Chapter Text
The space was vast, but he had time enough to confirm that it was empty. The ground was wholly made of ashy sand, that glimmered like silver under the white light of a distant star. At first it seemed, it was all there was, but after days, or months — he wasn’t sure — his feet had finally reached the shore of the Red Sea. The liquid itself was translucent, but the sand changed color from its ashy tone to the deep blood red when wet.
He tried stepping into the liquid just to feel a different texture touching his skin, his clothes were ruined with sand, his messy hair dry and rough from the sandstorms he had to endure. His body was torn with the sand shards, sharp as a knife.
But the liquid burned him instead of soothing his parched skin, and he quickly ran away from it, not looking back.
And thus the sea became one more place his brain remembered to avoid. The first one was the crash site, desolate land huge as a country, filled with mechanical debris, broken glass and shattered stone. Ruined family houses, dead flora, that wouldn’t decompose for centuries, piles of broken starskiffs, that couldn’t fly no more. All of it, a reminder of home and life that was long gone.
Time was a fickle thing, when the light didn’t set behind the horizon. At first he tried to keep a track of it. For a few decades he was helped with a measuring device that he found amongst the huge skeleton of a dead ship. He bided his time and waited, waited and waited. For someone.
He tried to keep his mind occupied, found a starchess board and wasted time playing with himself, perfecting his moves, until he was no longer able to tear his own defense.
He held his weapon against invisible enemies and fought, as if his life depended on it. Perfecting his stance until the ghosts he saw couldn’t graze him with their swords.
After the measuring device lost its power, he began to keep track of the time by counting how many times he slept. He spent two centuries like that, but as the time went he was no longer able to tell when he was dreaming or not.
Ghosts of the past, like the enemies he aimlessly tried to pierce with his blade, began to visit him, within his dreams or outside. Mirages and visions were so real, he believed he was surrounded by them, and everything came back to the way it was.
But he was startled when he tried to reach and his palm met with the scratchy surface of the sand, instead of the soft cheek of a baby he remembered raising, cradling in his arms. The baby grew up, and made him so proud and happy, he remembered. He remembered bright smile and young determination, the first time the baby said his name, and the time after, when he was referred to by his title only.
Maybe that was why it was hard for him to remember his own name now.
There were also memories of earlier times.
His mind grew tired of clinging to its humanity, or it was no longer able to — he wasn’t sure, he couldn’t think.
He stopped all the movement and let the sand bury him, until there was no way for him to open his eyes and move. His body no longer felt like a body, and his mind could stay adrift forever in the past, stuck in an endless dream of a life that once was his.
He dreamed of a soft white fur of his mother’s tail, her gentle hands as she cradled him to her chest, smiling and cooing at the baby, who was looking at her with a childlike wonder in his eyes.
He couldn’t know what she was saying, but her eyes conveyed the sweet nature of her words. She had a tear mole on her left cheek, the eyes that looked at him with love were as green as a forest he liked to play in as a child. Her white hair was curly, at first she kept it long and untied, but as the years went by, she started to tie it up messily and then cut it off, so it was shoulder length.
He remembered he loved her. But her time came too soon, and no longer after, his father followed, executed by the Ten Lords Commission.
He was almost a teenager at that point, already studying diligently under the guidance of the stoic swordmaster. She took him in after his half-siblings took over the family estate and the humble fortune. Him being the youngest and the only child of the second wife, resulted in his existence being completely ignored. His father’s favor was no longer able to keep him safe.
Jingliu took him with her, away from Luofu and away from the prying eyes of people who wouldn't forget his father’s sins.
She had a small house with a garden on the edge of a mountain. Her sect was once residing on its peak, but her master and most of the disciples had perished, long before he was born.
Jingliu swore to continue their teachings, and promised to never once deny anyone that wanted to learn the way of the sword. She didn’t value talent, only hard work and determination.
“Why did you let me follow you?” he asked her once, their tea was going cold, as they both lost themselves in a fierce match of starchess.
“You just had the courage to do so.”
“You mean to tell me no one ever asked you to teach them?” he asked, bewildered.
She gazed at him calmly, her frosty facade melting, as she reached out and ruffled his hair.
“Many have,” she said, “but they didn’t stay for long. I do not have a patience for those who think themselves special enough to take lessons only from the best. They wanted me to guide them, but did not listen.”
