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“What?” Wen Xiao asked, confused, “What do you mean he can’t read? He’s over 30,000 years old.”
Zhao Yuanzhou should have realized that mentioning that Li Lun was illiterate in passing to Wen Xiao would lead to intense questioning.
“He never learned. Didn’t want to be taught. Said he had no need to learn how to communicate with mortals in that way,” he replied.
It was something he had long stopped trying to convince Li Lun to do. He should have known that Wen Xiao wouldn’t be able to move past that detail.
“What if I try to teach him?” she asks.
He looks at her, incredulous, “You want to teach Li Lun to read? You want to ask to teach Li Lun to read? He’s not going to agree.”
Wrong answer. She takes his doubt as a challenge.
“And why not? We’re friends,” she retorts.
It was true that Li Lun had begrudgingly tolerated Wen Xiao’s attempts at friendship long enough that they had succeeded, in a way. He still wasn’t sure they spoke to one another. It was like no friendship he had ever seen, but it was likely as close as Li Lun would ever get to befriending a mortal. He would have to take it as is.
“I’m not convinced Li Lun knows that you two are friends, but sure, you could say that. And if he says no?” Zhao Yuanzhou presses, hoping to get her to see that her plan wouldn’t work.
Wen Xiao, beautiful and stubborn as ever, smiles, “He won’t. I won’t let him.”
Li Lun has never willingly bent to the whims of humans. Wen Xiao has never backed away from a challenge. He’s almost curious to see who would win.
-
“What’s in it for me?” Li Lun asks.
This was not something Zhao Yuanzhou expected. He had anticipated outright refusal, but Li Lun had managed to surprise him. Maybe Wen Xiao really could teach him to read.
“It would please me to be able to teach you,” she tries, smiling warmly.
It didn’t work; Li Lun’s thoughts on that expressed through his unimpressed look clearly.
She sighs and tries again, “I can put in a good word for you with xiao Zhuo.”
He had told Wen Xiao what he saw between Li Lun and Zhuo Yichen, their chemistry, the way they were clearly interested in each other, how he had encouraged both of them to pursue this interest. What he didn’t explain was why he wanted this, that his goal was that they would not only end up in bed together, but that they would end up in bed together with him. It wouldn’t do him any good for either of them to find out just yet.
This gets Li Lun’s interest, though he tries to hide it, replying, “Why would that matter to me?”
In a way he had a point; Zhuo Yichen was already interested enough to voice his concerns about how Bai Jiu would handle the pair growing close. He had already made up his mind that this was something he wanted. But Zhao Yuanzhou knew that deep down Li Lun was worried. He had felt the same way, developing feelings for the one person fated to kill him, the man whose family he had brutally murdered with his own hands. It was difficult to romance someone so righteous when there was blood on your own hands.
Wen Xiao, sharp as ever, cuts the back and forth short, saying, “If you weren’t going to agree you would have refused already. Why keep this going?”
Li Lun blinks, taken aback at her brazen approach. He was clearly expecting her to keep pushing, or give up entirely. With Li Lun, wanting either was a possibility. This was uncharted territory; he hadn’t planned for this. It was shocking enough that he dropped the charade entirely.
“Fine. But I’m not setting foot in the Demon Hunting Bureau for this. If you want to teach me so badly, you’ll make the effort,” Li Lun said.
Trust that Li Lun would still make this difficult after agreeing. Still, Wen Xiao seems undeterred.
“Perfect,” she replies, smiling, “Zhao Yuanzhou’s library isn’t as vast as the bureau’s, but there’s plenty to work with. We’ll start tomorrow.”
-
Wen Xiao could tell Li Lun was getting frustrated, jaw clenching, fingers tightening on the third pen she had given him. She really hoped he wouldn’t break this one; she only had the one in her hair left. Maybe Zhao Yuanzhou had some that could withstand yao strength. She’d have to ask him.
“Maybe we should take a break,” she suggested.
He clenches his fingers, the pen snapping under the force. So much for not breaking it. Zhao Yuanzhou will owe her new ones. She had decided to have Li Lun start with writing, thinking that reading would come easier if he knew the characters, could recognize brushstrokes. It’s proven difficult, Li Lun’s writing clumsy in a way that he otherwise wasn’t. This didn’t come naturally to him; she understands why he’s frustrated. Maybe she would have to try a different approach, one that would result in less destruction.
