Chapter Text
“There you are!” Xingqiu said with polite cheerfulness as he neatly folded the receipt against the first page of the book and pushed it across the desk. “Make sure to return it on time.”
The other student nodded and quickly slid the heavy book into their backpack before walking away to let the only other person move to the front of the line – a person who had empty hands.
“Yun Jin!” Xingqiu greeted her, his smile widening.
The younger son of the CEO of Feiyun Commerce Inc. obviously wasn’t in the type of financial straits to need this part-time job at his college’s library. He’d told his parents that he thought a part-time job was good real-world experience before he eventually went on to join the family business. He’d told them that he wanted any sort of hands-on employment, and when he suggested the alternative of dishwashing at the college cafeteria, they’d immediately agreed that working in the library was preferable. It was a bit funny to him that they thought their coddled, precious child might be too delicate for that sort of menial work. Not that he would have minded too much, either way. No matter the option, it was time away from his classes, which was precious time indeed.
That being said, working in the library had quite a few advantages. For example, having plenty of time to daydream and chat with his friends when they chose to drop by.
“The musical auditions are over already? How’d it go?” Xingqiu asked, clearing away some books from the desk.
“I think it went well,” Yun Jin replied with measured optimism, taking a quick sip from her pink water bottle tastefully adorned by stickers with traditional Chinese motifs. “The songs were fine and I didn’t mess up any of the dance steps. I think I might have a shot at a main role this year.”
“I’ll look forward to seeing the cast list,” Xingqiu said and gestured towards one of the seats next to him. “Come on, sit down.”
Yun Jin sat down, dropping her backpack lightly as she leaned a little closer, a frown deepening between her brows. “But how about you? Are you doing all right?”
She tapped gently at her undereyes, hinting at the dark circles under Xingqiu’s eyes. “Classes treating you okay?”
Xingqiu scoffed but somehow he looked sheepish. He knew the dark circles weren't the only signs betraying his imperfect condition; he'd recently been struck by the magnificent idea at 3am to give his hair a trim and now he had bangs that could only be described as wretched. “When have you ever known classes to give me trouble? No, it’s not that, it’s-”
He was interrupted as another student came up with some books they wanted to check out. “Sorry, give me one second,” he said to Yun Jin, who nodded understandingly. Xingqiu quickly took care of the student and sent them off on their way.
“It’s?” Yun Jin prompted once they were alone again.
“Right, it’s just…the writing isn’t going well.”
Yun Jin and Xingqiu were both from wealthy families and their parents knew each other. They had similar backgrounds, similar academic track records, and went to the same college now. The difference lay in the fact that Yun Jin’s family approved of her artistic endeavors. They didn’t mind that Yun Jin was extremely interested in music history and was determinedly pursuing a music major. It wasn’t the same for Xingqiu. It wasn’t that Xingqiu disliked economics in particular – at least as far as schoolwork was concerned, he was good at it and found it reasonably engaging. But every once in a while, he wanted to retreat into his own world, and that world was his writing.
He didn’t have any delusions that he was writing anything great. He wasn’t going to write an amazing masterpiece of ingenuity that would go on to enthrall generations to come. But it was fun, and it was a brief respite from the demands of his daily life.
That was the reason why Xingqiu, or rather, “DreamingJade,” had begun to write a collection of stories on Archive of Our Own, tied together into a series known as A Legend of Sword. It was original content and for that reason, he’d never expected many people to read it – much as he wished that they would. It was mainly for himself, after all. Inside of his drafts, he was free to create worlds and characters unbounded by reality. His family would never see it, so he'd never have to feel ashamed about the fantastical nonsense tales that he spun. That reason alone was enough to keep him writing for years.
Or rather, it had been.