“So you let them go?”
“They let themselves go, growing frustrated with the repetitive tasks and… I guess, my silence.”
He raised his brows.
“You are not silent.”
“No one did stick around to find that out,” she breathed, her voice troubled, eyes sad, “Baiheng says my frown is scaring people away.”
It was the first time he heard that name.
“Who’s Baiheng?”
Jingliu stood up, looking at the board.
“You lost, I have you in three moves,” she said, dusting off her pants, “the match is over, let’s get back to work.”
He scrambled to get up, following after her immediately.
“Yes, master.”
He found out who Baiheng is soon after their conversation. The sun wasn’t up yet, but there was a ruckus near the gate to their home. He lay on the mat, pulling up the sheets to his chin, waiting for his master to wake up and scare away the intruder.
But there was no sound of the door sliding open, and the noise near the gate suspiciously quieted down. Whoever wanted to, already managed to enter. He wondered why his master wasn’t reacting, she must have heard the noise.
Staying vigilant, he threw the covers aside and quietly tip-toed across the wooden floor. He couldn’t fight the small shivers that wracked his frame, the night was cold and the walls were thin.
Grabbing his sword, that was propped against a wall, he slid the door open, the corridor was dark, the tree outside, illuminated by the moon, cast strange shadows on the walls. Gulping, he grasped his weapon harder.
When he made it to the door, making as little noise as he could with how creaky the floorboards were, the door slid open suddenly. It was so fast and violent, he almost dropped his sword.
The intruder cursed lightly, fiddling with the light switch. He waited with his sword in the air ready to strike, even if his arms trembled like tree branches during the storm.
The light turned on, there was a loud single clap.
“Surprise!”
The tall woman was standing in the doorway with her hands lifted, in what was supposed to be an applause worthy moment.
But her shoulders slowly dropped, as she saw the young boy, looking at her in pure horror.
“Oh my aeons, Jingliu didn’t tell me she had a kid,” she covered her mouth with a hand, eyebrows almost disappearing in her hairline“…no wait, she wouldn’t do this to me…”
The boy lowered his sword, seeing as the intruder made no move to attack him. He was still on his guard, but decided to see where this was going.
“… who are you?” he asked, trying to sound calm, “how do you know my Master?”
“Your master? Oh! So she didn’t kidnap you, that’s good to hear!” The woman looked relieved and even laughed, sounding only a little bit strained, “And my name is Baiheng! I know this isn't a very good first impression you have of me, but I swear, Jingliu’s is the only house I ever broke into. And it’s with her permission, of course.”
“Without,” came the quiet reply, he turned around to see his master, emerging from her room, her hair was dripping wet, and her night clothes were wrinkled and put on haphazardly.
She was probably out, bathing in cold springs, which was her habit for full moon nights. That's why she didn’t react before him.
“Now, this is quite an entrance, oh great sword master,” Baiheng bowed gallantly, smiling from ear to ear, “I was just chatting with your diligent disciple. He was all ready to protect you, too. What a sweet boy. How come you didn’t tell me about him?”
Baiheng stays with them for a bit. His master changes, her smile begins to reach her eyes, he hears her laugh for the first time.
It was a happy couple of days. Baiheng convinced Jingliu to go easy on her little disciple with training and other tasks, and his Master became malleable to her requests. They go on walks instead, wander into the city and see the community that Jing Liu tried so desperately to sever ties with.
Cangcheng is a beautiful place, there is water everywhere, small lakes and ponds with beautifully crafted wooden gazebos on the water. The tall mountains overlook the city, which is built on gentler slopes.
Some people bow to Jingliu shortly, out of respect, others look at her in reverence. It is apparent that Cangcheng loves their swordmaster, despite her coldness, maybe even more so because of it. She takes the form of a deity in their admiration.
Baiheng only laughs at it, squeezing both of their hands in her own, sensing their hesitation. She takes them along the bright street filled with various shops and food stalls.
“Loosen up Jingliu,” she whispers to his master, and then turns to him, poking his cheek, “and you, my little bird, come on, let’s have fun. We’re going shopping. You can pick anything, and Auntie Baiheng will buy it for you. Whatever it may be. Sounds good?”
He looked at her in surprise.
“Won’t it be too much?”
