Work Text:
To think back on the lives he once thought he would live, Duan Huaiyi can only laugh.
He was born the youngest son of a great general, but his father never lived to see him train in the art of war. His family savagely destroyed, with only himself and his gege left to flee with the scattered winds, drawn apart as easily as petals fallen in a stream.
And then, the years of devotion at the temple, cultivating a life of peace. Letting his grief fuel a bottomless emptiness in himself, until he called it tranquility. He almost let go of everything, once.
How naive that version of himself seems now.
His brother is the one constant in Huaiyi’s life, his guiding star. Huaiyi always admired Ziang; his gege was clever, talented, charming. Loved by everyone who knew him. A boy with the brightness of the morning sun burning away the dew; a man with the drive to accomplish the impossible. Thorough and sincere in all his pursuits, unafraid of doing what must be done. How fiercely Huaiyi had loved him, how desperately he wished to prove he could be any match to his brother; to stand beside him as an equal, and feel worthy of the honor.
It was Duan Ziang who taught Huaiyi that ruthlessness is strength. It was Duan Ziang who taught Huaiyi that peace comes only when your enemies have been silenced. It was Duan Ziang who taught Huaiyi not to rest until you have captured the very moon in your hands.
Even without the royal blood of the Ji Bei in his veins, his gege would have found a way to conquer, command, and lead. Wielding power is Duan Ziang’s destiny; the blessing of the heavens smiling down on him.
And yet… his perfect gege has one fatal weakness.
The man who wields only a qin and a poet’s brush. The incompetent ruler of a kingdom that was crumbling long before their armies crossed its border. The weak prince who could not lift a sword in his country’s defense except to end his own life.
Xiao Shuhe. Huaiyi truly hates him.
As children, Ziang and Huaiyi had been inseparable – until Ziang brought home this timid, frightened little prince. Suddenly, all of Ziang’s days were spent in his friend’s company. Huaiyi, too small to understand, went crying to his mother’s arms. Jealousy is unbecoming, she had said. But the little thief called Huaiyi’s own brother ‘gege’.
Years later, the miracle Huaiyi had lost all hope for came true – his gege came back for him. Ziang never stopped looking for Huaiyi, he sought him everywhere for years and years. But once again, there was Xiao Shuhe, like a shadow by his side. How many years had Huaiyi dreamed of this reunion? And why, after all this time apart, was his beloved brother’s attention so divided?
But now… now Duan Ziang has risen to the highest place in the land. There is no one greater, stronger, more capable or more ambitious than Huaiyi’s royal brother. And yet, Xiao Shuhe still holds sway in his heart, and so Xiao Shuhe holds sway over everything.
Huaiyi is not ignorant, and his brother has made no secret of his obsession these past years. Huaiyi knows very well what Xiao Shuhe means to his gege. If he must take second place in his brother’s heart, Huaiyi could bear it for someone worthy enough.
But… for all his brother has done, all the kindness he has shown, all the mercy he has granted, all the love in his heart – Xiao Shuhe is ungrateful.
That, more than anything, Huaiyi cannot forgive.
He finally has solid proof – the servants saw the disgraced prince meeting secretly with a cloaked figure, planning something sinister. And on the eve of the Lantern Festival, no less; a time meant for peace and recreation.
Huaiyi’s beloved brother is too fond where this disdainful prince is concerned. Where he once was vigilant – for Shuhe, Duan Ziang throws caution to the wind. Where he once was ruthless – for Shuhe, Duan Ziang chooses mercy. Where he once was unbending – for Shuhe, Duan Ziang will find any indulgence. Where he once would bow to no one – for Shuhe, Duan Ziang will break his own heart and ruin his own body to rekindle a fire that has long since gone out.
So Huaiyi doesn’t bother to share his plans with his brother. He’ll simply handle this matter himself.
It turns out to be an escape attempt – Xiao Shuhe tries to flee south, to gather his old loyalists and destroy the peace that Ziang painstakingly built out of the remnants of that conquered country. The servants’ intelligence is sound, and Huaiyi and his royal brother catch up to them rather quickly.
It breaks Huaiyi’s heart to see how deeply Xiao Shuhe can hurt Ziang. Don’t you know my brother is dying over you? Don’t you see him suffering? Do you care at all?
It’s past time to punish this betrayal.
General Liu does not question Huaiyi, when he approaches him with his plan. On the contrary; the general’s eyes shine with anticipation. It will start with the ones still in the camp, but they will find the prisoners who have been freed, too. The settlement records are easy to obtain. None will escape the swift justice of their swords. And if their families resist, General Liu will cut them down, too.
The spoilt, ungrateful prince may be untouchable, fine. But not his beloved people. A necessary cruelty, to finally put Xiao Shuhe in his place.
The guards are not gentle with their charge, after Ziang entrusts Huaiyi to return him to the manor. Xiao Shuhe suffers their blows in infuriating silence, as though insensible to pain.
Very well. We’ll see about that.
Huaiyi drags the defiant prisoner back to his residence – the very same that Duan Ziang commissioned for him, to exact specifications, sparing neither detail nor expense. He throws Xiao Shuhe to the ground.
“Look at you – the mere king of a fallen nation,” he sneers. “Letting you live this long was a mistake in the first place. My brother should have abandoned you long ago.”
Xiao Shuhe says nothing in his own defense.
Huaiyi pulls out the prize he received from General Liu – a flag from the prisoner camp, which the general used to wipe blood off his sword.
“You worried day and night about the lives of the Nan Hui prisoners of war,” he says, with a scoff. “Now… they are all dead and buried.” Huaiyi feels triumphant, letting the ruined fabric fall to the floor before Xiao Shuhe’s eyes. “They’re waiting for you to join them,” he snarls, out of spite.
Huaiyi watches it dawn on Xiao Shuhe, the consequences of his choices. The price that he has forced his own people to pay. The way his hand trembles, as he reaches out to the scrap of fabric.
Huaiyi almost feels drunk on the power of his hatred. “My brother is a great conqueror. Among the souls slain by his sword, a single prisoner camp hardly matters,” he gloats.
From the floor, under his breath, Xiao Shuhe murmurs to himself, full of shock and grief; Huaiyi listens gleefully, relishing every pain-filled word. “The slaughtering of prisoners of war… the people of my Nan Hui Kingdom…” He sounds absolutely devastated. “Over a hundred unarmed lives, wiped out in an instant… I never thought that Duan Ziang could be so ruthless.”
But it was not Duan Ziang who ordered the slaughter tonight. It was his devoted brother, his loyal didi. Huaiyi finally, finally feels like his equal, strong and merciless just like his gege, worthy of standing at his side. He finally accomplished something his dear brother could not – to destroy Xiao Shuhe’s prideful defiance, and avenge Ziang’s broken heart.
He reaches down to grab Xiao Shuhe by his robes. ”That’s because you’re a fool,” he hisses, right in his face.
Huaiyi stalks out the door to the residence, his black-and gold robes flying behind him. He hurries away, toward the imperial palace. Back to his beloved gege.
Brother, I have won you some peace, at last, he thinks. May it keep you well. May you live for a thousand years.