Recently, Xingqiu felt as if nothing he’d written needed to be written. The words flowed, albeit drearily and meaninglessly. The narrative meandered and the threads of his plot that seemed so grand before now seemed shallow and flawed. He couldn’t stop writing, worried that he would disappoint his small audience. Sure, no one was forcing him to do it; the only one forcing himself to write was himself as he continued writing feverishly, though he enjoyed it less and less. It was even worse when readers compared his work to another original series known as Onibudou. They complained that Xingqiu’s stories had terrible pacing when he was preoccupied with waxing eloquent for paragraphs about the mental state of characters no one cared about. He cared about them! It was very important to the plot! His commenters disagreed. His writing lacked the thrill of the action sequences in Onibudou, with the unending onslaught of threats and exciting new skills the main character learned.
Xingqiu didn’t think he’d care that much. As time went on, however, it was more and more difficult to push himself to continue A Legend of Sword. There weren’t many people in whom he could confide his creative struggles. Yun Jin was the exception. She and Xingqiu had met at a party in college and fallen deep into a discussion of musical history since he wanted to pick her brain for some potential inspiration for one of his chapters. From then on, she was friend, confidante, and co-conspirator in hiding Xingqiu's secret.
“I don’t have anything to write anymore. I’m washed up,” Xingqiu lamented. “I finished a chapter last night and this morning I reread it and deleted the whole thing. It just wasn’t what people liked about the series to begin with, I think. It's not even what I like. I don't have that feeling any longer.”
“Hm…” Yun Jin hummed gently. “Don’t you think you’re overthinking it a bit? It’s not like you to be so exacting on these things.”
“Maybe,” Xingqiu said noncommittally, clearly unconvinced. It wasn’t that he didn’t recognize the well-meaning intentions behind her words. It simply didn’t help that these were all arguments he’d tried on himself in the past, that he no longer believed.
“Well, why don’t you try writing something totally different? It might be a good change of scenery, so to speak,” Yun Jin suggested. “You can return to your original series with a fresh mindset.”
“I…I guess. I haven’t really thought about any other types of stories,” Xingqiu began hesitantly. “To come up with something new…I’d have to put a lot of thought into that first.”
“Have you heard of NaNoWriMo?” Yun Jin asked and he nodded, so she continued, “Well, it’s almost November. Why don’t you take advantage of it? It doesn’t have to be official or anything. Set that goal for yourself and just write.”
Xingqiu let out a long sigh. He didn’t mean to whine, but he simply wasn’t sure it would help him out of this creativity rut. “Okay, let’s say I do it. What would I even write about?”
“That’s the beauty of it, isn’t it?” Yun Jin beamed. “You can be inspired by anything around you. Anything in your classes, your extracurriculars, your family, your friends – the possibilities are endless. You’re a creative person, Xingqiu. You’ll come up with something.”
“I don’t know, I-”
“What’s got you two looking so serious?”
A familiar voice jolted Xingqiu out of his train of thought and his cheeks colored as his mind rapidly searched for an excuse.
Chongyun approached the desk with a smile, though he looked from Yun Jin to Xingqiu with a look of mild concern.
“It’s nothing. Just stressed about a class project,” Xingqiu said quickly, brushing a hand through his bangs in a futile attempt to look more presentable. It wasn’t as if Chongyun would know any better and suspect Xingqiu didn't have any such class projects; Chongyun was a physics major and their classes had almost no overlap.
Yun Jin said nothing, only glancing down at her neatly folded hands. She’d mentioned in the past that she didn’t think it was so bad if Xingqiu let others in on his little secret. It wasn’t any sort of huge scandal, after all. And if Xingqiu thought as highly of Chongyun as he did, well…In any case, it wasn’t her business. She'd never let it slip if Xingqiu didn't want to tell anyone.
There was an awkward silence but as was entirely expected, Chongyun didn’t question Xingqiu's excuse. His clear blue eyes plainly showed nothing more than worry and sympathy.
“Oh…Are you really busy? Gaming, Xiangling, and I were thinking of getting a few of us together this weekend for a little Halloween party. It’s a bit early,” he said, almost apologetically, “but we figured most of us are done with midterms by now and it seemed like a good time to celebrate. And you too, of course, Yun Jin.”