“It’s okay, your old master has enough money to buy herself a castle.”
“So we’re using my money, now?”
“Our money, my dear wife. Ha! I tricked you, you didn’t sign a prenup!”
Jingliu rolled her eyes and Baiheng laughed loudly.
“Master didn’t tell me she’s married.”
That provoked another wave of giggles, even Jingliu smiled exasperated. He looked at her in wonder, but slowly a smile creeped on his face as well.
“Let’s go shopping!”
Baiheng didn’t stay for long. He heard her talking to Jingliu late at night. It wasn’t exactly an argument, but the tones of their voices are incensed.
His master sounded like she wants to scream, but opted for silence instead. Then she whispered something that had Baiheng storm out of the room before he could hide himself and the fact that he was very clearly eavesdropping on them.
Baiheng looked winded, her eyes glassy and face somber.
“Hello, little lion,” she sighed, ruffling His hair, “take good care of your master while I’m gone alright? Don’t let her be alone.”
He nodded solemnly.
“You’re leaving?”
“The stars are calling me again,” she said dramatically, and laughed at herself, “There is another journey to be had.”
“Do you have to?”
“No, I want to,” she said, her smile a little sad, “I would like you to join me one day, though. See what it’s like to be Nameless.”
He nodded, but his eyes welled up with tears. It was just a few days, but Baiheng had quickly become irreplaceable in his heart.
“Ai, don’t cry. I will be back before you know it.”
Next time he opened his eyes, he couldn’t move, there were thick branches growing out of his limbs, and he was long buried under the sand, which was traveling with the harsh winds constantly. There was nothing left for him to do. Nobody came looking for him, because he had no one left. Luofu was no more. He couldn’t even try to call on the Lightning Lord, as he had also fallen, along with their Aeon. Reignbow Arbiter was lost to space and time, and so was their whole fleet.
There was no Xianzhou anymore.
He desperately called onto the only thing he had left, but his clenched fists were empty, no cool touch of steel and familiar crackle of energy that came with it.
There was no way for him to escape, he will continue to dream aimlessly, laying under the earth, to the end of time. His curse will make it impossible for him to die. That was his price to pay.
Even his weapon, the guandao, the precious gift, was stripped away from him.
It hurt, the memory of the day it was given to him, flooding his mind.
They first met in Zhuming.
That he was permitted to accompany Baiheng on this trip, was a miracle on its own, but after their begging went on constantly for a few days, Jingliu finally let him go. She refused to go herself, to Baiheng’s great dismay, but he understood why.
There was great unrest in Luofu, the Sanctus Medicus Sect was causing more damage than ever, and General Tengxiao was seeing this as a sign of a greater conflict. The Borisins’ fleet was already making their moves against other Xianzhou ships. The Luofu lacked the High Elder, due to some inner discord between Vidyadhara.
Jing Liu was helping Tengxiao to prepare for the worst, whilst also looking into the High Elder matter in secret. Vidyadhara inner politics were not to be meddled with by the Xianzhou Natives, but they had to find a quick way to close the gap in their defense, or at least be ready to work around it.
This led to another argument, he hadn’t eavesdropped on, but it was clear from the tense air between Baiheng and Jingliu, days before their departure to Zhuming. Baiheng smiled only in his presence, her foxy ears a little downturned at all times.
Before they arrived in Zhuming, Baiheng said she wanted him to meet a new friend, who will be leaving with them to Luofu.
“He is Huaiyan’s retainer, but is very eager to go to Luofu to study. That’s why we’re taking him with us.”
“His master agreed?”
“General Huaiyan is a little different than our Jing Liu, you see, and Yingxing is already fifteen years old. Huaiyan agreed to let him come if he stays under my care.”
“So…” he looked at her confused, “you’re staying with us on Luofu?”
“En,” Baiheng nodded her head, “there is an ugly war brewing from the looks of it. And I promised Huaiyan, I will take care of Yingxing, so until he decides to go back, or comes of age, I am his guardian.”
He looked at the distant stars that passed them in a rush. Zhuming was only a couple galaxies away from Luofu, but the trip was long.
Yingxing was hardly looking at him the first time Baiheng introduced them to each other. She said he was a young genius from Zhuming, and General Huiyan himself took him under his tutelage.
