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Chapter Text

It was a miracle that after everything their son had had to go through at his tender age, he hadn't fallen ill.

At least, that was what Miaomiao and Ruyu had been telling each other two weeks ago.

Now though, they couldn't help but wonder if they had jinxed it.

At first, it had only been a small cough. Miaomiao and Ruyu had been the appropriate levels of concerned for such an apparently small matter- making sure the food and water Zhen Yan had was always warm, and telling Zhen Yan and Zishu to make sure Zhen Yan wore enough layers and to come home before sunset, when the sun's warmth could no longer combat the cool winds of the night.

It was probably good that Zhen Yan came home before sunset anyway.

But then Zhen Yan's cough had developed into a fever. Miaomiao had noticed this over breakfast one day, when the 5-year-old's face was redder than average and he seemed too sleepy for how early he had gone to bed the night before. The silly child had still insisted that he was fine, he had promised Zishu Ge-ge he would skip stones with him by the lake... Miaomiao shook her head fondly as she helped her husband tuck Zhen Yan back into bed. Thankfully Zishu had been understanding too, telling Zhen Yan that the lake and stones would always be there- and Shidi needed his arm strength back to help his stones soar far and wide.

If there were no underlying issues, most feverish children in their care went back to normal after a day, two if the fever was particularly stubborn. Zhen Yan had no underlying issues, they knew this as his parents... so the fact that he was still ill after five days was making them and his soon-to-be shifu Huaizhang really worried.

"How is Yan-er now?" Huaizhang asked upon seeing the couple emerge from the hut they currently lived in.

Ruyu frowned. "No worse than yesterday, but no better either," he replied. "Thankfully he's not delirious, but he still can't get up from bed, and he still regularly complains of dizziness and bursts into coughing fits. He also threw up again earlier."

"Is it the stress?" Huaizhang guessed. Seeing Zhen Yan like this was making him think of when Zishu had first arrived at the Siji Manor... he had fallen ill too, calling for his parents, his friend Jing Beiyuan and his cousin Helian Yi in his feverish sleep. At the time, Huaizhang had asked Ruyu to look at him, and Ruyu had concluded that the cause was extreme duress. Being torn away from his parents and everything he knew with barely an explanation, not knowing if his immediate family was dead or alive... yeah that would cause some stress.

Much like Zhen Yan's recent experiences would cause stress.

"That's definitely a factor," Miaomiao agreed, her heart aching for her son at the thought. Poor Yan-er must have been subconsciously holding it in while they had been on the road, so he didn't cause trouble for Mom or Dad... such a silly kid.

Ruyu sighed. "If only he would let us help him," he murmured. "I don't even know where he got that from- Miaomiao and I were pretty good with taking our medicine as kids."

Indeed, unlike Zishu, Zhen Yan refused to take his medicine no matter how they coaxed him... or more accurately, he had taken it, then immediately spat it out because "it tastes worse than poison" and refused to open his mouth for anything afterwards. When the symptoms had still been mild, Huaizhang had even had the audacity to laugh, the bastard- said he'd never thought he'd see the day the Divine Hand Couple were stumped by a common cold.

After the fever had persisted for three days, Huaizhang's amusement had turned to worry.

"Ah well, all kids hate bitter things," he now pointed out. "Even Zishu isn't fond of them- he doesn't refuse them, but he makes a face every time-"

"Shifu!"

"Ah- speaking of," Huaizhang greeted. "Zishu, back from collecting wood?"

Zishu nodded. He looked around, the enthusiasm on his face fading. "Uh... is Zhen Yan still not well?" he asked.

Huaizhang shook his head.

"...oh."

The signs were subdued- the slight downwards curve of his mouth, the small drop in his tone, and the drooping of his shoulders an inch more than the firewood would cause them to. But these were all noticed by the adults in the clearing, who had learned to read the unusually stoic disciple. Clearly they weren't the only ones worried about Zhen Yan.

And no wonder, they reflected. Ever since the boys had been introduced at the farm, they had only grown closer each day. They had all been worried that Zhen Yan might be too active and loud for Zishu, or that Zishu might be too serious and boring for Zhen Yan, but it seemed that they balanced each other out well enough. Zishu Ge-ge was at least half of what Zhen Yan talked about these days, if not more, and the way Zishu indulged his shidi by carrying him around on his back and making him little wooden grasshoppers couldn't be ignored.