She stands, walking over to the shelves. Wen Xiao doesn’t expect Zhao Yuanzhou to have collected schoolbooks, but given the vastness of his library he had to have something that was a little easier to start with. Walking past tome after tome after tome of dense medical texts, historical accounts, and an impressively large collection of dual cultivation manuals, she found what she was looking for.
“Here. Let’s read this,” she says, handing him a small book.
It was a book of folk tales, one that wasn’t geared toward new readers, but was simple enough to get the job done. She knew the book well.
Wen Xiao flips the book to the first page, “I’ll read a sentence and point at the characters, then you’ll repeat after me, okay?”
“I’m done with this,” Li Lun replies, dropping the book on the table as he rises.
Tearing open the door he’s greeted by Zhao Yuanzhou, who was shocked to learn his eavesdropping had been discovered. Li Lun gives him an unimpressed look before pushing past him. Zhao Yuanzhou walks into the library, occupying the seat next to Wen Xiao.
“How did it go?” he asks.
She expected him to be smug, pleased with himself when he thought he won. That wasn’t the case. Instead he looks at the broken pens, the smudged ink, the wobbly brushstrokes, and looks at her like she had already accomplished more than he had anticipated. It was almost vindicating after the afternoon she had.
“I’ll come by in a few days to start reading with him. Maybe we’ll make progress that way,” she says, determined.
“You don’t have to keep trying. You’ve proven your point; I lost,” Zhao Yuanzhou replies.
Wen Xiao shakes her head, “I’m going to keep trying. I want to see it to the end.”
She kisses him, rising from the table.
“You’ll need to buy something for him to write with. And you need to replace the pens he broke,” she tells him as she leaves.
-
The lessons continue much the same; little progress is made before Li Lun gives up each time, but he does continue to sit down at the table with her which is a small victory. Zhao Yuanzhou replaced the pens that had been broken, along with supplying them with endless brushes for Li Lun to use. They alternate between writing lessons and reading the book of folk tales. He stays longer for the latter, the repetition and recitation easier for him.
She invites Zhao Yuanzhou to sit in on the lessons, or rather, Zhao Yuanzhou invites himself. It is his library, in his home; she doesn’t want to ban him outright. That is, until it becomes obvious that his presence is having a negative impact. More and more the lessons end in angry outbursts targeted at Zhao Yuanzhou. She’s had enough.
Wen Xiao stops him outside of the library, suggesting, “Why don’t you find something else to occupy your time this afternoon?”
“Am I no longer welcome to join your lessons?” he asks, upset.
“Your presence sets him on edge. It’s clear he’s insecure about struggling,” she explains.
“I’m just trying to help!” he protests.
Zhao Yuanzhou’s idea of help was to tell Li Lun that he was repeating something incorrectly, or his brushstrokes were out of order, or any other number of things that Wen Xiao was perfectly capable of resolving herself. This wouldn’t be so terrible, but he wouldn’t provide any guidance afterwards, only pointing out mistakes. It had led to many more broken brushes and furious walkouts than she could handle.
“You know Li Lun better than anyone. Has he ever responded well to your ‘help’?” she asks, hoping that he sees the issue he’s causing.
Zhao Yuanzhou is quiet for some time, thinking over what she said, before replying, “No. You’re right; I’m causing more trouble for you.”
She smiles, kissing him on the cheek in thanks. “I’ll bring xiao Zhuo next time to keep you company,” she promises, before slipping into the library, closing the door behind her.
Li Lun is already seated at the table, staring at the brushes and ink as if he could destroy them with a look. She sits down across from him.
“Zhao Yuanzhou has decided to find somewhere else to be this afternoon, so it’s just us today,” she informs him.
Noting the minute relaxation of his posture, she continues, “I brought you something. Growing up, xiao Zhuo loved this story.”
She hands him another book, different from the one they had been reading. It was a fairytale, a fantastical story of gods and emperors, of good prevailing. Wen Xiao is aware that the contents were of little concern to the yao, but she has a guess that who the book belonged to would pique his interest. Zhuo Yichen’s crush on Li Lun was very much reciprocated, and she would use that to her advantage if she could.
“Does this belong to him?” he asks, feigning passing curiousity.
She nods and plays along, replying, “It does. He’s letting us borrow it. Would you like to give it a try? We can skip writing for today.”