“Not too busy,” Xingqiu said, a little too quickly.
“I’d love to,” Yun Jin agreed.
“Great!” Chongyun grinned and fumbled for his phone, almost dropping it in his haste. Luckily for him, it was protected by a durable case, though it was clearly a bit worn. “Let me add you both to the group chat. Hold on…”
Xingqiu’s phone buzzed with a notification and he saw that he’d successfully been added.
“Okay, cool. All the details will be there, so you can just check it out when you have time,” Chongyun said, shoving his phone back into his pocket.
There was another pause as Xingqiu and Chongyun stared at each other, as if they each wanted to say something, yet neither of them seemed able to find any words to say.
Yun Jin coughed quietly and both of them jumped guiltily.
“D-Did you have a book to return?” Xingqiu asked, shuffling a few papers on his desk.
“N-ye-well, no,” Chongyun stammered. “I mean, your shift is almost over, right? I was coming back from the lab so I thought we could grab dinner together.”
“Oh, yeah, you’re right,” Xingqiu said as coolly as he could. They lived in the same dormitory so it was a reasonable thing to do. “I still have twenty minutes, though…”
Yun Jin stood up. “You can wait here, Chongyun. I’m actually getting really hungry after the audition, so I’d better head back to my dorm for an early dinner.”
“Ah, right!” Chongyun exclaimed. “I’m sure you did really well, but good luck anyway!”
Yun Jin smiled graciously. “Well, I can’t take it for granted and there were a lot of talented students there today. Fingers crossed, though, and thanks.” She shouldered her backpack and gave them another wave before leaving the library.
Chongyun let out a subconscious sigh of relief and sat down in the chair. Xingqiu sent him a sidelong glance before looking back at his own work in front of him. Chongyun opened his backpack and rummaged among its contents for a moment before pulling out a book for one of his electives. He didn’t want to seem hyper-aware of Xingqiu, and this was a decent distraction.
More precisely, it was a successful distraction for about five minutes.
“What are you reading?” Xingqiu asked, straightening up and turning to face him fully.
“Water Margin,” Chongyun said, holding up the book so that Xingqiu could see. “It’s for my Chinese literature elective.”
Xingqiu recognized it, of course. It was a classic work of historical fiction dating from the Ming dynasty filled with outlaws and anti-heroes who rebelled against the government. In spite of their ideals and valor, their story ended in bittersweet tragedy. “I didn’t think you’d be interested in that sort of thing.”
Chongyun dropped the book slightly and when their eyes met, Xingqiu involuntarily covered his mouth with his fingertips, worried that his words had come out sounding rude. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” he clarified before Chongyun got the wrong idea. “It just seems a lot more fanciful than other stuff you’re into. That’s really cool, though. I read it a long time ago even though my parents always said it wasn’t for kids. Maybe I should reread it.”
“You’ve read it?” Chongyun said in surprise. “I guess that makes sense…You and Yun Jin are always into these really cultural and artistic works. But I’m still capable of appreciating them, too,” he said with a rueful smile.
Xingqiu chuckled gently. “I don’t doubt it.”
How was it possible for him to continue discovering admirable traits in Chongyun? Chongyun, who seemed so analytical and thoughtful, so levelheaded and logical when it came to his studies. Who’d ever think he was so open-minded when it came to the irrational and obscene? He was full of delightful surprises.
Xingqiu shook his head at himself. He shouldn’t be thinking this way about the other boy in front of him. It was as cringeworthy as crushing on fictional characters – because Xingqiu sure felt as strongly about Chongyun as he did about them. It was mortifying if he allowed himself to think about it for too long, and that was precisely why he stopped thinking about it when he found himself dwelling on it.
He packed away his belongings, seeing that the library was closing and the other staff members were closing down and gesturing to him that it was fine to leave. His shift was finally over and his stomach was beginning to growl.
“God, I’m hungry. Let’s go.”