Miaomiao smiled suddenly- in that subtle, charming way that told Ruyu she had an idea.

"Zishu," Miaomiao began, kneeling down so she and the young boy were at eye level. "Would you like to help your shidi get better?"

Zhen Yan hated being sick.

His throat felt dry no matter how much water he drank, he missed being able to talk normally, and he hated the feeling of vomit always lurking at the back of his throat. The world was a blur, and his head felt way heavier than it had any right to be as blood added to its weight...

"Zhen Yan?"

A jolt ran through him, and Zhen Yan sat up at once, all his misery and self-pity forgotten. He waved joyfully and called, "Zishu Ge-!"

He was cut off by a coughing fit.

A hand soon landed on his back, gentle and almost hesitant. There was a warmth emanating from the soft flesh, and Zhen Yan quickly realized it was internal energy- Zishu Ge-ge was giving him internal energy in the hopes that it would help him breathe.

He reached up and grabbed Zishu's arm. "You don't have much yourself," he managed. "Yan-er is fine."

Zishu paused, then nodded and lowered his hand. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Fine!"

Zishu frowned as a softer cough racked Zhen Yan's tiny body. "Shidi should not lie," he scolded.

"Okay, okay. You're right, I feel miserable," Zhen Yan complained, giving in to the torture chamber that was currently his body. "Nothing feels right... I barely remember what being healthy feels like anymore. Why can't I just stay asleep until this is over...?"

"Because that's gonna make you feel even more dizzy. You've just caught a cold- Shifu and your parents said it's not a difficult illness to cure, especially with the kind of skills your parents have. Just hold on tight until then." A pause. "Stay still."

Zhen Yan hummed contently, letting Zishu move him so his back was leaning against the headboard.

Zishu offered a small bottle to Zhen Yan. "For you."

"What is it?" Zhen Yan asked, examining it curiously. The bottle was too small and made of thick clay- he couldn't see what was inside clearly. It looked like it was dark in color, and it sloshed around like liquid...

An idea occurred to him.

"Treacle?" he guessed, his eyes shining. "Is it sweet?"

Zishu nodded.

Zhen Yan grinned, downed it eagerly...

And regretted it as soon as the bitter taste hit his tongue.

Before he could spit out what must be that horrid medicine his parents kept trying to force on him, however, Zishu covered Zhen Yan's mouth with his hand, stopping him.

Zhen Yan shot Zishu a wide-eyed look of betrayal.

When that failed to move his shixiong, Zhen Yan reluctantly swallowed the medicine. Maybe it was because he'd been having a harder time with taste and smell lately, but it wasn't as bad as he remembered- but there was no way he was admitting that out loud.

As soon as Zishu removed his hand, Zhen Yan burst out angrily, "Zhou Zishu!! You lied to me!!"

"I'm sorry, but you were refusing to take your medicine, we had no-"

"I'm gonna tell Mom!!"

That bold declaration became somewhat less impressive when Zhen Yan's attempt to get out of bed became an ungraceful splat on the ground.

"Eh, Zhen Yan!" Zishu was by his side at once, a hand ready to help him up. "Zhen Yan, are you okay?"

"I'm gonna tell Mom!!" Zhen Yan repeated stubbornly, shaking Zishu off and shooting him a glare. He tried to get to his feet, but his head became dizzy as soon as he stood upright, and he barely managed three steps before he fell on his face again.

Zishu sighed and picked Zhen Yan up, kneeling on the ground in front of the younger boy and wrapping his arms around his own neck.

"What are you doing, put me down!!"

"Since you insist on going to Aunt Miaomiao even though you can't walk by yourself, I have to carry you. Hold still now, don't make me drop you."

Zishu really did carry Zhen Yan to the front yard, where Miaomiao and Ruyu were sitting with Huaizhang.

"MOM!!"

Upon seeing the two boys, the conversation stopped, and Miaomiao asked, "Yan-er? What's wrong?"

"Mom, Zishu Ge-ge lied to me!! He said it'd be sweet, but it was so bitter!! He lied to me!!"

Miaomiao looked at Zishu, who was still carrying Zhen Yan on his back.

The 7-year-old boy gave her a helpless, long-suffering look in return.

Huaizhang burst out laughing.

