Chapter Text
Born on the same day to two terribly different families, both children had high expectations placed upon them. The first of the two boys was a fiery thing, born with a full head of hair and a small birthmark in a curving shape that resembled half of the Yin and Yang at the center of his forehead. The second was a pale boy, blue hair in short tufts, his ears perked up and– oddly enough– had a similar birthmark on his front just like the first. Both boys were third born to their families, each born to greatly recognized lineages. The Li’s son was Ne Zha, their fiery boy and troublemaker, the Ao’s son was Bing, a level-headed child and only hope to regain favor in the eyes of high society.
As the youngest son, Li Ne Zha was sent to a regular school where he could socially develop and release the surplus of energy he seemed to always carry in his little body. His father, Li Jing, decided this was the best option for his son at least until the boy entered the sixth grade where he would receive his education from personal tutors instead.
Ao Bing was raised in the same seclusion his family preferred to stay in. He had a personal teacher from a young age by the name of Shen Gongbao who taught the boy poise, elegance, how to fight, and aided in his academic studies. Ao Bing was not often given the opportunity to go out, much less on his own and therefore had an air of awkwardness about him when he did meet someone new as well as a desire to explore the world just outside his family’s estate.
Both families knew of each other but hardly interacted, the Ao’s were once much more recognized than the Li’s but with time and a disgrace too great to repair, they have fallen into the background of their society. Li Jing and Lady Yin were both exceptional generals who received recognition for their prowess in battle in past years. They preferred to lead a peaceful home life with their youngest son, though duty did often call them back to service.
***
Li Jing had been called to the outer borders of their province to handle one thing or other, Ne Zha truly did not know nor did he find himself caring. He wandered out into the courtyard of Li Manor, his family home, and scaled the furthest wall where he sat and looked down at the town below him. The boy was about five by now, he stood at just over three feet tall, his mother had styled his hair into two girlish buns with red ribbons, he wore a golden hoop around his neck, a red vest with a lotus pattern on the back, and loose pants held up by a golden ribbon that had fire printing on the legs.
The times he was not out with his parents or in school, Ne Zha was at home. He was expressly told that no matter what, he could not be outside the manor without an attendant as he would surely get into trouble. The last time he snuck out on his own, the townspeople seemed to be the ones who caused all the ruckus, not him, but he was still punished for disobeying his parents’ request.
Now the boy was on holiday break from school and both parents were too busy to entertain him. Ne Zha laid back onto the roof and closed his eyes, trying not to think too much about his boredom. It was only the third day of break and he had already run through all his plans and was left with nothing to do. He had already climbed all the trees on his family’s property twice, run over the roofs, drawn everything he could think of, and torn his room apart, put it back together and done it again. Ne Zha had run out of ideas and could practically feel himself vibrating with energy, anxious for something to do again.
He turned onto his side with a sigh and looked down at the town once more. From there he could see the little specks of townspeople moving through the streets and working like little ants. As he watched, it seemed that at times the people would either pause or clear the way before continuing on like before. Ne Zha took notice and sat up to look at the town better. It was true, from time to time, street to street, the little people down in the town would move out of the way.
Now that was interesting, interesting enough to relieve Ne Zha of his boredom.
He climbed down from the roof and sauntered over to the front gates of his home. Two large, wooden doors, backed by steel and guarded by two incredibly stupid guards with incredibly stupid staffs. Ne Zha stopped just short of them and stared, a frown on his face. Both guards were far taller than him, far stronger–
Well not exactly. Ne Zha was abnormally strong for his age and size, being a child who could kick holes into walls while playing the jianzi and hoist himself up onto the highest roof of his home. He believed he could take those stupid guards in a fight if he so wanted but felt too unbothered to try. Besides, it was far more entertaining to watch them fight each other.
Ne Zha took one of many jianzi that he owned and launched it into the back of the taller guard’s head. Immediately, the guard flinched and turned to the other with a dirty look on his face before returning his bearing. Then again, Ne Zha launched the toy at him again and stood back as the argument started.
“Would you stop that?” asked the taller guard.
The shorter guard– not quite so riled up yet but frustrated by his companion’s hostility– rolled his eyes, “Doing what? I’m not doing anything.”
The taller guard scowled, “You’re hitting my head! I know it’s you, you do this all the damn time!”
“I hit you?” The shorter asked. He jabbed a finger into the other guard’s chest, “You hit me !”
Unintelligible shouts and swears were thrown around until both guards were on the ground, their staffs discarded with a loud, sharp, clang! Their fight moved just out of the way of the doors and Ne Zha took his opportunity to make his escape. One quick jump and the bar that kept the doors closed was knocked away and Ne Zha was granted freedom.
He slipped his hands into his pockets and strolled away while whistling a tune. The town was down the hill, just a few minutes walk from Li Manor, and even halfway down the steps Ne Zha could sense a difference in the town’s usual vibe. Instead of the boring drone of people working and talking and children playing, there was something his little mind couldn’t quite pinpoint. Perhaps a buzzing of whispers, a sense of tension, whether good or bad, Ne Zha couldn’t tell.
