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“Do you think it’s time for me to retire, Lady Fu?”
Fu Xuan froze, her usual poise and grace breaking as she glared at him. After a moment of silence, the Master Diviner returned her gaze to their game of starchess .
Honestly speaking, it wasn’t Jing Yuan’s intention to receive that sort of reaction from her... but he’ll take what he can get. It wasn’t everyday he could get the Master Diviner bewildered, after all.
And so he smiles serenely, patiently, awaiting her reply.
Fu Xuan, with careful movements and equally careful words, moves a pawn. “Your jokes were never really funny, General.”
Jing Yuan continues to smile.
“On the contrary, Lady Fu.” He picks up a rook and places it down. “Perhaps in another life, I would have made quite the comedian.”
Fu Xuan snorts, inelegantly. She moves a piece in an attempt to checkmate his king. Jing Yuan blocks it. She frowns.
Jing Yuan presses on. “That was a serious question, Lady Fu.”
“General, if you want to distract me with questions, I urge you to stop.”
“Such malice. You think so lowly of your own general,” Jing Yuan teases lightly. He rested his chin upon his palm, golden eyes heavy and lidded. Sleepy.
In moments like these, Jing Yuan truly felt like he was living up to his infamous moniker. Dozing General.
In his futile defense, it was rather late.
His long lashes swept low, casting shadows over the amber of his eyes, surveying the starchess board. Fu Xuan had yet to make a move.
“I am just over seven hundred years old, and have served the Xianzhou Alliance for all my life.” He idly taps a finger on his cheek, and breathes deeply. “My point is... I am nearing my eighth century. Close to becoming mara-struck . I had always thought I’d die in battle. But now...”
He had seen what happened to his mentor. Jingliu , the former Sword Champion, was a hero, beloved by all, as were all the members of the High-Cloud Quintet.
They hadn’t lasted a hundred years before the group disbanded, and his friends fell, one by one. Dan Feng was reborn , at the very least, but Jingliu and Yingxing succumbed to mara, and there was nothing Jing Yuan could do to stop it.
Despite everything Jingliu and Yingxing had done to contribute to the Alliance – their titles and achievements were aptly stripped away and removed from historical records altogether.
With Baiheng dead, Dan Feng forced into molting rebirth, and Yingxing and Jingliu branded as traitors to the Xianzhou; Jing Yuan was left to pick up the pieces of his shattered family.
Jing Yuan will sometimes wonder if the very same fate that befell Jingliu will strike him one day. He will succumb to mara, as does his master. He will go mad and destroy everything that was once familiar to him, as does his master. Yanqing will have to fight him, as did Jing Yuan with Jingliu all those centuries ago. Would his name be erased from history too?
Jing Yuan wonders.
Losing his sanity to the Plague Author’s curse seems much more terrifying than death. At least, in death, he will be at peace. That much was guaranteed.
At his long pause, Fu Xuan fixed her pale, shining eyes towards him.
“You still have a good century or two,” she said quietly, finally making her move. Even with her words backed up with a quick divination any time she pleases, Fu Xuan sounded unsure. It was unbecoming.
Jing Yuan huffs. “There are better people to lead the Luofu than a senile old man. You know that best of all, Lady Fu.”
They played in silence for a few minutes. Several moves later, and it was clear to Jing Yuan who was going to win. He hums, pleased.
Fu Xuan glares at the board as if it had personally offended her.
“You wish to retire.” She sounded accusing.
Jing Yuan wishes she would hear him out. Doesn’t she want to be the next Arbiter-General ? Besides, the Luofu seemed to be running smoothly under her command within those two weeks after the fight with Phantylia during his strict bed rest, courtesy of Lady Bailu .
He holds back a sigh. “I do.”
“And what of your retainer?”
“I have taught Yanqing everything he needs to know.”
“Everything?” Fu Xuan narrowed her eyes.
Jing Yuan was quick to amend his statement. “Most things. He is still young, reckless... but an impressionable child. Eager to please. I have trust that he will learn and blossom further under your tutelage, Lady Fu.”
Fu Xuan’s lips thinned to a line. She moves one of her pieces further up, uncaring of how the game is going now. “I wasn’t aware that the position of Arbiter-General has been reduced to being a glorified babysitter.”
Jing Yuan remains serene, and does not rise to the bait.
“Now, now,” Jing Yuan gently admonished. “Don’t say such outrageous things. You need not to worry much. Yanqing is a brilliant child, and he doesn’t cause as much trouble as I did to my master, at least.”
Jing Yuan seemed invested in the game still as he took down one of her pawns. Fu Xuan sighed.
“Is that supposed to placate me?”
The general turns his smile at her, gentle eyes crinkling to half moons. “Take it as you will.”
Fu Xuan snatched up one of his pieces, yet the general’s smile didn’t falter.
“There’s another reason why you want to retire.” It wasn’t a question. They both know that.
“And pray tell me, Master Diviner,” Jing Yuan sounds amused, “what else is there?”
Fu Xuan leveled her equally golden gaze with Jing Yuan’s. She was not stupid, not at all. The general knows that all too well.
There could only be one person responsible for their general’s sudden want to step down.
A former traitor of the Xianzhou Alliance.
A Nameless who treads the path of Akivili The Trailblaze.
The young man who carries both the face and sins of Jing Yuan’s old friend.
“Dan Heng .”
The widening smile on Jing Yuan’s face says it all.
And Fu Xuan wishes she could be surprised. Alas, Matrix of Prescience or not, it was painfully obvious who brought the bit of light back in the general’s eyes.