"Shifu!" Zishu protested.

"Zishu, put... put Yan-er down first," the master of the Siji Manor managed between gasps and tears of laughter. "Oh my god..."

Zishu obliged. He had to bite back a chuckle himself when Zhen Yan pointedly turned around, cheeks puffed up in a pout, but didn't take so much as a step away from Zishu.

Ruyu smacked Huaizhang in the arm. "Just you wait," he retorted with a smile on his face. "Just you wait until Jiuxiao gets to Yan-er's age, and we'll see who's laughing then."

"Ah... that's not gonna be for ages," Huaizhang replied, wiping his eyes. "Ruyu, Miaomiao... your son really is too amazing."

Miaomiao giggled behind her hand, and Ruyu nodded, turning his gaze to Zhen Yan. "We know," he agreed, a chuckle in every word. "Yan-er really is a special little kid."

Zhen Yan, meanwhile, was staring at them in bewilderment. He had expected Zishu Ge-ge to be scolded at least a little for lying (though hopefully not too harshly or Zhen Yan would feel guilty). Why were Mom, Dad and Shifu laughing instead?

"Ah- Yan-er, you silly child," Miaomiao pacified. "This was Mom's idea- Zishu Ge-ge was worried about you, so Mom asked him to help you get better. Don't be mad at him, okay?"

Zhen Yan stared up at Miaomiao with wide eyes.

Then he puffed up his cheeks and in a pout and sat on the ground with his back to everyone.

Ever the helpful friend, Huaizhang remarked, "Great. Now your son is mad at you as well."

Miaomiao glared at him.

"Eh, Yan-er," Ruyu tried, getting up and stumbling his way to in front of the boy. "Everyone needs to take medicine when they're ill. You wanna get better, right? If you wanna get better you gotta be a good boy and take your medicine."

"Mom and Dad have never taken medicine."

"What do you mean we've never taken medicine, what do you think the ointment I keep putting on my wrists and ankles is for?"

Zhen Yan opened his mouth, but something passed through his eyes and he looked away. He seemed a lot more subdued and upset now... Ruyu wondered if it had been such a good idea to bring up the injuries his own shifu had inflicted on him after all.

"Yan-er," Huaizhang called from where he was sitting. "Medicine is only for sick people. Your parents have never been sick, of course they've never taken medicine. You on the other hand- you've been coughing for over a week and you have a fever, do you dare tell us you're not ill?"

"..."

"Shidi, how about this?" Zishu suggested. "Later this week, Shifu will have some business in town, and he's gonna take me with him. There's a market with all kinds of nice things in town- to make up for today, I'll bring something sweet back for you."

Zhen Yan eyed Zishu suspiciously.

"Really! This time I won't lie to you!"

"...promise?"

Zishu smiled and linked their pinkies together. "Promise."

Zishu did end up giving Zhen Yan candy after he returned.

Zhen Yan had grinned widely when he tasted the sweetness, even snuggling into Zishu's side. It seemed that Zishu had been forgiven- or in fact, Zhen Yan had forgiven him ages ago, only pouting out of stubbornness and refusal to give in.

After the tragedy that took that sweet little boy and his family away from the Siji Manor, the only shidi Zishu was responsible for taking care of personally was Qin Jiuxiao. And though Jiuxiao would fuss and whine and complain, he would eventually, with obvious reluctance, let his Shixiong spoon-feed him his medicine when he was sick.

And so Zishu never had to try this trick again.

...until twenty years later.

Chapter Text

All was quiet by the lakeside when Zishu suddenly jolted awake.

Usually, this was the sign of a nightmare, or those godforsaken Nails bothering him again. It had been one of the two for years now, after all, since the slow seeping doubt had begun worming its way into Zishu's guilty conscience. Why would tonight be any different?

...actually, no, scratch that. There was a reason tonight would be different.

Zishu looked to his side.

Sleeping there was his companion, Wen Kexing- or Lao Wen, as he had so impulsively called him at the coffin home earlier. It didn't feel right to take back the nickname, now that he had let it slip, so Zishu supposed that the clingy, flirtatious man was Lao Wen from here on out.