Being fifteen years old and a short-life species, Yingxing’s talent put the hundred-year-old masters to shame, and it was only the beginning for him.
Yingxing was two years older than him, but he was so much taller and boarder in frame. His hands were already full of small scars and burns from working in a forge, his hair was long and dark, the eyes changing colors from blue to lilac depending on the light. The way he spoke was also nothing he’s heard before. Even though he was speaking the Xianzhou common language fluently, there was a shadow of an accent, that was probably a leftover from his devastated homeland’s tongue.
He couldn’t help just looking at him, curious and eager to finally talk to someone his age. He wanted to see if he was really as interesting as the Baiheng story made him out to be. But the boy hardly paid him any attention, aside from politely greeting him, when they first met.
He would trail after him, as Yingxing gave him a little tour around Zhuming main streets, showing food vendors.
“Do you want something to drink?” he would ask, unruffled, by how the younger boy looked at everything in awe.
Zhuming, though still maintaining traditional architecture and decor, was far more technologically advanced than Luofu. There were walking robots, that Yingxing called Aurumatons, carrying out duties, like patrolling the streets or escorting dignitaries or goods. Something that on Luofu was done by people.
“You don’t have them?” Yingxing asked, seeing how he gawked at them.
He shook his head, quickly stepping aside as a huge robot passed them. Yingxing seemed to snicker under his breath.
“We have Cloud Knights,” he explained, “they usually are the ones patrolling the streets.”
Yingxing took him by his hand, when he strayed too far away, busy taking in the sights.
“That’s because you don’t have Heliobi on Luofu.”
That was right, Heliobi appeared only in Zhuming. They were almost impossible to defeat, not having any physical bodies on their own. They would attach themselves to the bodies of Zhuming citizens, feed on them until they grew powerful enough to take over control completely.
Getting rid of Heliobi almost always ended with the death of the host. Only Zhuming’s High Elder, Yanting Jun was able to destroy their very essence. The Artisanship Commission was working on an effective weapon, but with little success. Yingxing seemed vexed by it.
“If only I was able to study Yanting Jun’s powers, I would find a solution in no time. But this way we’re stumbling in the dark. Using robots instead of human troops is a great way to reduce the number of deaths, but it is not a remedy.”
“Why won’t you ask them for help?”
“The dragon is a thousand years old, all it has ever done, since I've been here, is… sleep. It does not use its humanoid form, just sleeps hovering over the Primordial Flame.”
“I see,” he said, noticing the passionate glint in Yingxing’s eyes, “It seems Zhuming’s relations with Vidyadhara are not so different from Luofu. I’ve never even seen our High Elder. Entry to Scalegore Waterscape is forbidden.”
Yingxing looked at him.
“Well, you can look at our High Elder all day long,” he said, pulling him into some narrow alley, “let me show you.”
They crossed the main town center, moving along the weirdly shaped streets and walls of buildings that he has never seen before in his life. It seemed like the main rule for building a house was ‘no sharp angles’. Everything was weavy, made to look like a flickering flame, alive and in constant movement.
Yingxing guided him to the steps that were floating over the wide red river. They led very high up, where the unimaginable brightness made it impossible to see anything.
“What is it?”
“Our Flint Emperor, " said Yingxing, “hurry.”
The vapor that was coming from the river warmed his skin, making him flush. Everything here was warm on the brink of being unbearable. It was different from Luofu, where the windy weather and constant rains got rid of the humidity.
When they were approaching the Primordial Flame, Yingxing suddenly took his hand again, making him stop.
“You wanna see this.”
He turned around and the breath caught in his throat. The golden steps they just braved all disappeared, leaving the clear view of what lay below. He saw it once before when they were landing. But after seeing it from upclose, the beautiful Lotus that the city was made to resemble was even more breathtaking. It was so intricate and perfectly shaped.
“I often sit here, just looking at the view.”
“It’s beautiful,” he said, then more to himself, added, “what do you want to go to Luofu for, when you have this?”
Yingxing hummed. They both stared for a while, not saying anything. Then his skin started to itch, and he pulled on the shirt that was plastered to his body by the hot mist.
“On the second thought,” he smiled, when Yingxing turned to him, “I get it, the weather here is really really unbearable.”
Yingxing gave him a long look.
“You wouldn’t last a day in the forge.”
