Archive of Our Own

“It’s nothing, Yizhen,” Yin Yu insisted, even if he knew he was looking positively exhausted. “You don’t have to worry about me. Go back to your palace, alright? I’ll be okay.” He always was, in the end. And he was a ghost now, so… even less reason to worry, right?

“But shixiong!” Quan Yizhen still tried to fight him on that, “You look–”

“I look the same as I always do,” Yin Yu interrupted him, trying to sound authoritative and certain and sharp, but all he could manage was to unwittingly confirm just how little energy he actually had. “And I have a lot of work ahead of me so, if you’ll excuse me…”

Quan Yizhen frowned deeply, knowing he had no way to win. Yin Yu was a deeply stubborn man, after all, and getting him to take care of himself had always been an uphill battle! Even when he was still a disciple, Yin Yu was always worrying about other people’s well being —be it Quan Yizhen, Jian Shi, or any of his other shidis— but hated to be told to take a rest. The only person he ever listened to in that regard was their shifu, and only because he had no choice but to do so.

The only time where Yin Yu took a bit of rest in recent times, was after Quan Yizhen (with the help of Hua Cheng, Xie Lian, and He Xuan) brought him back. It took some time to stabilize his condition immediately after his soul was mended, which meant Yin Yu was forced to lay down and let the others take care of him. Mostly because there was no way for him to fight back, back then, with how weak he was.

But now that Yin Yu was back to his usual self? It was impossible to get him to stay still for long enough to count as proper rest. Old habits could be really hard to kill, and Yin Yu had way more than a century worth of overworking tendencies that he refused to change… and also a similar length of time filled with self–hatred and a deep disregard for his own needs.

All Quan Yizhen could do was watch his shixiong getting away from him, probably on the way to do some patrolling around the City —his usual way to pretend he had something to do when he actually had free time but felt too restless to lay down—.

He was not going to follow Yin Yu, even if it was tremendously hard for him to resist the impulse to do so. If he had learned something about his shixiong, was how much space he could need, and how important it was to be observant enough to know when to leave him alone and when to fight him about it.

It had been quite hard for Quan Yizhen to balance his shixiong’s need for space with his unspoken need of attention, a need that Yin Yu had never admitted out loud, but that Quan Yizhen was absolutely sure existed. He had noticed the little tells of Yin Yu’s joy whenever Quan Yizhen showed his devotion and care, even if his shixiong had tried so hard to hide them.

Despite it all, they had been working hard on mending their relationship, and had certainly made good progress on it: Quan Yizhen was allowed to freely visit the city, and sometimes Yin Yu even invited him. They slowly talked about their past grievances; Yin Yu stopped flinching when Quan Yizhen called him shixiong, and accepted some of his displays of affection. Quan Yizhen was fond of hugging his shixiong, and in turn, Yin Yu went back to his old habit of giving him headpats. On a good day, Yin Yu even praised him and called him shidi.

But there were plenty of bad days too.

Quan Yizhen was not sure of the reason why. How could it be that, even after a really, really good day, by the next morning his shixiong seemed to be so profoundly sad? In fact, he was quite sure that whenever they had a particularly happy day together, Yin Yu always looked almost broken the next day.

But he didn’t know how to ask about the reason, without making Yin Yu feel even worse. Because whenever that happened, Yin Yu always asked him for space.

To Yin Yu, the answer was simple: guilt. A bottomless pit of it, an endless stream of reasons why he was unworthy of that happiness. And a deep–seated fear of destroying it all again, even if all he wanted was to protect this newfound source of warmth.

Don’t listen to that fear, A-Yu, Xie Lian told him, time and time again. You’re not alone. Yizhen will be there to solve whatever problem appears on the way. You’re doing alright!

He knew it was the truth, but it only made him feel even guiltier than before.

That guilt pushed him to push Quan Yizhen away in turn, whenever he was feeling like trash. His shidi already had done so much for him, already had to deal with so much pain on his account. What right did he have to ask for Quan Yizhen’s comfort on those occasions? Of course Quan Yizhen ended up sad because of him —that was what Yin Yu did best, apparently— but Yin Yu refused to ask him to do something to make him feel better.

