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“Quit staring at me.”
Really, Xiao Lanhua has no idea what she’s done to garner such attention. She huffs, leveling a stern glare onto the culprit, though it’s mostly half-hearted, asking him Why. Dongfang Qingcang doesn’t say a word in explanation, pointedly ignoring her and resuming his heavy, scrutinizing gaze.
“Daqiang, seriously,” she bemoans, starting to speedwalk further away from him on the pathway. It doesn’t work; he catches up in two long strides, his eyes fixed on her. “Stop being so weird. And silent. Say something.”
“No,” he says back, and then keeps on staring.
What does he take her words for?! Wilted leaves?! Muddy spirit stones?!! A pile of dirt?!!!
…No, probably not any of those. Those items may seem shabby, but they all had uses in a garden and were regarded with at least some respect. But with him, it’s like her words go in one ear and out the other!
Well then! Desperate times call for desperate measures!
“YOU CAN’T CATCH MEEEE!” she yells, sprinting full force ahead into the depths of Simingdian. “IF YOU WANT TO STARE SO BADLY, THEN YOU’LL HAVE TO FIND ME FIRST!!”
Xiao Lanhua had spent a good amount of her energy during the examination, but when she’s far enough away from him, she does a final teleportation. She crash lands in her bedroom, dropping directly onto her mattress and narrowly missing her pillows.
Thank the Heavens she hadn’t broken them and caused a sea of feathers. It would’ve been a headache to clean up.
Wheezing, she flops back upright, puffing out her cheeks to blow away her loose strands of hair—
And there Dongfang Qingcang stands, in his elegant navy robes and solemn stare glory, right in front of her.
“…” She doesn’t even know why she bothered. Of course he knew she’d be coming back here. Where else would she go? “Haha. Hi.”
Dongfang Qingcang makes a grunting noise, a typical greeting of his, then carries on to do something completely untypical of him— he steps forward and reaches for her arm.
“Xiao Huayao,” he says, “Give me your arm.”
“WHY,” she yelps, jumping backwards. His tone is a bit frightening, like he’s ready to kill someone, though… it doesn’t appear like his target is her.
Not that she thinks he would kill her. Still, it alarms her enough to make her retreat, pressing back against the wall.
Dongfang Qingcang continues to advance; not quite predator stalking its prey, but— a guard chasing its charge, perhaps. “Does Benzuo need to explain Benzuo’s actions to you? Your arm. Give it.”
“Why don’t you give me a reason first—!”
She’s cut off by his final step forward, leaving her with zero room to flee. She winces at the feeling of his hand around her wrist, as gentle as the grasp may be; the gash she’d made to attract Yingzhao hasn’t closed up yet. Dongfang Qingcang raises her injured hand up, then uses his other hand to pull at the sleeve.
“As expected. You’re still bleeding,” he frowns, tilting his chin to gesture at the cut. “Do you not know how to heal yourself?”
Xiao Lanhua startles. This… his weirdness this entire time was because… of this little thing? Was he worried about her and just didn’t know how to express it?
“Oh,” she says, slightly flustered. “It’s nothing, Daqiang, really! Just a small scratch, it doesn’t even hurt! I almost forgot it was there! Besides, you know I have less spiritual power to begin with, so after using so much in the exam, I…”
His displeasure doesn’t lessen. In fact, it only seems to have grown. “Wasting your already minimal power on those useless, selfish brats, you really don’t want your life anymore, huh? You shouldn’t have harmed yourself just for them, and to bait that ugly beast.”
“It wasn’t Yingzhao’s fault!” she protests. She may understand his anger, but she won’t let him wrong that adorable creature. “You saw it too, it just got possessed by something…”
“Does that negate its crime?” He exhales, his fury simmering. “If you hadn’t tamed it, Benzuo would have made sure that it wouldn’t reincarnate into its next life.”
“No need to be so harsh.” Xiao Lanhua sighs at his cynicism and shakes her wrist. “Just get on with it then, Daqiang. Cast your healing spell.”
Dongfang Qingcang falters. Xiao Lanhua blinks at him, confused at his hesitation. Was healing her not his intention? Did he just want to point out her injury and get her to take care of it herself?
Embarrassed, she opens her mouth to speak: “I can meditate for a while and then do it myself, it’s fine—”
“No,” he interrupts. “Benzuo… hasn’t used or performed healing spells on another for a very long time. I… do not want to get it wrong.”
Xiao Lanhua’s lips part in mild surprise at this confession. Warmth washes over her soul— for him to trust her enough to do so is rare. He hardly ever lets things slip about his past; all she really knows of him is his name, that he’s some sinful immortal, and that he’s taken it upon himself to care for her.
Then her heart drops when she realizes the implications of what he’s said.
“Daqiang, you… When they tortured you in Haotian Tower… did you not…”
She seems to hit a nerve; Dongfang Qingcang scowls, dropping her wrist from his grasp.
“Xiao Huayao, who do you take me for? Benzuo said that these spells are not familiar, not that Benzuo cannot heal at all. Benzuo’s healing speed must be at least thrice of yours, even when sealed and chained.”
“Okay, okay, relax,” she huffs, winded by his swift change of tone. The fact that he doesn’t deny her claims of torture makes her feel a bit sick, but if he won’t talk about it, she won’t push. “We’ll do it the old fashioned way, then! Do you know how to apply ointment and wrap some bandages?”