“This is true,” he agreed, “thankfully I don’t have to. You’re the craftsman between us.”
Yingxing finally cracked a small smile.
“And what is your specialty?”
“I will show you when we arrive in Luofu.”
The blacksmith looked at him.
“I’m not playing with you anymore,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “isn’t it boring for you?”
“Winning?” he smirked, delighting in the older ones frown, “never.”
The boy rolled his eyes at him and stood up, probably already thinking about locking himself away from the outside world in his workrooms for another day or so. He was in a constant rush to be somewhere else, forever impatient.
“Where are you going?” he went after him, throwing an arm around his shoulders.
“To work,” he mumbled.
“Can I go with you?”
“If you promise to be quiet.”
“Promise.”
They both knew he wouldn't be quiet, but Yingxing doesn’t really expect him to. He complains only a little, when he rummages through his drawers, finding old projects and sketches.
Sometimes he even is useful, when Yingxing grows frustrated with math, he shoves the papers with pencil scribbled equations his way.
This was how the months went by for him. Finally having someone his age to speak to, he became a little unbearable, bothering and poking at Yingxing. Most of the time he was hellbent on ignoring him, so engrossed in his tasks, he could go days without speaking at all.
He learned very fast what to say to really get him, and used it to get under his skin. For example, Yingxing hated losing, at anything.
Yingxing had said starchess didn’t interest him, but after a few more defeats, he had a book on starchess on his desk.
When they sparred and he won, Yingxing would sulk for the rest of the day. They would eventually reconcile at dinner, but his silence was intense. At first he was taken aback by it, but not the one to back off, he continued to chat him up, telling him some gossip from the Cloud Knights barracks, random facts. He knew Yingxing was always listening intently, and when he would stop suddenly mid-sentence, Yingxing would look at him expectantly, urging him to continue.
What really truly got him though, was pointing out mistakes in the equations he quickly scribbled next to his sketches.
At some point he would just look at his notes, and Yingxing was already fuming, telling him to mind his own business.
“If you need help, you can just come to me, you know?” he said sweetly, “we’re friends after all.”
“I need to put a lock on this door,” Yingxing muttered, coming up to him, and snatching away his notebook, “who invited you here?”
“Baiheng actually,” he replied, “you missed dinner, she said you haven’t left your room since morning, aren’t you hungry?”
“Not really.”
They both were silent, as Yingxing’s stomach growled.
“Yeah, right…” he rolled his eyes, “I was actually going out to get dumplings, you can tag along?”
“I need to finish this first,” he said, stubborn.
He sighed, rubbing his neck. It was a long day for him too, first he had trained with his Master, then joined Cloud Knights in their combat training under General Tengxiao.
“Right, okay, I guess I will invite A-Meng then,” he said, turning to close the door, already pulling out his phone to text his other friend.
Yingxing put down his pencil, and looked at him.
“Give me five minutes.”
“What?”
“I’m going with you,” he said, sounding exasperated.
It was hard for Yingxing on Luofu. Whereas on Zhuming he was at first protected by being Huaiyan’s protégé, his skill soon was able to defend itself alone.
Here, he had no one to protect him. Most of the masters at the Artisanship Commission were just hostile, but some of the younger recruits, to which Yingxing belonged, were openly malicious.
Baiheng was not really a familiar face on Luofu, which put him in a tough position. They appeared as a weird pair of outsiders to most Luofu citizens.
Even so, Yingxing never complained. His pride in face of such hardships and ugly gossip was something he couldn’t help, but admire.
Yingxing stood straight, receiving complete scraps instead of real material to complete assignments from his teacher. Some of the students snickered behind his back, as he carried the trash to his workbench.
He was feeding the finches that lived on the tree outside his window, when he saw Yingxing coming back from the Artisanship Commission. It was a late evening, artificial sun was hiding behind the horizon, making the sea near Alchemy Commission appear golden.
He had his fair share of trouble on that day. Jingliu made him accompany General Tengxiao to the important meeting with Yuque Arbiter-General herself. He was chosen to go in his Masters place, as she was making progress on her mission regarding High Elder.
General always appeared in his eyes to be a silent and strict man, similar to his master in his attitude. They were discussing Borisins’ latest moves, criticizing Yaoqing’s boldness as always. He listened intently, filing every piece of information for later to tell his master.