Your poor admirers, Fu Xuan thought. Their favorite eligible bachelor is no more.
Miss Tingyun’s side hustle of selling photos of the Luofu’s beloved general has been a wildly successful business venture from what she had seen. Humans , Foxians , and Vidhyadhara alike flock to her stand in Central Starskiff Haven with eager hands and open wallets. Tingyun was all too eager to give it to them for the right price. It was easy money.
Even Stelle bought one. Fu Xuan suspects she keeps it within her phone case for safekeeping.
How did Tingyun even get those pictures?
Or rather, was it Phantylia parading as Tingyun selling pictures of Jing Yuan? Fu Xuan tries not to shudder. She’d rather not know.
She looks at the board, a small furrow between her brows. Now hold on a minute...
Jing Yuan must have misread her silence, because he backtracks, his voice somber. “I am aware that this might be too sudden, but–”
Jing Yuan pauses. Who was he kidding? Of course it was too sudden! It hasn’t even been half a year since Phantylia. As much as he knows how eager Fu Xuan is for his “abdication,” there was still a chance for her to refuse. Especially after a crisis like that, it would be unfair to suddenly dump a mountain of responsibilities over her shoulders.
But it wouldn’t hurt to try and convince her.
“I know the Luofu is in good hands,” Jing Yuan tells the silent Master Diviner. “With you, the rest of the Six Charioteers , and soon enough, Lady Bailu and Yanqing taking leadership, I have nothing to worry about.”
Still, Fu Xuan stays silent, eyeing the board.
“Allow me to be a little selfish, Lady Fu?” Jing Yuan’s smile develops a sad edge to it as he pleads, “I have done my part for seven hundred years, and I wish to fulfill my boyhood dream to explore the stars with my friend for the first time in my life.”
Fu Xuan finally, finally meets his gaze once more, and Jing Yuan braces himself for the likely refusal, but instead all she said was,
“Cloud Knight moves to C3, trapping your king.” The smug little Master Diviner places her piece on the board with finality. “Checkmate, General.”
Jing Yuan was sure he resembled a dragon fish right now. He hadn’t even realized he accidentally left an opening for Fu Xuan to effectively corner him, but he doesn’t care about that right now. “...Does that mean–”
“Oh, honestly!” Fu Xuan rolls her eyes, throwing her dignity worthy of a queen into the wind. “Yes, Jing Yuan. It’s not like people have been wanting to see you settle down since, like, three hundred years ago.”
Jing Yuan grumbles under his breath, though that does not stop the pleased expression blooming on his face. “You sound like my mother.”
Fu Xuan looked horrified. “No.”
Ignoring her as he sometimes tends to do, Jing Yuan inspected the starchess board. “Hmph. You’ve outsmarted me. I’m impressed.”
Checking her nails, Fu Xuan sniffs. “It was not even a proper match,” she complains. “You were distracted.”
“My apologies,” said Jing Yuan, not sounding apologetic at all.
How... irksome. Fu Xuan felt her lips twitch. She was going to miss him. “Was I the first you told?”
“No. Actually, it was Yanqing,” Jing Yuan explained, and Fu Xuan nodded.
It made sense. The young retainer was Jing Yuan’s perhaps most trusted, and would throw a fit if he wasn’t the first to know details of Jing Yuan’s future plans.
“He was upset for a few days, but he understands,” Jing Yuan huffs a soft laugh. “Though he did make me swear to call him at least once every week.”
“Then you better hold on to that promise.”
“I plan to.”
And with that, Jing Yuan cleans up their game, placing each starchess piece in its designated compartment. Fu Xuan lends a casual hand, dropping a handful of pawns into the drawer on her right as they work in companionable silence, the only sounds being the wooden pieces clinking and the occasional cycrane passing by.
As the final piece falls into place, Fu Xuan breaks the quiet, her observation hanging in the air,
“You seem happier these days,” she states the obvious, unable to suppress her candidness. “It suits you.”
Closing the compartments and bringing the game board closer to his chest, Jing Yuan questions, tilting his head, “Lady Fu… are you suggesting that I am unhappy?”
“Please refrain from putting words in my mouth, General,” Fu Xuan told him sharply, unimpressed.
“What I mean is that while you appear content serving Xianzhou, there has always been… a lingering sadness about you. I may be centuries younger, but even I notice the way you grow quiet when the first ginkgo leaves descend in fall.”
Fu Xuan briefly considers reaching out to comfort him, her hand hovering above his, but decides against it, her hands lacing together in front of her.
“Some find happiness in fulfilling their duties, as I do, and perhaps you do to an extent. But it seems you’re not truly as happy as you once were,” she clears her throat, searching for the right words. “Not like before.”
Jing Yuan is silent for a moment, mulling over her words, before a sad smile graces his lips as he looks at Fu Xuan.
“Have I made it obvious?” he wonders.
Fu Xuan answers, her tone measured and quiet, “Not until he returned.”
Jing Yuan laughs, a little bit sad and a little bit broken, tinged with a hint of longing.
“Perhaps you’ve already surpassed me, Master Diviner.”
“You give me too much credit, General.” Fu Xuan’s tone and gaze softens as she regards Jing Yuan, recognizing the vulnerability he is offering. This was no time for her usual snark. “You know… I’m glad you have him.”
Jing Yuan idly traces a vague pattern on the wooden table – a finch taking shape under his absentminded touch.
“And I am glad he came back to me.”