Chapter Text
He hadn’t been in this much pain since before he ascended. His whole body hurt of course, but that was nothing compared to the agony he felt inside his chest and inside his head.
He had just done something a little crazy. He was having a hard time remembering the details; they were nearby but just out of reach, like fluttering butterflies or lantern lights.
He gazed out the hole above him at the sky, wondering if it made any sense that he was probably inside the skull of a giant sea creature at the moment. That couldn’t be right. But the possibility was enough of a distraction to keep him from looking over at whatever was lying beside him. His mind, grasping helplessly for recollection of recent events, was still turning his attention away from that; his eyes and neck could feel the urgent resistance any time he tried. It was a strange sensation, but he didn’t fight it very much.
Eventually he stopped fighting the urge to close his eyes and rest, too.
~
His eyes shot open, moments or hours later, and Quan Yizhen immediately remembered what – who – was there next to him. He quickly sat up, ignoring the screaming protests of his blistered skin and the muscles and tendons under it, to find a figure in black bent over his shixiong’s body.
“Don’t touch him…!” he shouted, or tried to; his throat ached like fire too. He threw himself over the body and glared up at the stranger who had stepped back and was now looming ominous and tall above him.
Not a stranger, he realized then. “Don’t you touch him,” he repeated through gritted teeth, nearly a snarl. “You kill gods and you eat ghosts.”
Black Water Sinking Ships gave him a long look with dark, unfathomable eyes. Quan Yizhen tried not to squirm. “He’s already dead, so I can’t kill him,” he finally said, voice disturbingly flat. “And his soul and blood are gone; there’s nothing for me to eat.”
He threw the Ghost King a baleful look. Was that meant to be reassuring?
Unfazed by Quan Yizhen’s glare, Black Water nodded at Yin Yu’s body and said, “What happened to him.” He didn’t sound particularly concerned and only mildly curious.
Quan Yizhen shook his head, not even wanting to think about it. “I don’t know,” he choked out.
“You weren’t there?”
“No, I was, but—”
“Then what happened.” The Ghost King’s tone wasn’t so disinterested suddenly. He pronounced each word precisely and with thinly veiled impatience. His black eyes were cold, but intense.
“The Heavenly Emperor, he attacked me and then he—” He tried to swallow around the grief. “And then he killed my shixiong…!”
“How.”
This was too much. He didn’t want to talk about it. He barely understood what he’d seen and heard. But Black Water just continued to stand there and stare at him, so he made the whispered effort. “The shackle on his wrist, it pulled the life out of him. I don’t know how. Then the Emperor took it.” He felt the anger rising again, hotter than the pain. “I tried fighting him again but he was too strong.” He lowered his head, the feeling of shame unfamiliar and horrible. “I don’t know what happened after that.”
“You lost to the Heavenly Emperor twice and you’re still alive?” Black Water sounded stunned, and maybe a bit impressed.
“You don’t have to remind me…!” Quan Yizhen shouted back at him, gathering his shixiong’s body into his arms, the only solace he had now. The way Yin Yu’s head rested so perfectly against the bridge of Quan Yizhen’s shoulder hurt more than the burns on his skin did, but he didn’t let go.
“What was Waning Moon doing up there with you in the first place?” The tone was cool and logical, but the words themselves were like a strike to Quan Yizhen’s chest. “Crimson Rain Sought Flower wouldn’t have sent him there to help you.”
“Well he did help me,” Quan Yizhen mumbled, heart aching as he clutched Yin Yu closer. What was the point of all these questions? They were only making this nightmare worse. If only he had been stronger, had more spiritual power to give, his shixiong’s plan would have worked and they would have been safe together. He bit his lip until it bled, hating this feeling of powerlessness. He wished his shixiong could pat him on the shoulder, on the head, like he used to, and tell him everything would be all right.
Then he remembered Black Water was standing there, grim and silent, and he realized how inappropriate it was for him to be holding Yin Yu like this. “He said he hated me,” he murmured as he gently set his shixiong down, just needing to say it to someone, to try to make it make sense.
“Doesn’t he?” Black Water replied, unexpectedly.
“I don’t know!” Quan Yizhen cried in frustration. “He tried to protect me, didn’t he?!”
“Hating someone doesn’t necessitate wishing them harm,” Black Water snapped.
The reply was almost immediate and left Quan Yizhen startled speechless. He wasn’t sure, he wasn’t great with fancy phrases, but he thought his shixiong might have said something like that, too.
The words seemed to anger Black Water, despite his having said them himself. Brow dark and jaw firm, he suddenly knelt beside Yin Yu again and began to do something complicated over him with a stream of spiritual power.
“What are you doing…?!” Quan Yizhen shouted, panicking.
“I’m placing a protective spell on him,” Black Water answered sharply, voice suddenly, oddly, putting Quan Yizhen in mind of his shifu, “and you’re going to pay attention while I do it. Because if the Crown Prince and Crimson Rain are able to get that cursed shackle back, there’s a chance Waning Moon can be revived.”
The breath caught painfully in his throat. He wasn’t sure he had heard that right. “You mean we can bring Shixiong back?!”
“We can’t,” Black Water said, voice full of scorn. “But Crimson Rain might. And it will be a complicated process.” His dark eyes shot up to Quan Yizhen. “Don’t expect it to be as simple as punching things to death.”
He knew he was being insulted, but the hope that had surged unexpectedly in his chest made Quan Yizhen temporarily indifferent to that. “Show me,” he demanded, with all the determination that Qi Ying was known for.