He knew he was here more as an escort for the General, than anything else, where Jingliu could have been expected to participate, he knew very well he had to keep his mouth shut.
At least, that’s what he thought.
They were just in the middle of talking about the strange jellyfish-like Abominations that made soldiers lose their minds.
“This is truly a baffling case,” said the Yuque General, “it’s not Mara, but something that makes them act against their own people. We sent whole troops, but it seems like we are just feeding the enemy at this point. None have returned.”
“After killing it, the destroyed parts just attach themselves to the Cloud Knight and make them lose their minds.”
General Tengxiao slowly turned to him, looking with the unfeeling green eyes.
“What do you think?” he said.
It was the first time the General spoke to him directly, General of the Yuque gazed at him expectantly.
He swallowed around the sudden tightness in his throat and paused to think. His master told him about this strange case, asked him to try to come up with solutions, but he thought it was no more than an exercise.
Now, he understood, she prepared him for this.
“Do the infected attack one another?” he asked first, looking from one face to another.
“No,” said the Yuque General, “from the device we set to track their movements we can observe that they cease their activity completely, when they are not fighting. Like a marionette on a string.”
“And destroying the jellyfish is impossible, because they keep multiplying and infecting more and more soldiers…” he muttered, putting a finger to his lips, “and the infected all act in the same way.”
“Do you have any theory as to what it may be?”
“A hivemind,” he said, looking up at General Tengxiao, “I’m sure the hive master is on the ship as well, probably on the lower levels, where the soldiers couldn’t make it before becoming infected.”
He turnus to look at Yingxing, as he stepped into his room, holding up his hand in greeting. His gaze immediately focused on the small box he was holding under his arm. Yingxing’s expression was calm, but he could recognize the genuine glint in his eye.
“Did you win?” he asked.
“How could I not?” he puffed his chest out proudly, making him smile, “there is hardly any competition.”
“Did you come to Luofu, just so you can ace every assignment you get?”
“Are you assuming I didn’t ace in Zhuming?” he laughed, some of the delight finally brightening up his face, “And no, I came here because I wanted to see Luofu’s artisanship. Zhuming isn’t as war-oriented in their technology.”
“Well, Luofu is on the brink of a war almost every century,” he said, closing his eyes, “and if there is not a war that’s ours, Cloud Knights are sent to aid other ships.”
Yingxing nodded.
“And I only have a century, at best, to make a difference,” he said slowly, “that’s why I need to hurry.”
Those words made him stop. He turned around to face Yingxing, peering into his eyes. He was barely sixteen, but was already thinking about his own death. Did every short-lived person think like this? He wondered how it felt for him to live among people, who have centuries ahead of them, forever young. Yingxing only had a few decades before he would start to get old, his hands losing their dexterity, and his passion would be snuffed out, with his life.
“Don’t talk like that,” he heard himself saying.
Yingxing raised his brows.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re going to die,” he said, “it’s too early to think about this.”
“But I will,” he said harshly, “I have to keep reminding myself of it, I don’t have time to simply forget about it.”
Was it because he was living among them, that he was constantly reminded of his own mortality? Would he think, like that, had he ended up anywhere else, among people with normal lifespans?
This bothered him immensely. If Yingxing kept thinking about it, he couldn’t help, but think about it too. And his chest hurt.
He didn’t say anything to that. After a few minutes of silence Yingxing cleared his throat.
“Anyway,” he said, awkwardly changing the topic, “I actually have something… for you.”
“For me?” he looked up surprised, his eyes coming back to focus on a small box.
“Yes,” he admitted quietly, coming closer to give it to him.
He took the box and sat on the floor to open the gift. First thing that caught his eye was the golden shine of the item. He looked at Yingxing questioningly.
“Just open it,” he said, averting his gaze.
He unwrapped the paper carefully and before his eyes appeared a beautiful golden lion. It looked so cute, he stared at it in awe.
“You can make it walk,” said Yingxing, sitting down beside him. He pressed something on the lion’s back and the mechanical creature started moving gracefully, slow and proud. It made a few steps and sat down, tilting its head and raising one paw, as if to groom it. Then it laid down, arranging its limbs comfortably.
He couldn't stop staring at the lion, then at Yingxing, who was looking back at him earnestly.