He had made sure to keep quiet about his own condition, made sure that Lao Wen didn't see the Nails doing their work- he hadn't even let the man touch him before tonight, when the wound on his back had needed cleaning. And yet this man had to be a doctor experienced with the martial arts world, because Lao Wen had still noticed he was suffering from some grievous internal injury and insisted on playing the music of a healer for him. This had worked, and so Lao Wen had often become the cause of Zishu's peaceful sleep.

But tonight, he was the cause of Zishu's wakefulness.

Zishu stared across the lake, recalling the scene at the coffin home.

He couldn't deny that ever since he had left Tian Chuang, he had let his playful side slip out more- maybe because he was no longer the leader of anything, or even the eldest disciple, and his words and actions from now on only reflected on the man Zhou Zishu. First it had slipped out at the Jinghu Sect, then at the coffin home... something in Lao Wen's cheerful, almost naive expression had made Zishu wanna play a trick on him. Or maybe that same expression had meant Zishu couldn't bring himself to injure the man, even if it would have been for his own good.

Either way, instead of drawing blood like he had done to himself, Zishu had picked out one of the many medicines he kept on his person- force of habit- and given it to Lao Wen.

"What is it? Treacle? Is it sweet?"

That had been the first thing out of the man's mouth, and it had thrown Zishu for a loop for a brief second. His mind had jumped to a time when he had been much younger, hearing the exact same words from the boy on the bed, skin flushed from a particularly stubborn fever and tiny body racked with a cough. He had even felt guilt and fondness in quick succession- guilt for lying to his little shidi, and fondness for knowing that even when the younger was mad about the transgression, he hadn't take so much as a step away from him.

Zishu had shaken himself rudely, reminding himself that Zhen Yan was gone- he had been gone for twenty years now- and tried to concentrate on waking his companion up.

Lao Wen's next words had made that impossible.

"Zhou Zishu, you lied to me!! I'm gonna tell Mom!!"

Just like all those years ago, the person he had tricked into taking medicine had tried to spit it out the second he'd realized he'd been had. Just like all those years ago, Zishu had immediately covered the person's mouth to stop him from spitting out what was meant to help him.

And just like all those years ago, the person had accused Zhou Zishu of lying to him and declared that he was gonna tell on him to Mom.

If Lao Wen had stumbled on the doorframe and fallen flat on his face, maybe it would have taken longer for Zishu to snap himself out of his memories and scold himself for acting like he hadn't woken up from Drunk Like a Dream yet. As things had played out, Kexing had needed no assistance whatsoever, so Zishu had stood there, scolding himself for being unable to put down his memories when they were still in danger.

And then it had occurred to him.

Lao Wen had blurted out his real name, even though Zishu had never once given it to him- even though he didn't even know what his real face looked like. Somehow, Lao Wen knew him- knew his real identity - and A-Xu had simply been him playing along.

The next logical thought for Zishu to have was to chase down Lao Wen and demand to know how he had recognized him. And even though Zishu had dismissed that thought as soon as it had taken shape, reminding himself that Lao Wen hadn't been seeing reality, it quickly occurred to him that he shouldn't be letting a drugged Wen Kexing run around a coffin home full of drug men.

So he had chased after him anyway.

After that, with his mind occupied by the danger of the drug men and the mystery of the fake Hanging Ghost, there had been no space for Zishu to think about Lao Wen and his past.

But his subconscious clearly hadn't forgotten that brief mix-up, because Zishu's dream tonight had been... confusing, at best.

It had started at the farm, Zhen Yan complaining about his cold and Zishu tricking him into taking his medicine. But after Zishu had resignedly heaved Zhen Yan onto his back and gone outside, he hadn't found himself facing the front yard of that old farm. Instead, a horde of drug men had been waiting, the bell ringing in his ears... he seemed to have grown up in the span of seconds too, because the person on his back was not Zhen Yan, but Lao Wen, asking his mom to carry him. As Zishu had run from the danger, things had only grown more confusing, the roars of the drug men blending into the barking of dogs and the waterfall at the back of the Siji Manor. And the voice on his back... sometimes it had been Zhen Yan, alternating between complaining that Zishu had lied to him and calling to him for help, fear in every syllable. And sometimes, Zhen Yan's voice had turned into Lao Wen's, Zishu Ge-ge turning into A-Xu without losing that terror, that plea for help...

Zishu had then jolted awake abruptly, not knowing where his dream self and that mix of Zhen Yan and Lao Wen had been running to.