He nods, opening the book and sliding it across the table to her. Another small victory. Picking up the book, she holds it up so that Li Lun can see the characters as she points to them.
“Once upon a time…”
-
Li Lun finds him lounging on the chaise in the library and picks up the book on the table, handing it to Zhao Yuanzhou before climbing into his lap, snuggling down in his arms.
“We were at the part where the emperor was going to sacrifice his firstborn daughter,” he says, gesturing at the book.
Wen Xiao had made great strides with the pagoda yao, getting him to the point that he could recognize several characters without much difficulty. She had even recommended that he read with Li Lun, so long as he was mindful of how he was pointing out mistakes. But Li Lun was still stubborn, refusing to let him help after the problems he had caused before. Instead, he wants Zhao Yuanzhou to read to him, rather than with him.
Zhao Yuanzhou looks at him, then at the book in his hand, replying, “Lunzi, Wen Xiao would have my head if I just read this to you. You know this; remember how she yelled at me for reading to you after I upset you?”
After making Li Lun forget where he was and that Zhuo Yichen was there watching during a particularly emotional bout of lovemaking Zhao Yuanzhou set out to atone for his mistake. This included reading to Li Lun in the garden, among many other requests the pagoda yao made of him. Wen Xiao had discovered this, and had threatened him so thoroughly that he was genuinely worried what would happen if she caught him doing it again.
Li Lun pouts, a sight so endearing Zhao Yuanzhou almost wants to give in, complaining, “Can’t you read it for me? Just this once?”
“I’m sorry, Lunzi. I promised Wen Xiao I wouldn’t just read to you. But she said we could read together. Did you want to read with me?” Zhao Yuanzhou asks, though he already knows the answer.
Li Lun shakes his head in refusal; Zhao Yuanzhou tilts his chin up to kiss the other yao.
“Okay. You can stay if you’d like, but I won’t be reading to you,” he states.
The pagoda yao tucks himself against the back of the chaise, stretching out to lay on Zhao Yuanzhou, head resting against his shoulder. He lets Li Lun get comfortable, kissing his forehead before he begins to run his fingers through the other yao’s hair. Li Lun sighs, melting into the touch. Maybe one day Zhao Yuanzhou could convince him to read together, but for now he was content to have the yao warm and affectionate in his embrace.
-
Li Lun understands what Zhu Yan and Zhuo Yichen see in the young Baize goddess. While he has never been drawn to or found interest in the feminine form himself, he isn’t ignorant to the fact that she is beautiful. But more than that, she is quick-witted and wise beyond her years; he had never met another human, even another Baize goddess, so intent on treating yao with kindness and respect. He respects that she is unafraid to speak her mind, and appreciates that she has far less shame about her than most humans, uncaring towards many of their silly societal rules.
He just wishes she wasn’t so damn persistent.
Ying Zhao had stopped expecting him to attend the same lessons Zhu Yan was eager to learn about decades prior to their departure from Mount Kunlun. Zhu Yan had given up on trying to teach him long ago, finally accepting his lack of interest. He wasn’t sure Zhuo Yichen knew before this, and he wasn’t sure how much of the young yao’s involvement was at her behest, and how much, if any, was genuine concern from the dragon yao himself.
But Wen Xiao was different. She wanted to teach him, for some reason. He had attempted to thwart her efforts early on, yet she remained determined. It was most difficult for him starting out, the unfamiliarity of the lessons, the way he struggled, unable to hold a brush well enough to write simple characters frustrating. Many brushes faced the brunt of his anger at them. Yet she continued showing up.
He admired her tenacity.
For that reason alone, he sits in the library on a beautiful, sunny day. Zhu Yan had wanted to spend time at the Demon Hunting Bureau so they had gone their separate ways that morning. He will use this time to better his writing. Li Lun picks up a brush, careful not to drip ink, and begins the first of many shaky characters.
-
Li Lun has been practicing. Wen Xiao doesn’t have proof, per se, but it’s true. She can see it in the way he writes, still a bit clumsy, but far more sure of himself than he has been in the months since this began. It’s been several lessons since a brush was broken, and he’s starting to recognize enough characters that he can read partial sentences without having to hear her read them first. It was satisfying to see him improve.
“I found this in a trunk at the Demon Hunting Bureau. I want you to read it by yourself,” Wen Xiao says, sliding a parcel across the table.
