Work Text:
The mission had taken three long days. It was supposed to be simple—check a haunted valley, clear a few restless spirits, report back. But with Shi Qingxuan, “simple” always turned into “somehow chaotic but successful.”
The night air was cool when Shi Qingxuan stretched his arms and sighed dramatically. “Ahhh, finally! Peace at last! I deserve a reward, don’t you think, Ming-xiong?”
He Xuan gave him a glance that said don’t start.
Shi Qingxuan, of course, ignored that. “Ling Wen said there’s this mortal restaurant nearby—best wine in three provinces! It's so good that even gods can get a little tipsy! Doesn’t that sound fun? Let’s go try it!”
“No,” He Xuan replied flatly.
Shi Qingxuan’s eyes widened, as if He Xuan had just refused to breathe. “No? How can you say no? After all we went through? You’re heartless!”
“I’m tired,” He Xuan said. “I’d rather go back.”
“You’re always tired,” Qingxuan complained, fluttering his fan. “Come on, Ming-xiong! You need to relax once in a while. It’s just one drink.”
“I don’t drink.”
“Then eat! You like food, don’t you? They have very good dishes too.”
He Xuan raised an eyebrow. “How would you know?”
“I heard from Ling Wen!” Qingxuan grinned, eyes shining like he just discovered a great secret. “She said even she liked it! If someone as serious as Ling Wen recommends it, it must be amazing!”
He Xuan gave a quiet sigh. “No.”
Shi Qingxuan gasped. “Fine! Then I’ll go alone and tell everyone how boring the great Earth Master is! Imagine the rumors—‘Oh, Ming-xiong, the stone-faced Earth Master who refuses to celebrate life!”
He Xuan pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ll keep talking until I agree, won’t you?”
Qingxuan smiled innocently. “Of course.”
A long silence followed. Then, with another sigh that sounded like he was signing away his soul, He Xuan said, “Fine. One drink.”
Shi Qingxuan beamed. “I knew you couldn’t resist me!”
He Xuan didn’t respond. Deep down, he already knew that saying “one drink” around Shi Qingxuan was the same as surrendering to chaos.
The restaurant was lively, filled with the smell of roasted meat and laughter. The owner, seeing their robes, hurried to lead them to a quiet table by the window.
“Two bottles of your best wine!” Shi Qingxuan said cheerfully, sitting down and waving his fan like royalty. “And bring all your specialties!”
He Xuan sat opposite, silent, already regretting every decision that led him here.
When the first cup arrived, Qingxuan raised it high. “To friendship! To hard work! To my incredible charm!”
He Xuan stared. “You’re toasting yourself?”
“Well, someone has to appreciate me.” Qingxuan laughed and drank it all in one go. “Ahhh, that’s good! You should try it!”
“No.”
Qingxuan pouted. “You can’t even drink one cup for me?”
“I told you—I don’t drink.”
“Then I’ll drink for you!” And he did. Then another. Then another.
By the fifth cup, Shi Qingxuan was swaying slightly, cheeks pink, eyes brighter than ever. “Ming-xiong! You know, you’re actually not as boring as you look!”
“Thank you,” He Xuan said dryly, picking up his chopsticks to eat. The food really was good. Ling Wen hadn’t lied.
Qingxuan leaned across the table. “I mean it. You’re quiet, but you’re… dependable. I like that.”
He Xuan didn’t answer. He kept eating.
By the seventh cup, Qingxuan was completely gone. He stood up suddenly, holding his wine cup like a sword. “Ming-xiong! My best friend! My only true companion in this cruel world!”
He turned toward the bamboo decoration by the window, eyes filled with deep affection. “You’ve always been there for me, haven’t you?”
He Xuan paused mid-bite, looking up. The bamboo didn’t reply, of course.
“Always so cold,” Qingxuan continued dramatically, slurring slightly. “But I know—deep down—you care! You just don’t say it!”
He reached out and patted the bamboo. “Don’t be shy, Ming-xiong.”
He Xuan stared. Then, very quietly, he muttered, “He’s talking to a plant.”
The restaurant staff tried not to laugh. He Xuan ignored them, calmly finishing the dish of stir-fried vegetables.
Qingxuan raised his cup again, nearly falling over in the process. “To our eternal friendship! May we never part—unless you want to, but I’ll still follow you because you’re my best friend!”
He Xuan leaned back in his chair, unimpressed, and continued eating. After a while, Qingxuan’s monologue became softer and softer until it turned into quiet snores. He had fallen asleep mid-toast, one arm still around the bamboo.
He Xuan put down his chopsticks, stared at him for a moment, then sighed. “You’ll regret this in the morning.”
He stood, pulled off his cloak, and draped it gently over the sleeping Wind Master. For a moment, his expression softened. Then he turned to the restaurant staff. “Send someone to clean this up later.”
“Yes, sir,” they said quickly.
He Xuan looked at Qingxuan one last time, shaking his head. “Idiot.”
But even as he said that, he stayed a little longer, making sure the wind outside wouldn’t chill him.
The next morning, He Xuan was sure he would never agree to another of Shi Qingxuan’s ridiculous ideas.
He was sitting in the courtyard of their temporary inn, reading a report, when the door burst open.
“Ming-xiong!” Shi Qingxuan called out, beaming, as if last night’s embarrassment had never happened. “You’re awake! Good morning!”
He Xuan didn’t look up. “You’re loud.”
“I feel amazing today!” Qingxuan said, spinning around. “That wine was fantastic! We should go again!”
He Xuan froze. “No.”
“Oh, come on! Just one more cup!”
“No.”
Qingxuan leaned closer, smiling. “You enjoyed it too, admit it.”
“I did not.”
“You finished all the food!”
“That’s because you were too busy talking to bamboo.”
Qingxuan blinked. “Bamboo? What bamboo?”
He Xuan looked up at him, deadpan. “The one you confessed eternal friendship to.”
Qingxuan gasped, covering his mouth. “I did what?”
“You hugged it too.”
“No way!”
He Xuan nodded slowly. “You called it ‘Ming-xiong’ and told it you’d follow it forever.”
Qingxuan stared at him for a few seconds, face turning bright red. Then he laughed. “Well, at least I have good taste!”
He Xuan groaned quietly and went back to reading. “Never again.”
Qingxuan sat down beside him, leaning on the table. “You say that, but you don’t mean it.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
“I do.”
Qingxuan grinned. “You’ll come with me again.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Silence. Then He Xuan muttered, “You’re impossible.”
“Thank you,” Qingxuan said, smiling as if it were a compliment. “So, shall we go?”
He Xuan didn’t move. He wanted to say no again, to stay and avoid another night of chaos. But when Qingxuan tilted his head and smiled at him, something in his chest softened before he could stop it.
He closed his book. “One drink.”
Shi Qingxuan cheered, grabbing his arm. “I knew it! You really can’t say no to me!”
He Xuan sighed, letting himself be pulled along. “One day, you’ll push your luck too far.”
“Then you’ll just have to come to me again, won’t you?”
He didn’t answer. The morning light fell softly on them as they walked toward the restaurant. Qingxuan was already talking about new dishes to try, new stories to tell. He Xuan listened in silence, pretending not to care.
But when the Wind Master laughed—bright, free, alive—He Xuan found himself almost smiling.
Just a little.
That night, the restaurant owner
saw the same pair return—the loud, laughing young man and his quiet, expressionless friend beside him. He smiled knowingly and poured another round of the best wine in the house.