This time, as he always did, Yin Yu went to look for something to occupy his mind with. It usually happened to be some belligerent idiot causing problems; now that Yin Yu was a ghost, indulging in a bit of (justified) violence helped him drown his other feelings. Yet another thing he had to accept about himself after coming back, though the sheer necessity of it made it marginally easier for him to bear.

For better or for worse, he was not the same as before. Even if lots of things stayed the same… he had changed a lot, too. His emotions and his thoughts —that already gave him plenty of hell when he was still alive— now felt more intense, more torturous, demanded more of his attention, especially the negative ones.

But whatever. The important thing was dealing with it, so he readied his guandao and went to look for some troublemakers to obliterate.

What Yin Yu did not consider, though, was that this new self of his, had limitations. He had kept pushing and pushing, as if there was no way for him to ever need to rest, or stop, or pay attention to his soul again. As if his soul was intact, instead of painstakingly mended through the efforts of the people that loved him dearly.

I never thought I was going to say this, but you’re worse than that fluffy idiot, Yin Yu. Hua Chengzhu had warned him before. He was, of course, much more blunt than His Highness, when it came to giving him advice. You need to pay attention to yourself. You’re not invulnerable. If you don’t stop, it will cost you, Yin Yu.

Ah, what would be the worse that could happen? It was not like he was going to disperse from overworking.

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Indeed, he was not going to disperse, but burning up with a fever induced from his unstable soul —a situation that, in turn, came from his own conflicting feelings and desires, throwing his qi out of balance— was not out of the question.

He should have known better than disregarding Hua Chengzhu’s warnings and His Highness advice.

But that was going to be a future concern. For when the fever subsided and Yin Yu recovered enough to be able to think clearly.

Right then, he was delirious from the fever, to the point he had no idea where he was anymore, or worse, he didn’t even remember who he was.

“It’s okay, shixiong. I’m here, it will be alright, okay?” a soft voice said, dripping with both love and worry. “Xie-xiong said that with rest and proper care, it will all be alright again.” For some reason, whoever it was that voice belonged to, made him feel soothed, right before he lost his consciousness once more.

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It had been Hua Cheng who alerted Quan Yizhen about the situation. He had sent one of his butterflies after Yin Yu, after noticing he was not replying to his calls over their private communication array, only to find him delirious in an alley, but thankfully still intact. He used his dice to go get Yin Yu, and then brought him back to Yin Yu’s personal wing in Paradise Manor. After checking Yin Yu’s meridians and determining he wasn’t in any imminent risk, he called Quan Yizhen, who of course rushed there as fast as he was able to.

Yin Yu was laying on his bed, still unconscious, but unharmed. From time to time, his eyelids fluttered without opening, or he squirmed lightly, without waking up. His face looked flushed, with that paradoxical, purplish tone of stagnation that death left behind, and his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, which was clearly abnormal.

Quan Yizhen approached the bed, knelt beside it, and took hold of one of Yin Yu’s hands. “What happened to shixiong?” he asked, without taking his eyes away from Yin Yu’s face. “I swear shixiong wasn’t looking this bad last time I saw him!”

Hua Cheng kept his silence, until Quan Yizhen finally stood up to look at his face.

“He overexerted himself, as usual.” The face Quan Yizhen made at that was both knowing and defiant. That clearly was not all, and he knew there was something that Hua Cheng was not telling him. “His soul is slightly unstable right now. It’s not as serious as it sounds,” Hua Cheng immediately added, seeing Quan Yizhen’s expression. “But it’s going to take a few days for his fever to go down.”

“What caused the instability?” Quan Yizhen was absolutely confused, and felt dread creeping out from the depths of his stomach. “Didn’t you say that we successfully mended his soul, Crimson Rain?”

Hua Cheng looked back at Quan Yizhen with a sharp gaze, that never failed to make him feel like an insect about to be pinned down on a board, or worse, dissected. But Quan Yizhen didn’t fear him, though.

“You said it. We mended it. But emotional turmoil can rouse the qi and strain the ‘seams’ we left, so to speak.” That was the simplest way to put it. “Just take care of him, as you would with anyone who’s sick.”

