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The toll from being in Jiao Liqiao’s captivity is subtle at first.
Granted, there were other, more important things going on at the time. And by the time the dust settled, the ordeal had been pushed down and locked away in the same corners that his childhood and adolescence had been shoved to.
The mind control bug was gone. Di-zhuren was as good as dead and Di Fortress was rubble. Jiao Liqiao was dead. None of it could hurt him anymore.
And he is the strongest he’s ever been. With only two that could truly, potentially oppose him.
The protégé of his rival is a quick study. With Yangzhouman and Xiangyi’s swordplay handed down to him, and the way he integrates both with his own unique swordplay he will quickly surpass his predecessors.
But not yet.
Di Feisheng still strives to practice the best martial arts he can and every time Fang Duobing comes up with a new maneuver to beat him in spars, the older swordsman just as soon figures out a counter. Of course, then the brat finds a counter for his counter and the cycle repeats.
Still. It’ll be a few years yet. Especially since the master himself is nearly back to his previous health and endurance.
Li Lianhua’s recovery has been a fraught thing. At times feeling hopeless, and backsliding into the previous guilt-ridden mentality where he believes he deserves to die. Other times stubbornly determined, and frustrated with himself when things don’t come as easily as they used to.
They spar as well. And Di Feisheng can tell his husband is almost there. His hits land heavier each time, his speed almost recovered. And the ten years of experience he gained from being more sneaky and more cunning has added new moves to his repertoire.
It’s not the same as he remembers, and in some ways that makes it better.
Li Lianhua is softer in places, his recovery helping in filling out his body once more; new fat and muscle covering the bone. It’s not the same lean, corded frame of his youth, but it fits him better this way. He’s more comfortable in his skin. And it helps that he’s unburdened by lofty ideals – the stress of carrying the entire jianghu’s expectations no longer weighing him down.
(He’s still nosy though, and occasionally involves himself in the odd mystery or two.)
All this to say, Di Feisheng finally feels settled. And with Jinyuan Alliance all but dismantled in Wuyan’s capable hands, he needn’t care or worry about anything beyond Lotus Tower and the next day or so.
Which is why he doesn’t notice at first. The toll.
Looking back, it’s innocuous. Quietly excusing himself when Su Xiaoyong visits. Avoiding Tianji Manor altogether and He Xiaofeng specifically.
But then he stops attending the visits with Princess Zhaoling. The ones Yang Yunchun arranges outside the capital so that her father doesn’t find out Li Lianhua is still alive. He feels disappointed for having missed it when Li Lianhua is relaying the details later, and yet can’t bring himself to go when the next one comes around.
It all comes to head one day as they head home from the market, having bought enough vegetables and meat to restock Lotus Tower’s pantries for the next week. Li Lianhua walks to one side, his chatter about Fang Duobing’s latest case as background noise, and Hulijing trots behind them following the basket of meat he carries.
They pass a group of women giggling over some gossip or another and suddenly the world narrows down to just that sound. His breath freezes in his chest and his vision goes fuzzy at the edges. It lasts a second, a minute, an hour… and then the world snaps back into focus.
He finds his husband standing a few paces ahead with a concerned look that soon turns understanding. At feeling pressure on his legs, he looks down to find Hulijing pawing at him.
Li Lianhua walks back over and says nothing, just links their arms and pulls him along, only releasing him when they’re back in the comforting and familiar confines of their travelling house. He doesn’t press and try to get him to talk, he simply offers him space if he wants it, and Di Feisheng gratefully drapes himself along his husband’s back while he cooks.
Later when they go to bed, Li Lianhua cuddles up to his side and idly traces shapes into the skin of his chest.
“How long have you known?” he finally asks into the silence. Because of course his husband would have noticed first. They know each other too well for something like this to go unnoticed. Li Lianhua also knows he prefers not to talk about things unless he has to, and therefore wouldn’t have pointed it out unless Di Feisheng was the one that mentioned it first.
He can feel Li Lianhua’s mouth twist where it’s pressed to his shoulder. “A while now,” he answers. Di Feisheng swallows. “It wasn’t obvious, at first. You usually let me take the lead when interacting with people, anyway. Social niceties don’t come easily to you whether it’s man or woman, after all.
