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General Feixiao was many things. Smart, strong-willed, confident, noble, compassionate, formidable, fierce, ruthless if needed. Alas, among her virtues, one of them was not knowing restraint when it came to drink.
And she was also far heavier than she looked.
With the help of a similarly deceptive healer, Jing Yuan exhaled as they managed to heave the General of Yaoqing onto the bed. Feixiao, ever blessed by Lan, slept through the whole ordeal of two grown, notable men struggling to carry her body to a proper resting place. Or perhaps she wasn’t blessed enough.
The healer, Jiaoqiu, wiped off his brow, a little out of breath but looking much brighter now that Feixiao wasn’t a heap on the floor. His bushy tail moved ever so slightly, and his ears were ever alert to Jing Yuan’s presence.
Jing Yuan didn’t take it personally, of course. One learned to always be vigilant on the battlefield, more so when you were lacking a core sense. Jiaoqiu could navigate his surroundings, but a person’s demeanor and intention were both another story and every bit as important.
“General,” Jiaoqiu said then, giving the proper bow all the same. “I do thank you for your assistance.”
“Ah, no need,” Jing Yuan laughed with a wave of his hand. He saw Jiaoqiu’s ear twitch, and he wondered idly if Jiaoqiu could hear even the shift of the air. He didn’t dare ask to clarify, but he remembered how Baiheng had been sensitive to the winds. She, however, had claimed a pilot’s sense, not a Foxian one.
“General Feixiao and I are comrades as well,” he went on smoothly, cursing himself internally for the pause. It was less suspicion and more sentiment, the latter of which he thought he had kept carefully controlled for centuries. But ever since he saw Yinyue-jun awaken once more in his wayward friend…
(No, it had been before that. He hadn’t seen or heard from Yingxing in centuries. He had only grasped onto whispers and murmurs of an immortal abomination on the path of Finality, leaving countless destruction in his wake. Even the familiar face printed on wanted posters didn’t seem real. But oh, they were, and the true Stellaron Hunter Blade’s gaze put them to shame.
General Huaiyin only remarked idly on how unruly his former disciple’s hair had gotten. Jing Yuan hadn’t been sure if he wanted to laugh or cry but he could admit it was unruly. That, he blamed on the poster. In reality, in shackles, Blade was much more well-groomed. There was care taken to his appearance, and Jing Yuan doubted such care came from the man himself.)
Either way, it was a weakness. One Jing Yuan knew he needed to grind under his heel. One his former master had already criticized him for and wasn’t that a headache and a half. General Feixiao had even remarked on it, and all he could do was smile and down another cup.
He, unfortunately, held his liquor all too well. Hence why he currently stood and General Feixiao currently did not, not that it made him any better. Especially not when General Feixiao had Jiaoqiu pulling the blanket over her and tucking her in oh so tenderly. Even with his sight lost, Jiaoqiu regarded her with such open care and tenderness.
“Even so,” Jiaoqiu said. “It is greatly appreciated. Normally, Moze would help me with this task, but he’s out on a mission right now and I could only turn to you, General Jing Yuan. I’m aware it is shamefully below your station to carry a drunkard to bed.”
“It is hardly below my station to carry a comrade,” Jing Yuan insisted, although part of him wondered about this dance of propriety. They partook in it often, despite having encountered one another enough times to meet the requirements of a casual friendship. They certainly had enough overlap in their relationships, with mutual ties not just to Feixiao but to little Sushang and to even littler Bailu.
No, it’s best to be cautious with me, Jing Yuan thought grimly. I’ve already proven myself to be suspect if not weak, even if General Feixiao has already forgiven me.
No doubt Feixiao has relayed those concerns and suspicions to someone she trusted, and that someone could only be Jiaoqiu. While a general needed to be steadfast and strong enough to topple a ship (but not a Xianzhou one) on their own, a bundle of arrows was still far harder to break than a singular one.
A healer turned chef, Jing Yuan considered. One who lost his sight in a gambit against Hoolay of the borisin. Certainly, Jiaoqiu has the mettle to hold his head up high. But there had always been so much more to this man’s demeanor.
Ah, but wouldn’t it be rude to continue sizing him up in silence? Such was far more improper than ogling him, although Jiaoqiu was certainly attractive enough. Perhaps Jing Yuan did have much to learn.
“With General Feixiao now properly put to rest,” Jing Yuan said, teasing just a little. If only to match Jiaoqiu’s own tone. “I suppose I should be on my way. I would hate for my presence to become intrusive.”
“Oh, no,” Jiaoqiu denied it as expected. “You’re a comrade of General Feixiao. She wouldn’t consider you intrusive. She invited you here.”
Both as a show of camaraderie and to keep an eye on him, no doubt. Feixiao could be shrewd when she wanted, but she always got too excited when it came to sharing wine.
“Ahaha… And now she’s sleeping.” It was important to keep pointing this out.
“Now she is,” Jiaoqiu agreed, ears lowering a little. “I admit, it isn’t very good host behavior. But I can continue to host you in her stead, General Jing Yuan.”