Thinking about this too hard was making Zishu's head spin, so he lay down on his back again, letting a sigh escape his lungs.

The new angle allowed him to see the small silver box they had obtained from the fake Hanging Ghost. As Zishu had picked it up to fiddle with, Lao Wen had remarked that it was the Soul-Winding Box, and that the Hanging Ghost's death had caused this treasure to fall into their hands. He seemed to have believed the ruse at the coffin home that the man they had faced was the real Hanging Ghost, only presenting another reason he thought the Hanging Ghost must be dead after Zishu had pointed out their foe that night had been too young.

On the surface, this made sense. A random wanderer in the martial arts world would have no reason to be able to tell the difference, especially if he had never heard of the Hanging Ghost's backstory before. Why would a self-proclaimed "philanthropist" want anything to do with the Ghost Valley, whose evil deeds had earned it a rotten reputation?

But if years of being the leader of Tian Chuang and Prince Jin's most prized spy had taught Zishu anything, it was how to catch someone in a lie.

If Lao Wen really hadn't known enough to tell that the Hanging Ghost was a fake, how had he been able to identify the Ghost's signature item at a glance? Why had he been so sure it was the real thing, and not a fake like the man who had been wielding it? And how did he know enough about the Ghost's treasure to warn Zishu about its self-destructive properties?

That was why he didn't trust the smiles Lao Wen threw at him, the flirtations that conveniently left no room for any real answers, the laughs before he answered pretty much any question of importance, the words he spoke so slowly the few times he had to give an actual answer. These were all tactics of avoidance, signs of nervousness- granted flirting was an unusual tactic, but then again Lao Wen was an unusual man. Add that to Lao Wen's clearly above average skills and how quick he had been to silence the fake Hanging Ghost...

Lao Wen was hiding something.

Tonight had helped Zishu determine that Lao Wen was not after the Glazed Armor- why follow Zishu to the middle of nowhere instead of staying to bug Chengling if he was? Why risk a change of mind by asking so many questions after Zishu had already thrown the cursed object at him? And it didn't seem like he had been following Chengling either, to repay the Jinghu Sect for something or to take revenge on them- again, why follow Zishu instead of Chengling tonight if that was the case?

But the way Lao Wen kept appearing where the trouble was- that was not a coincidence. His obsession with Zhou Zishu, though Zishu did not flatter himself by thinking it was affection, could not be denied. And there was his refusal to let on how much he really knew about the Ghost Valley, the robotic way he had interacted with anyone that wasn't Chengling or Zishu himself at the banquet...

Zishu turned his gaze to the man lying next to him.

For all the mystery that surrounded Lao Wen, he looked exceedingly peaceful now- like he really was nothing more than the innocent, happy man whose biggest concern was telling on the lying Zhou Zishu to his mom. Zishu suddenly even felt tempted to stroke his silky black hair gently, like he had only done with two other people, so many years ago it felt like another lifetime.

As if noticing Zishu's gaze, Lao Wen shifted in his sleep, still smiling.

Zishu sighed, closing his eyes only to see Lao Wen's face hovering behind his eyelids. A question rang in his head, dying to escape his lips even though he doubted an answer would meet it, at least for now.

Lao Wen... who are you really?

Chapter Text

The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

Lao Wen had grown up in many ways- his childish innocence had sharpened into an air of alert wariness, his playful grins now hid more intent than the naive smiles of the past, and his clumsy stumbling about and copying Zishu's movements in training had developed into confident and elegant movements. Yes, many things had changed... but what seemed not to have changed was Lao Wen's fondness for playing and mischief, and his insistence on clinging to his shixiong, who used to be Zishu Ge-ge but was now A-Xu.

Another thing that had apparently not changed was his childish aversion to taking medicine when he was ill.

As a child, he had pouted and complained of its bitterness. As an adult, he laughed and claimed his illness wasn't serious enough to warrant treatment- as if he didn't fawn over Zishu as soon as the latter showed any sign of physical ailment, Zishu added silently, rolling his eyes.

Either way, the result was the same.