“What do you think?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it. The gift slowly lifted itself up to stand gloriously. Outstretching his hand to touch it, the lion suddenly turned its head towards him, and he gasped.
“You made it for me?”
“Yeah, well,” Yingxing said, appearing a little flustered, “I said it’s yours. I think a lion suits you.”
He couldn’t help himself, and in a happy outburst he threw his arms around Yingxing and hugged him tightly.
“Thank you,” he said, “no one ever made a present like this for me before.”
Yingxing’s body tensed, then relaxed slowly, as he hugged him back lightly.
“I’m glad you like it.”
He finds himself mesmerized by the way Yingxing moves, the way he throws his head back when he laughs. Seeing the triumphant glint in those blue eyes always makes him excited.
They still fight, pull each other's hair and compete with each other at everything. But the friendship blooms.
When he goes to the forgery that Yingxing works in at the Artisanship Commission, all the other recruits stare at him wide-eyed.
It’s no wonder, he just returned from the very successful mission. With ten other Cloud Knights, who accompanied him, he managed to defeat the hivemind and achieved almost bloodless victory. Most of the victims of the hive were saved, and were able to securely come back to their homes on Yuque.
He waved at Yingxing immediately, spotting him sitting behind his desk in the back of the spacious study. His expression, when he saw him, made his heart skip a bit.
Yingxing had his hair tied in a messy low bun, the sleeves of his shirt were pulled to his elbows, exposing his bony wrists, and many little scars and burns. He had a small bandaid on his pinky, probably another accident during work.
He had to shake his head, making the sudden fascination pass. They hadn’t seen each other for only a month, but it felt like a lot of time. Something seemed to change, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
He approached Yingxing a little hesitant, bewildered at how unsure he suddenly felt.
“You came back early,” he said, closing his notebook.
“Aww, I missed you too,” he replied, plopping down to sit beside him.
Yingxing moved a little so he had more room, but their shoulders still touched. He felt a pleasant tingling sensation in his skin, and sighed happily.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Like I could sleep for days,” he said, propping his head on Yingxing's shoulder for good measure.
He felt a hand burying itself in his unruly hair, made even worse by the fact that he hadn’t had time for a proper bath in a while. His body shivered at the memory of lukewarm water in the shared Cloud Knights bathroom.
“You’re a celebrity now,” said Yingxing, glancing up at the people in the forge, some openly staring at him and whispering, “there won’t be time to sleep.”
“That’s the worst part,” he complained, “I have to go see the General in half an hour, I will be joining the Cloud Knights ahead of time.”
“This is…”
“They will make use of anything these days, a war was foretold to happen in the next ten years,” he sighed, corners of his lips a little downturned, “Luofu is to be at the frontlines of it. The weakest link. They say.”
Yingxing pulled his hair suddenly, he yelped and looked at him wounded.
“You just spent too much time with the pricks from Yuque, you’re brainwashed. You saved a hundred soldiers for them, like it’s nothing,” sounding affronted, he stopped tugging on his hair, opting for petting it delicately, “I would say they have no face to go around telling such lies.”
“I didn’t say anyone told me anything!” he protested.
“It’s as clear as a day. I would punch them if I had the chance,” he crossed his arms, huffing, “I was expecting you to come back to rub your success in my face, I even prepared myself to be annoyed.”
He pressed a smile that suddenly bloomed on his face into Yingxing’s shoulder.
“You want me to be annoying?”
“Better than this self-deprecating nonsense.”
He just nodded and turned his head a little to look at both of their laps, seeing how their legs touched and how close their hands were to each other, he reached out with his own tentatively.
He barely touched his palm with his fingers, and Yingxing’s hand backed away as if burned. Making a disappointed noise he looked at Yingxing. Those blue eyes were already staring at him, as he did, making him startle at how close they have accidentally ended up.
“Actually, I’m joining the military research team in the Artisanship Commission,” he whispered quietly, “so don’t think you’re better.”
This proudness, straight back and effortless confidence in which he carried himself. It was overwhelming. And also arrogance and stubborness that seemed like too much for his own good.
All of this was suddenly so so attractive.
“———?”
“Hmm?”
“Let’s get out of here,” Yingxing said, glancing around.
Pulled out of his reverie, he abruptly became aware of people that surrounded them. Without saying anything, he complied with Yingxing’s words and stood up to get out of the room, followed by hushed whispers.
