit for the martial artist you should be—” Because he didn’t know what to do with his hands, he hit the back of Jiuxiao’s head, then ruffled his hair a bit, then motioned to turn the other way to hide the redness of his face—before Jiuxiao caught him in a hug with his big arms.
Zishu melted instantly.
“I’m sorry shixiong, I’m terrible.” Zishu could hear the big smile in Jiuxiao’s voice and started cursing again. “But… I’m glad you don’t want me to leave. I’m glad you still want me here.”
Zishu let himself breathe and calm down a bit, enjoying the quiet whistling of the wind through the leaves, the cool air against his cheeks, and the warmth of Jiuxiao’s body around and against his own, before encircling Jiuxiao with his hands and patting his back, more gently than before.
Maybe, in yet another life, Zishu had made sure that Jiuxiao never came to the capital. Maybe they wouldn’t have seen each other for a long time, or maybe, like he’d considered so many times, he’d have managed to push him away, to make him leave. He’d have managed to make the future much safer, maybe.
He didn’t want for Jiuxiao to be here. He wanted for Jiuxiao to leave.
But hearing his voice, seeing him, and feeling his warmth against him like this—he wondered if he could ever bear for them to be apart again.