Lao Wen had caught a cold... somehow. Maybe he had been working too hard in the restoration of the manor. Maybe he had inhaled too much dust and mechanical oil when helping Zishu destroy Long Xiao's unholy creations. Maybe he had caught something the night he had spent outside doing... Zishu still had no clue what Kexing had done the night he had found out about the Nails, his soulmate still refused to tell him. All he knew was that it had been raining that whole night, and Kexing hadn't returned to the inn until morning. And while a cold was nowhere near the worst either of them had faced, it was definitely still a nuisance- especially when Chengling would not stop bugging them about it.

So Zishu had gone to a clinic, bought the medical ingredients for a common cold, and managed to boil them into a dark brown liquid that smelled like medicine with the help of their detailed written instructions.

Now all he needed to do was make Lao Wen drink it.

Zishu made his way to their makeshift bedroom- Kexing had retired for the afternoon today, having begun to feel dizzy in the middle of repairing a roof. He found Kexing lying on his back and with his face to the ceiling, an arm on his face as if the light from the closed windows was making his headache worse.

As soon as he noticed Zishu in the room though, Kexing sat up abruptly and greeted, "A-Xu!! Hello A-Xu!"

"Hello yourself, Lao Wen," Zishu returned, sitting down by his bedside.

"How are you doing, A-Xu?"

"Well enough." Zishu looked Kexing up and down. "I see you haven't died yet either."

"Mn~ A-Xu~!" Kexing laughed, though he was soon interrupted by a light coughing fit. He forced the fit down his throat and teased, "How sweet of you to come visit me. I'm honored~"

"Uh huh." Zishu picked up the bowl and offered it to Kexing. "I brought you some soup. Here, drink up." It was a bigger bowl than Kexing's "right-sized mouth" could down in one go, but hopefully once the first bit had gone down, he could convince Kexing that it really didn't taste that bad and he should just bite the bullet.

Instead of taking it, Kexing eyed Zishu suspiciously. Zishu wondered if Kexing found this scenario a bit too familiar, but all Kexing asked was, "Did you make this yourself?"

"No, I wouldn't subject you to my cooking while you're sick. I got this from town." That was technically correct.

"Huh- you're being self-aware for once." Kexing dodged the light smack Zishu aimed at his arm. "A-"

A coughing fit cut him off.

Without thinking, Zishu put a hand on Kexing's back and let a small amount of internal energy pass through to clear his lungs.

Kexing's coughing turned to laughter again, and he reached over to push against Zishu's arm gently. "I'm fine, A-Xu," he reassured, and his voice was devoid of coughing now- though he still sounded a bit out of breath. "Save your internal energy for yourself."

Zishu lowered his arm and remarked, "You're cheerful today."

"The sight of you is enough to cheer any man's spirits! After all, how could I be anything but happy in the company of such a beauty~?"

Zishu clicked his tongue and asked, "Are you gonna drink the soup or not? It's gonna get cold."

"Of course! Of course I am- our dear A-Xu went to the trouble of getting it himself, how could I not?"

The cold seemed to have severely affected Kexing's sense of smell, or his soulmate had truly let his guard down around him- Zishu would wager the latter, considering his recent slip-up in the facade of being ignorant about the Ghost Valley. Either way Kexing drank from the bowl without so much as sniffing it or asking why it smelled like that, despite Zishu being prepared to counter the question.

He was also very prepared to cover Kexing's mouth the second he showed any signs of spitting the medicine out.

The look on Kexing's face almost made him laugh in its familiarity- he had already seen it twice before. Now that he knew who the man was, it really did look like Zhen Yan's face of betrayal had back then, black eyes so wide with surprise and indignance he almost looked innocent again.

Kexing swallowed, shoved Zishu's hand away from his face and complained, "Zhou Zishu!!"

"I'm shocked you keep falling for this. One would think an experienced wanderer like you would know to have his guard up more."

"What experienced wanderer?" Kexing grumbled. "I'm just a poor, kind-hearted philanthropist who travels the world with no ulterior motives. Unlike you! How mean of you to trick a man as innocent as me like that- how cruel!"

"Should Zishu Ge-ge carry you so you can tell on me to Chengling?"

"Shut up," Kexing groaned, lazily moving an arm to smack Zishu- Zishu dodged with little issue and a wide grin. "I can't believe my soulmate would do this to me. I'm hurt."

"Your soulmate is doing this for your own good. I don't care if you're one of the most powerful men in the martial arts world, you are still human and can get sick. You claim to have some medical skills- you should know this better than I do."

"My medical skills tell me that this is a non-issue and all I need is some rest."