Yingxing was out the door as soon as he blinked, he went to follow, but on the corridor he stopped in his tracks, suddenly lost, because he didn’t see him anywhere. He made a couple of hesitant steps in one direction then turned to the other. Was this a butt of another stupid joke of his? Yingxing just ditched him? But he just came back home!
Aeons, he couldn’t stand that guy.
“Ying—“ he went to call him, but the sudden noise cut him off, and then there was someone pulling his arm.
Yelping as he was pulled inside some dusty room on the end of the hall, he tried to smack the person that held him, but it turned out to be none other than Yingxing.
“You!” he scowled, embarrassed by his own reaction suddenly.
“Haha, gosh, your face!” Yingxing laughed, overjoyed, reaching out to pull the lock of his hair behind his ear, “relax… it’s only me.”
“Would it kill you to just wait a second?”
“You’re just too slow, I’m sorry,” he shrugged, “try to keep up next time.”
The retort was already at the tip of his tongue, but the words suddenly left him.
Was Yingxing’s smile always that handsome? Or was it the lighting? The delicate way his black hair fell around his face, the long bangs that got into his eyes. And he had glasses on, somehow making him even more attractive.
This made him unable to think, and it was really inconvenient when he had an argument to win, but he couldn’t stop looking at him.
Maybe it was just the distance and time spent apart. Baiheng kept saying that distance makes the heart grows fonder.
He shook his head, and tried to focus on his surroundings instead. It was a narrow dusty room with a little window. There was a low table near the windowsill and the walls were all covered with sketches. Looking at the artwork and ineligible scribbles, he put the two and two together.
There were piles of rubble on the floor, machinery parts and blunt weapons, all kinds of style.
“How did you find this place?”
“I explored.”
“What’s wrong with your study at home?”
“Well, classes were boring sometimes… and sometimes it got too loud, I think best when there’s silence, when I work.”
He looked around in amazement. The room was cluttered, but tidy, no wonder, considering it was Yingxing’s. He always preferred to maintain a special kind of order in his space. It was fascinating to witness, he organised his things not by the category of an item, but by size and shape. This made him the only person able to navigate his little laboratory.
He displaced his things sometimes at first, when he touched them, Yingxing always knew when he snooped through the wild myriad of things in his study.
“… or when it’s me helping you,” he added, smirking and touching some of the sketches.
“… or when it’s you, bothering me” Yingxing agreed easily, making him gawk, because he expected an eye-roll at best.
He couldn’t look at anything else, when he was this earnest. It used to piss him off at how flustered it left him feeling. As if it was some tactic Yingxing deployed against him knowingly to catch him off-guard. But at this moment he wouldn’t even mind if it was. It only would only make him hotter in his eyes. His heart was beating wildly, and he felt like a deer caught in the headlights.
‘It’s a stupid feeling,’ he suddenly remembered his master saying, ‘one can barely understand it.’
Oh, he agreed. It felt so overwhelming, it was getting uncomfortable. When did this happen? Was this before or after the mechanical lion? The long hours he spent just staring at it, until Baiheng noticed and Jing Liu chastised him for obsessing over toys.
It was uncomfortable how his hands itched to touch, or how Yingxing hand in his hair suddenly felt electric.
And if Yingxing could, why couldn’t he?
He reached out for his bangs, touching it lightly and brushing it back. Yingxing blinked, taken aback, almost pulling away, but he pressed on. Touched his cheek, brushing away stray locks of hair.
“What are you doing?” he asked, when Yingxing suddenly leaned in close, so he could feel his breath on his cheek.
“What do you think?”
“Are you going to…?”
“Well, can I? Or are you just going to run your mouth?”
He puffed up his chest, standing on his tiptoes so they were the same height, and putting one arm on the wall behind Yingxing, leaning against it. They were so close, their chests touched with each breath they took.
“Shut me up, if you don’t like it, then,” he raised his brows, challenging him.
He couldn’t hold this stance for long, because as soon as their lips met, his knees grew so weak, he could hardly stand by himself. He put his hand on Yingxing’s shoulder for support, who didn’t seem to fare any better, seeing how he wobbled in his place as they parted.
“what——“
But there was a second kiss. The third. And then fourth, that left them both gasping for air.