The center of town was fairly normal compared to the other streets. That different air remained, its mark made but seemed to have moved on like dust in the breeze. Some of the townsfolk gave Ne Zha looks as he passed by, some even turning to each other, mutters of hushed criticism of his parents could just be heard. Ne Zha didn’t mind, in fact he silently challenged those people to speak aloud, criticize his family without shame, see what he would do if someone dared gain that confidence. He sauntered around a while, trying to block out their whispers when something caught his eye.
Like it had before, the atmosphere changed and the townspeople parted to make way. Ne Zha turned onto that street to take a look and found a tall man with a little boy in tow. There had to be something special about them as they kept their faces hidden beneath silver hoods that only exposed their eyes. The man had to have stood at more than six feet and hair length to match as it peeked through the bottom of his hood. His broad shoulders were further exaggerated by a heavy cream colored fur cloak he wore over them. As he passed, his long strides heavy and calculated, the little boy who followed him seemed to struggle in his own long and heavy robes as he scurried to keep up with the man, presumably his father.
Ne Zha watched them pass by, baffled at how they would cause such a fuss in town and why they wore such heavy and oddly elegant robes in the middle of the summer. They couldn’t have been there simply to enjoy the town, could they?
As the little boy stumbled and practically flailed in his long hood, he turned to look in Ne Zha’s direction. The boy’s eyes were pale blue, borderline icy, a sharp contrast to Ne Zha’s warm brown that flashed red in the sun. They paused, continuing to look at each other; something about that boy in the silver hood became far more interesting than before. The boy’s father noticed he had fallen behind and gave a sharp call to gain his attention. That was all the boy needed to drop his gaze and pick up the laboring task of keeping up with his father.
The crowded street returned to business as usual as soon as the pair had rounded the corner, the air filled with their wide variety of speculation on the town’s strange guests. Ne Zha scoffed and marched to the end of the street, fully intent to follow those strangers. He couldn’t believe they had the power to shut an entire street up when all he ever seemed to do was make them whisper in harsh tones at best and shout at worst.
Unfortunately, he was not fast enough and the silver hooded figures had all but disappeared. Ne Zha was intent on seeing them once more, having decided this was the true cure to his boredom. Luckily, he knew all the best ways to get around quickly in that town; the rooftops.
Every building was small, the largest of them hardly having a second floor or loft level but the roofs were enough to watch for someone passing by. Ne Zha walked over to a stand that stood abandoned for lunch by its owner and jumped onto its flimsy roof before gripping the side of the building it was placed next to. With an easy leap, he even had the time to do a flip in the air before landing on the roof’s edge. Ne Zha set about peeking into every street following the one the strangers had just passed. He hopped from roof to roof until he spotted something reflecting in the sun; the boy’s hood.
There he was, that little boy in the heavy robes. He looked almost lost and the street he stood in was fairly empty. Ne Zha watched the boy nervously look around, his hands fidgeting with his sleeves and even reaching up to the hood before hesitating and dropping to his sides.
“Hey, what’s your deal?” Ne Zha called down to him.
The boy jumped and hurriedly looked around. From under his hood, it was clear that his pale eyes were darting all around. Ne Zha laughed and jumped down, landing just beside the boy, leaning in so his face was dangerously close. He had a wide grin when the boy shrieked and stumbled back in surprise.
“You didn’t answer me,” Ne Zha said through suppressed laughter. “What’s up with you? That hood? Don’t you know it’s the middle of summer?”
The boy hesitated, his fingers reaching to pick at the fabric of his robes. His blue eyes looked everywhere but Ne Zha and his voice was quiet and trembling, “I can’t show my face.”
Ne Zha frowned and circled the boy, “Why can’t you? Is that guy you were with making you hide?”
“I can’t tell you,” the boy responded. He stepped to try and leave but Ne Zha wasn’t quite done with him yet.
“At least tell me your name then,” he insisted, blocking the boy’s path.
The boy finally huffed and looked up to meet Ne Zha’s eyes. He still looked worried, even under the hood. “Ao Bing,” he finally uttered. Then something in Ao Bing’s gaze changed, “What’s yours?”
With a smug grin, Ne Zha proudly announced, “I’m Li Ne Zha!” he jabbed his thumb into his chest for emphasis. “Hey, you know how to play jianzi?”
Ao Bing shook his head but did not respond. Ne Zha sighed and reached into his pocket to reveal the jianzi in question, “This thing. Come on, I’ll show you how to play!”
“But I can’t be seen without my father!” Ao Bing gasped. He looked around nervously before adding, “I got lost, I’ll be in trouble if I go with you!”
“So what? If he catches up, just tell him I was helping you.”
“I don’t think–” But Ne Zha had already taken his hand and dragged him out of the street.
With no other choice as his grip was strong, Ao Bing followed Ne Zha, still scanning every street for his father. He was led to an open field just outside the town, the beach and nearby docks could be seen from there and the wind was refreshingly cool. Ne Zha let Ao Bing go and pulled the jianzi out again, tossing it into the air and letting it fall back into his palm.