“Benzuo isn’t a fool.”
Xiao Lanhua rolls her eyes. “Uh huh, sure.”
“…What do you mean by that.”
“Sometimes you are kind of an idiot. It’s cute.”
“Benzuo is not cute—!”
“If you think that saying so is helping your case, it’s really not.”
Dongfang Qingcang goes to argue, but she doesn’t allow him to, rushing over to her tea table to take a seat. She summons a balm and a roll of thin bandages from her drawers to her palm, placing them onto the table, then glances at him expectantly.
Dongfang Qingcang doesn’t reach for either of them. Instead, he gets up and teleports away. He returns a moment later, holding a bowl of water and a clean cloth in his hands.
Xiao Lanhua feels a little unnerved at how seriously he’s handling this. Not only is he voluntarily tending to her wounds, but he’s ensuring that he cleans them first, too.
How does a person like him unlearn gentleness for violence? How has he become the man before her today?
When he sits down and takes her injured wrist, starting to dab at the wound with the damp cloth, Xiao Lanhua can’t help but shiver. It’s strange, being treated so tenderly. The last time someone had tended to her wounds this meticulously was hundreds of years ago, when she was just getting used to teleporting around. Siming had scolded her too; although it was with a lighter tone, it had held the same concern.
Don’t try such long distances before you’re certain of your own capabilities, Xiao Cao. Shifu’s hands were softer, dabbing ointment at her smattering of bruises. Why didn’t you tell me you fell?
This disciple didn’t want to bother shifu, she’d replied, tears brimming in her eyes. You’re already so busy with the Destiny Books every day, and I haven’t mastered the repairing techniques well enough yet to help you. I could just wait for the injuries to heal themselves, it would only take a few more days…
You’re not invincible, Xiao Cao. We may be immortals, but we still feel pain, just like mortals do. Never force yourself to endure something alone if you can’t. As long as I’m here, I will share half of that pain with you.
But shifu… what if you leave me one day? Shouldn’t I be prepared for that?
Don’t carry this habit with you into the future just because I’m gone. Xiao Lanhua, remember— You will always have someone that will hurt for you.
Xiao Lanhua clears her throat, at a loss of what to say and do. “You’re… you… Daqiang, you do this very well.”
“Lots of practice,” he replies. He doesn’t elaborate further.
From what? How much more hurt lies within this man that she doesn’t know about?
All of a sudden, she feels terribly guilty for always assuming the worst of him. Could hands with the blood of thousands on them care for her like this? Was he wrongly judged to be locked up for centuries, or is she the sole exception of his tenderness?
“Daqiang,” she blurts, “Are you—”
As if reading her mind, he replies: “You’re thinking too much, Xiao Huayao.”
“I didn’t even say what I—”
“You don’t need to. It’s written all over your face. Benzuo has fought in countless battles, of course Benzuo has had lots of practice with things like this.”
His tone clearly doesn’t invite any more conversation, so she shuts up. Since it’s only a minor injury, the tending to it doesn’t take long. Xiao Lanhua isn’t a fussy patient and sits properly; she stamps down her habit of restless fidgeting, afraid that one wrong move will scare him away.
She watches Dongfang Qingcang work: the focused crease between his eyebrows, the dabbing of ointment along her wound, the cautious winding of the bandages around her wrist—
“Done,” he announces, letting go of her arm.
Xiao Lanhua jolts, snapping out of her reverie, unknowingly flushing pink. “Th— Thank you, Daqiang! I won’t be so reckless next time, I promise!”
Dongfang Qingcang gives her a pointed look. “You still want there to be a next time?”
“No no no no, no next time!” she exclaims, jumping up from the floor. “There won’t be a next time! I… well, I’ll do my very best, because obviously if there’s a super huge beast coming my way and I can’t dodge it, then I’ll still—”
A snort comes from Dongfang Qingcang. Xiao Lanhua glances over at him, catching a blink-and-you’d-miss-it kind of smile on his face. But she doesn’t miss it— she never does, as though these smiles are only meant for her to see.
Xiao Lanhua memorizes the fond exasperation in the curve of his lips, the dazed lifted corner of his mouth. Dongfang Qingcang offers smiles like they’re something forbidden, and she treasures them like they’re something worth keeping.
“Good,” he says at last. “Benzuo won’t always be around to take care of you— so you must learn to take care of yourself better.”
Xiao Lanhua’s heart squeezes in her chest. The thought of a life without Daqiang is… “You won’t?”
Dongfang Qingcang’s smile falls away. “Hiding here forever won’t do you any good, will it? Benzuo must leave when the time comes.”
“I… I know.” Xiao Lanhua bites her lip. “I just thought…”
Thought what? That he’d be the first to stay?
Dongfang Qingcang sighs. “Benzuo is here now, so don’t worry too much. Nonetheless, you must listen to me. Xiao Huayao, your life is important, so you must value it the same way you value the lives of others. When your blood spills, so does mine. When you hurt, so do I. Do you understand?”
Although he’s said these things to her before, Xiao Lanhua’s smile slowly re-blossoms. Daqiang is right. Who cares if he has to leave one day? She’ll face that sadness head-on when it happens. At this moment, he’s chosen to be here, accompanying her every day. Despite all the things he must have to get back to, he hasn’t left her yet.
You will always have someone that will hurt for you.
Shifu, look, she wants to shout, all the way down to the mortal realm. I found him.