Li Lun unties the twine holding the wrapping together, revealing a children’s book with what looked like a poorly drawn dragon scribbled on the front. Much like the last book, this was also Zhuo Yichen’s, from his youth. Zhuo Yichen had shown her where his childhood belongings were, packed away after he lost his father and brother. He allowed her to parse through them, adding items to the bureau’s archives, or like in this case, using them here, with Li Lun. The book was one that she didn’t recognize; Zhuo Yichen said it was given to him by a tutor. After reading through it, she decided it was perfect for this.
“You shouldn’t have much difficulty with the words; I’ve already checked. But I’m here if you need help,” she explains, smiling.
Li Lun looks at her, then again at the book. If he knew it was a children’s book specifically for young readers Wen Xiao is sure he would take offense, but it was at the level he could understand with little intervention. They didn’t exactly write lesson plans on how to teach ancient yao how to read. But so far he hadn’t caught on, likely due to how little he cared about humans in general. In this case it worked in her favor.
He begins to read slowly, carefully speaking the words as if the characters would jump from the page to bite him. She nods occasionally, encouraging him to continue. There are only a few words Li Lun stumbles on, and Wen Xiao is quick to help him with them. The afternoon passes this way, Li Lun so engrossed in the text he doesn’t notice, Wen Xiao unwilling to stop him.
The end of the book takes him by surprise; she can see the shock on his face when he has no more pages to turn before he’s able to hide his reaction. A pleased look flits across his face as he thumbs through the pages once more.
“Congratulations. Isn’t it satisfying to have read the book on your own?” she asks him.
“It was fine. I still don’t see why this is so important to you,” he replies.
But Wen Xiao knows the truth. She could see the satisfaction on his face, how accomplishing this brought him some happiness, no matter how small. It was enough to make these months worth it.
-
Time passes; Li Lun continues to improve. He reads outside of their lessons, Zhao Yuanzhou claims. She wouldn’t be inclined to believe that if Zhuo Yichen hadn’t also confirmed it. Wen Xiao makes sure to leave books at his reading level on the table before she leaves each time so that he has something to read within easy reach.
Li Lun likes books with happy endings, books about true love, about romance. He won’t admit this out loud, but she sees the way his eyes soften at descriptions of romantic gestures, the small smile on his face at the mention of a tender kiss. She looks through Zhao Yuanzhou’s library as well as the bureau’s archives for books with stories like that.
When she had run out of those types of books for him to read, Wen Xiao had asked Zhao Yuanzhou and Zhuo Yichen if they would write love letters to him. He enjoyed love stories so much; she knew love letters addressed to him would go over well. Zhuo Yichen had refused, face bright red, stammering about how he liked Li Lun, but he wasn’t in love with him. She smiled and let him continue to delude himself.
Zhao Yuanzhou agreed, delighted, writing page after page of flowery prose, calling upon tens of thousands of years of history together to write his letters. Li Lun loves them enough to keep several on his person at any given time; she can hear the crinkle of paper in his sleeves. She suggests he write one in return. He pretends to ignore her.
Her plan works; she walks into the library one day to see Li Lun writing carefully. Wen Xiao is only able to catch a glimpse of the first sentence before Li Lun tucks the page away. I have loved you from the moment we first met. It’s very sweet, and Zhao Yuanzhou tears up every time she mentions the letter.
On the day of their last lesson Li Lun is not there. Zhao Yuanzhou stops her on the patio, informing her of his absence and offering tea.
“He’s taken xiao Zhuo to the Dahuang. Wanted to show him all the places our memories were made. Hopes he doesn’t have to be the first to say ‘I love you’ this time,” Zhao Yuanzhou explains.
Wen Xiao takes a sip of her tea, “Xiao Zhuo is nervous, but I think he’ll do okay. They really do love each other.”
Zhao Yuanzhou nods. They sit in comfortable silence for some time, listening to the birds chirp, enjoying one another’s company. Eventually she rises.
“I left my notebook last time. I’m going to go get it,” she says, moving towards the house.
Wen Xiao makes her way to the library. Stepping inside, she sees her notebook on the table. More than that, she spots a slip of paper with her name on it, folded and placed beside it. It’s Li Lun’s handwriting. Opening it, she reads the message he left for her. Two simple words.
Thank you.
Heart warm, she tucks the paper into her notebook for safekeeping, before walking back to the patio.