“How would that help? Is not a physical illness!” Quan Yizhen questioned, feeling like he was missing some important piece of information. “Would sharing my qi help with this?” That had helped, back when they…

“If you pay attention to what he says, you will know what to do.” Hua Cheng didn’t want to intervene further than that. After all, this was also a lesson that Yin Yu had to learn, and therefore, Yin Yu had to experience the consequences of his actions. In this case, probably by babbling deliriously but sincerely through his feverish state. “He will let you know.”

Quan Yizhen wasn’t too sure of exactly what that meant (how would his shixiong let him know of anything, if he was unconscious, or delirious with fever?) but he assured Hua Cheng that he would do his best. Or ask for help, if he needed it.

Xie Lian arrived then, bringing with him a bag of renewal powder to help treat Yin Yu’s fever. Above it all, Xie Lian wanted to help Quan Yizhen understand the situation better, since he had more patience for that than his husband. Hua Cheng had already explained all his findings to him through their communication array before Quan Yizhen’s arrival, so he had a good grasp of the situation.

“Think of this like… the earlier stages of developing a qi deviation, or a heart demon,” Xie Lian explained, which only got Quan Yizhen more worried, understandably looking back at him with horror. “I’m not saying it’s the same!” Xie Lian gesticulated wildly, “only that it works a bit like that. Between his exhaustion and his emotions in disarray, his qi is acting up, and that’s what’s forcing him to take care of his needs, and rest.”

Quan Yizhen sighed deeply. He didn’t mind taking care of his shixiong, of course: that would always feel like a privilege to him. The part that worried him was the emotional turmoil that Yin Yu was experiencing. What if his presence made it all worse for shixiong?

“-zhen…” Yin Yu’s voice shattered the awkward silence. “Yi…zhen…”

Shixiong was calling for him?

“Please let us know if you need anything else, Yizhen,” Xie Lian said with a reassuring smile, and then took Hua Cheng by an arm, dragging him out of the room to go back to their own side of the manor as soon as possible.

Quan Yizhen went to sit on the edge of the bed, and took one of Yin Yu’s hands between his again.

“I’m here, shixiong.”

Yin Yu did not reply to him, nor did he open his eyes, but looked way less restless than before, now that he heard his voice.

What was he supposed to do now?

Quan Yizhen had no experience taking care of someone else while sick, but had plenty of experience being the one receiving that care, way back when he was still a kid. It had been Yin Yu, of course, who patiently helped him whenever he was sick or injured.

He quickly made a mental note of the things he could remember that Yin Yu did for him back then whenever he got a fever:

• made him drink plenty of water;

• prepared his medicines, and always had something sweet for him to eat after, as a little bribe to get him to take the bitter herbal concoctions;

• helped him take a bath, to wash away the sweat, and then got him to change into fresh inner robes;

• changed his bedding and made sure he had plenty of pillows to rest comfortably;

• made some congee for him to eat…

• And the most important of it all: he stayed by his side, until his fever went down and he stopped fearing being alone.

He wasn’t sure of where to start, though.

Quan Yizhen did not want to let go of Yin Yu’s hand, but at the same time, he knew that he needed to do something. that he couldn’t just stay there glued to shixiong if he wanted to help him feel better.

One of his hands went to cup Yin Yu’s cheek, his thumb softly caressing the skin for a moment, before moving aside the hair that clung to his shixiong’s forehead, and bending down to kiss it. It was so strange to feel Yin Yu burning like that! He was usually cold, given he was a ghost, unless he intentionally tried to make his appearance look ‘normal’ and his body mimic a living one.

Right before Quan Yizhen could sit back again, Yin Yu let out a deep sigh, and for a moment, his expression turned into a one much more relaxed, but soon after, his eyebrows knitted again.

“It’s okay, shixiong. I’m here, it will be alright, okay?” Quan Yizhen whispered, and kissed that sweaty forehead again. “Xie-xiong said that with rest and proper care, it will all be alright again.”

That seemed to do the trick. Seeing that Yin Yu looked calmer, and still deeply asleep, Quan Yizhen finally stood up again, ready to go back into motion.

The first thing he did was bring plenty of fresh water, putting some to boil to prepare the fever medicine; then, he went to the kitchens of Paradise Manor to get some sweets, in case that Yin Yu wanted to have some, after downing the bitter concoction.

After coming back, he made sure there was clean bedding and clean inner robes for Yin Yu, so that after helping him get a bath, he’d be comfortable and clean.

But first: giving him the medicine!