“Your avoidance of Su Xiaoyong was easily explained away as annoyance. You had little patience for her even when you lost your memories, and her and Xiaobao together are easily overstimulating. And with Tianji Manor I assumed you thought you weren’t welcome after your role in Shan Gudao’s attack.” He waves his hand as he clarifies, “You’ll remember I wasn’t at my best at the time, so I didn’t pay too close of attention in the beginning, and then a pattern had already formed so there was no reason to change the assumption.
“But then you started avoiding Qing’er, and well…”
Di Feisheng sighs and closes his eyes. It’s all laid out so neatly for him, and laughably obvious in hindsight.
“She’s fond of you, you know,” his husband continues. “Despite, or perhaps because of, your gruff exterior. She, like the rest of us, has figured out you’re secretly a big softie deep down. So, she was hurt when you stopped coming. I managed to come up with an excuse the first couple times, but then I realized… Do you remember what happened? The last time you were there, I mean.”
His eyes open slowly and he stares at the wooden ceiling with brows furrowed in thought. “…No?”
“I thought so,” Li Lianhua says softly. He sighs. “You said something – probably roasting Xiaobao’s swordplay or mocking Zijin – and she started laughing. She was in stitches by the end of it, cackling until she was in tears. But I remember looking over and you had gone blank.” An involuntary tremor goes through his body, and his husband rubs his palm from sternum to navel and back. “It was so quick, I forgot about it almost immediately, but you didn’t relax the rest of the day.”
“And then I stopped going altogether.”
“Yeah…,” Li Lianhua confirms with a sigh.
Di Feisheng throws his free arm over his eyes, and tries to hide the tears that threaten to spill. “She’s been dead for years, why now?”
Li Lianhua props himself up on an elbow, pulling his husband’s arm away from his face. “You’ve been dealing with it all this time, you just didn’t realize yet. Now that you are aware, you can figure out how to actually deal with it.” Di Feisheng’s eyes shine wetly in the darkness. “A’Fei, these things take time, and after what she did to you – what she was planning to do to you – no one would expect you to be perfectly okay right after.
“I’m haunted by my own share of things, too, and you don’t expect me to just get over it.”
“That’s different,” he says almost reflexively.
Li Lianhua huffs. “It’s exactly the same. Shan Gudao is dead –“
“The person that poisoned you still lives,” Di Feisheng counters.
“ – and I killed the love of my life at sea, and now he’s my husband,” he finishes without missing a beat.
Di Feisheng’s gaze snaps to his husband. LI Lianhua looks on with nothing but love and understanding in those eyes and he can feel himself melt a little. All these years later, he doesn’t know why he bothers trying to hide from him; there’s no one that knows him better.
Li Lianhua leans down to kiss him, soft and lingering. “You’ve been patient with me, so be patient with yourself,” he says when he pulls away.
“Am I just supposed to avoid all the women in our life now?” he asks sarcastically. “Because I can’t handle hearing them laugh?”
His husband looks amused for a moment, then thoughtful. “You haven’t been.”
“What?”
“You haven’t been avoiding all of them,” Li Lianhua explains. “You and A’Mian get along surprisingly well, and her laugh is soft in comparison. Of course she’s busy with Sigu Sect, so we don’t visit often. And Shi Shui is in the same boat with Baichuan Court.
“We could go stay with my shiniang for a while though?” he offers.
Di Feisheng ponders that for a little bit. Qin Po has become fond of her disciple’s husband, and had basically adopted him when she found out about them. She was the one that had insisted on a proper ceremony, and Yunyin Mountain has almost become a second home to them.
She’s a no-nonsense woman that will tease and gently scold in good humor, but he can’t remember ever hearing her laugh.
She’s safe, is the important thing.
“Okay,” he answers, finally.
Li Lianhua raises his eyebrows. “Okay?” With another affirming nod, he smiles and kisses his husband again. “Okay,” he says, settling back down into Di Feisheng’s side. “I’ll send her a letter in the morning, to let her know we’re coming. …And I’ll send Xiaobao one, too. In case he wonders where we’ve gone.”