Feixiao can be shrewd, but it’s clear her healer has more skill in this regard.
Jing Yuan knew he could stand his ground. At the end of the day, Jiaoqiu was not his equal and had no right to keep him. But, perhaps, he found himself a little interested, a little curious, in this healer who would sacrifice parts of his body without a second thought, in acts of pure, unadulterated spite.
Even my master is far too proud for such acts. But, oh, Baiheng was not.
“Very well then, if you insist.”
Deference, too, was a tactic, but Jing Yuan did find himself wanting to defer. He wondered if Jiaoqiu had this sort of effect on others or if it was within his own shameful nature.
Either way, Jing Yuan did retake his seat, watching avidly as Jiaoqiu poured wine into his cup. The action was careful and assured. All Jiaoqiu had needed to do was feel around for the cup and he carried himself with grace.
When given the opportunity, Jing Yuan let his gaze sweep over Jiaoqiu’s features. The soft, defined curve of his cheek and jaw. The long, silky locks of soft, subtle pink. The length of his eyelashes as well as his pointed ears and bushy tail. Jiaoqiu clearly took pride in his appearance… Or he was used to weaponizing it to his advantage.
After all, it would be so very easy to underestimate a man who looked like this. Who acted about as agreeable and placid as this appearance would suggest if one wasn’t trained to look for the subtle acts of purpose.
Jing Yuan let himself lazily smile, voice lightening for good measure.
“You seem like you’ve done this before, Jiaoqiu.”
“I have,” Jiaoqiu said, pulling back so that the wine was at just the right level. Not enough to spill, more than what could be considered lacking. “I’ve done this both as a healer and as a chef, you know.”
“Ah,” Jing Yuan intoned. “Quite the skill.”
He was being genuine, and Jiaoqiu could tell, hence the smile. It was quite a handsome smile.
“Would you care to drink with me?”
Jiaoqiu did pause at the offer. Jing Yuan took his cup, watching his expression, not doubting that Jiaoqiu was cognizant of that.
“I can only have certain wines,” Jiaoqiu admitted quietly. “Medicinal ones. Not like what you and General Feixiao drink. I’m afraid… I am still in a shameful state.”
“It isn’t shameful,” Jing Yuan said, both as a courtesy and as a serious statement. “General Feixiao cherishes you. No doubt she carries the kind of wine you can have.”
“You are right.” This seemed to make Jiaoqiu tense. “Quite right… I see you have been observing us closely, General Jing Yuan.”
“You make it sound like I did so out of apprehension,” Jing Yuan hummed, swirling around his drink. “It is nothing more than nostalgia and longing, I assure you.”
He shouldn’t have said this, but it caused Jiaoqiu to perk up, so Jing Yuan didn’t regret it.
“I long for the days I had trusted companions as close to me as you and General Feixiao,” he went on, still without regret or resentment. “Ah, not to insult Lady Fu, General Hua, or, of course, General Feixiao herself. I suppose… One cannot help but miss that which has passed.”
“I suppose,” Jiaoqiu echoed. “But you still have quite a bit of time ahead of you, General Jing Yuan. Provided you are not planning anything foolish.”
Jing Yuan smiled, thinking of his old master and that reprehensible man with hair of gold and a demeanor as delicate (and as deceptive) as a flower.
“Perish the thought.”
“How I would like to,” Jiaoqiu murmured, and he went to fetch himself wine. He handed Jing Yuan the jar and was mindful of how Jing Yuan avoided his touch when taking it. “Ah, General, if you wanted a close bond, all you had to do was ask.”
Jing Yuan did stiffen at that.
“It would not be such a bad thing,” Jiaoqiu went on, voice dropping into a silky purr. “To be close to you as well, I think.”
Jing Yuan swallowed, but he poured Jiaoqiu’s wine with a steady hand. When handing over the cup, Jiaoqiu did brush his fingers against Jing Yuan’s own.
His fingertips were not soft. They were callused from healing and from cooking. But Jing Yuan imagined them pressed to his neck, where this refined, gentle healer could easily snuff out his life.
There was a thrill in his veins at that.
“I wouldn’t dare try to steal you from General Feixiao,” Jing Yuan laughed then, pulling away. Ugh, he was far too flustered. Not good at all. He had let himself show too much weakness and could only comfort himself with the reassurance that Jiaoqiu wasn’t an enemy.
Not now.
Not…yet.
I find myself hoping that yet never comes.
“Just think on it, General,” Jiaoqiu said, ever coaxing as though he were trying to persuade an unruly child to eat their vegetables. Jing Yuan shamefully couldn’t deny that did something for him, too. “Even tigers on a mountain must get lonely.”
They do, Jing Yuan thought almost helplessly. Heavens help us, even Aeons get lonely.
“Perhaps.”
It was best to leave it at that, but Jing Yuan watched Jiaoqiu sip from his cup and saw the shimmer of wine on his lips. And all he could do was say nothing as he licked his own.