Though the grass was long and at certain areas, tall enough to hide in, it wouldn’t get too much in the way. Ne Zha caught the jianzi one final time with a smile and Ao Bing finally piped up, “How do you play with that? I’ve never seen one before, it looks so weird.”
“You kick it!” Ne Zha tossed the jianzi into the air and kicked it higher, then letting it fall in Ao Bing’s direction. It had such a force that it lodged itself into the dirt and sprayed that dirt everywhere in a three foot radius. Ne Zha chuckled nervously, “Ma, says I’m a little rough though…”
He received no answer, only Ao Bing silently dislodging the jianzi and examining it. Under his hood his pale eyes looked on at the wooden object in wonder and he tossed it up, catching it on the toe of his boot. His eyes flashed with something mischievous as he kicked and launched the jianzi into the air. It hit similar speeds to Ne Zha’s and made a clean line towards him.
“I thought you didn’t play!” Ne Zha shouted as he jumped up and kicked the jianzi back toward Ao Bing.
Ao Bing, to his credit, did almost miss the jianzi but saved it at the last second. “I don’t. I never heard of this game before.”
They continued that way, kicking the jianzi between each other for a long while. It was possibly the highlight of Ne Zha’s school break. One particularly hard kick turned into sending the toy soaring like a rocket as each boy tried to hit it harder each time. They ran about, chasing it until Ne Zha caught it with a powerful but poorly aimed hit and sent it flying directly in Ao Bing’s direction.
The jianzi headed straight for his face. Ao Bing ducked in time to avoid it but his hood got caught and was pulled over his head. In seconds he dropped to the ground, arms over his face. Ne Zha worried he’d hit him and rushed over, already spouting apologies and offers to retrieve ice. His voice died out when he saw Ao Bing’s face for the first time.
A pale boy, his blue hair– just as icy as his eyes– a frizzy mess but tied back in a half bun, and most interestingly; two little horns in his forehead. His round face was already tear stricken as he desperately tried to keep himself hidden as he reached for his hood.
To Ao Bing’s visible shock, Ne Zha beamed with excitement, “You have horns? That’s awesome!”
“What–?”
“Is that why you hid your face?” Ne Zha leaned in closer, eyes focused on Ao Bing’s forehead. “Does your dad have horns too? Oh! And you have a birthmark like me!” He happily pulled back his bangs to reveal the odd little red mark he’d had in the center of his forehead since birth.
Ao Bing took hold of his hood and looked down at it. He sniffled as he picked at the fabric, “Father says we can never let anyone know about them. He says we have to wait for something to happen before we can go out without hoods on.” He pulled his hood on, adjusting it and brushing dirt off from the silver fabric.
Ne Zha’s face fell a little and he let his bangs go. “That’s weird, but I think they look cool, like dragons!” he grabbed the jianzi and jumped up, tossing it into the air. “If it’s because the people in town say it looks weird, forget them. They’re not nice to me either.”
“But you’re not–”
The jianzi hit Ao Bing in the shoulder, not hard, but enough to bounce off of him. Ne Zha picked it up again and sighed, “I don’t think you’re weird so, can we keep playing now?”
Wordlessly, Ao Bing agreed and they resumed their game, both careful to not knock his hood off again.
The air began to cool more and more as time went on, their game lasting ages and yet not lasting long enough. It seemed they would continue playing forever until Ao Bing caught the jianzi and paused his head turning back toward the town. His shoulders slumped and he rushed over to Ne Zha, quickly handing the toy back to him. “My father is coming this way! I have to go now,” he said, voice sad. “I had fun with you.”
Ne Zha took the jianzi back and frowned, “Are you gonna come back?” He hated to see his new friend go and hated that he would have no one to play with again.
Ao Bing shook his head before turning on his heel, “No, father doesn’t let us go out a whole lot.”
“Then take it,” the jianzi was thrust back into Ao Bing’s hand, “My parents don’t play this with me a lot so you can have it.” Ne Zha put his hands in his pockets and stepped back, a sad grin on his face.
“Thank you,” Ao Bing pocketed the jianzi and ran off, his little form disappearing in a tall patch of grass before reemerging at the edge of town and meeting with the tall, broad man that was his father.
Left alone in the field with no friend and down one jianzi, Ne Zha stalked back into town. The town’s air had lost that buzzing curiosity from before, the street lamps had flickered on and everyone began making their preparations to retire for the night. Children were already inside so there was no one to mess with Ne Zha and no one for him to mess with. The town was boring and just as boring as ever.
In the back of his mind, Ne Zha knew he would be in trouble for going out on his own. His mother was usually the nicer of his parents when it came to it, maybe he could lay on the cute act and get nothing more than a slap on the wrist. Ne Zha also knew he was excited to tell his parents all about the friend he had made, and tell all about how Ao Bing was actually able to keep up with him when they played together.
He hoped he could see him again. Only three days into his week break from school and he already made a friend. But there was no telling if Ne Zha would even see Ao Bing again or if it was back to unending boredom for the rest of the week.