"Yet you went out to fix the roof this morning, and went out to sweep the yard and fix the stone statues with Chengling the day before, and didn't retire to your room until I yelled at you to get down and go inside."

"A-Xu!!"

Zishu sighed and tried again, "Lao Wen, like it or not, you are sick. Sick people should take medicine. It's not like this is gonna take very long, the bitter taste will be gone as soon as I give you some water to wash it all down. Don't be so stubborn."

"I told you, this is something my body can fix by itself, without any help. I am fine, A-Xu, I know my limits."

Zishu wondered if that was still true after being forced to ignore them for so many years in that place not fit for humans, but decided not to say that. He instead retorted, "Your body has had at least five days to fix itself. Since it doesn't seem to have been making much progress, I don't see the harm in getting some outside help to further the recovery process."

Kexing muttered something under his breath. Zishu couldn't hear exactly what he had said, but based on his tone and facial expression, it was some stubborn defiance about how he was perfectly fine and really, it was mean of his soulmate to not believe him.

Zishu shook his head fondly and scooped up another spoonful of medicine. "Come on, open your mouth. I'll feed you."

Kexing's eyes seemed to go even wider. He covered his mouth and yelped, "You want me to go again?!"

"It's not like this is some miracle concoction from the Immortal Physician Valley. You barely drank half of it- that's not enough to help you." Zishu held the bowl closer to Kexing's face and coaxed, "Come on, it can't be that bad. Drink up."

Instead of conceding, Kexing turned his head to the side and protested, "A-Xu, forget it. I'm not that sick, I don't need to take medicine."

"You've been sick enough that you felt dizzy in the middle of fixing a roof. Chengling is worried about you, and I do not want to have my meditation interrupted by you being seriously injured because you refuse to take care of yourself."

"It's not been that bad- I only needed to bow out today and yesterday! I know my limits!! Besides, how do you know that's gonna work as intended and not make me feel even worse?"

"Lao Wen, don't be ridiculous. I didn't get this recipe from some crackpot off the street. The clinic I got this from is simple but well-reputed and has no hand in the martial arts world. At minimum it's not gonna hurt you, and like I said, the bitter taste will be gone in less than a minute."

"Well I'm still not drinking it," Kexing insisted. "I'm not even that sick, I don't need to drink any medicine."

"Lao Wen."

There was no answer but a childish pout.

Zishu sighed. He was rapidly gaining a much deeper understanding as to why Gu Miaomiao had told him to lie to his shidi all those years ago. His Lao Wen really was impossible sometimes... he could tell that he was no closer to convincing Kexing to finish his medicine than when they had first started, and this was a battle he was quickly losing despite the facts being in his favor- he could already feel his heart softening towards Lao Wen and his pouting face. But it was true that the little Kexing had drank would be no help to him at all, so-

An idea popped into his head.

Zishu blushed at it first, and was about to call it ridiculous and throw it in the mental trash compactor for useless ideas when he realized it might not be so useless after all. He had been starting to become more and more convinced that Kexing really did mean his declarations of infatuation, at least to some degree, and... well, it would be far from the worst thing he had ever done, right?

Making up his mind, he very quickly kissed Kexing on the cheek- a blink and you'll miss it moment.

Kexing did not miss it. He raised a hand up to the spot and murmured, in something of a mix between surprise and awe, "A-Xu..."

"For being good and taking your medicine." Zishu was too embarrassed to actually look at Kexing while saying this. "But don't... don't expect me to do it again."

Kexing spent a long time staring at Zishu, his dark eyes wide and confused in a way that was almost cute.

Then the look on his face changed into amusement and something like exasperation or disbelief. He bumped his head against Zishu's shoulder and murmured, "Mn~ A-Xu, don't think I don't know what you're up to."

"What am I up to, Lao Wen? Tell me."

"If I'm good for you and drink the rest of this awful concoction, will you kiss me again?"

"...if it makes you take your medicine so you can get better, you shameless bastard."

Kexing laughed and took the bowl from Zishu. "Okay okay," he agreed. "No more teasing A-Xu. I'll take my medicine. I'll be good."

Zishu rolled his eyes, but he really did give Kexing's cheek another peck after the bowl was emptied, resulting in a faint red shade on his ears and a sweet, silly grin on Kexing's lips.