He perfectly remembered the taste of it. The idea of making his shixiong drink it almost pained him, but he had to follow the instructions Xie-xiong and Crimson Rain gave him!

So he prepared it, and took a cup of it, a spoon, a cup of water, and one of the sweet pastries he got in the kitchen, left everything on the little table besides Yin Yu’s bed, and then sat on the edge of the bed to try to wake him up, as delicately as he could.

“Shixiong, wake up,” he whispered, shaking Yin Yu’s shoulder, gently. “You need to drink some water and take your medicine, shixiong.”

Yin Yu opened his eyes, just a tiny bit, but his gaze was unfocused and he seemed to be confused, his pupils wandering erratically.

“I’m going to help you sit, okay?” Quan Yizhen did his best to not let his feelings of concern show in his voice. “You don’t have to do anything, I’ll take care of you, shixiong.”

Moving Yin Yu around wasn’t hard at all: Quan Yizhen was strong, and Yin Yu did not even resist him, and even leaned against his chest, while Quan Yizhen held him and repositioned the pillows; then, he helped Yin Yu slowly lean back into them.

“There you go, shixiong,” Quan Yizhen whispered, and reached for the cup of water. “Now, you need to drink some water, alright, shixiong? I’ll help you, so you don’t have to worry.”

He held Yin Yu’s head, careful and reverent, and brought the cup to his lips, slowly helping him drink, making sure he didn’t choke. It was a slow process, but Yin Yu downed it all, even if he kept his eyes closed; Quan Yizhen kept mumbling encouraging words and holding him, until the last drop of water was gone.

“Now I’ll give you some medicine, shixiong. I know it tastes bad, but you will feel better if you drink it, I promise.”

Yin Yu tried to open his eyes again, doing his best to focus on Quan Yizhen’s face.

“Shi…di?” The word was barely intelligible, but it made Quan Yizhen’s heart skip a beat.

“Yes, shixiong, it’s me!” Quan Yizhen spoke in a cheery voice and normal volume now.

“Hmm…” Yin Yu closed his eyes again. “I’m… tired…” He didn’t seem to really know where he was, but at least he had recognized Quan Yizhen! That was a good thing, right?

“I know you’re tired, shixiong, but you have to drink your medicine!” Quan Yizhen scrambled for the cup, and got a spoonful of it. “Here, open your mouth, shixiong.”

Yin Yu obeyed, not without making a hilarious face at the bitter taste, but he took it, spoonful after spoonful, until it was all gone too.

“That’s it, shixiong!” Quan Yizhen left the utensils aside, and used a handkerchief to clean Yin Yu’s lips. “Do you want to have something sweet now?”

Yin Yu shook his head, weakly, and tried to speak again.

“Wa…ter.”

Quan Yizhen immediately brought a new cup of water, and helped him drink, just like before. Yin Yu looked at him, still unfocused, but he already looked a bit better. After he finished the new cup of water, he closed his eyes again, and burrowed into the pillows that Quan Yizhen had piled for him.

“I’m going to prepare a bath for you, alright, shixiong? You will feel much better after that.”

All he got as a response was a weak “mn”.

He ran to the baths —of course Yin Yu’s wing of the manor had its own baths, separated from the ones Hua Cheng used—. After filling the bathing pool with fresh water, he used a warming talisman to get it to a barely warm temperature. That should help his shixiong feel more comfortable and get his fever down, even if just a bit. Quan Yizhen remembered that, whenever he was sick and his fever was too high, shixiong had helped him this way, while they waited for the medicine to help him sweat it out.

When he got back to Yin Yu's room, he had borrowed further down the covers, so Quan Yizhen had to fish him out, among his weak protests about how cold he felt.

“Let’s go to the baths, shixiong,” he said, as he took Yin Yu in his arms. “Don’t worry, you will feel better, and I’m here with you,” Quan Yizhen reassured, as he started walking towards the baths.

But Yin Yu’s skin was burning again, and he started mumbling under his breath.

“What… happened to me?” Yin Yu got restless, trying to escape from Quan Yizhen’s embrace. “Why are you…? Shidi, I have to…”

Quan Yizhen held him tighter, effectively trapping him between his arms.

“Shixiong needs to relax and let this shidi take care of him,” was Quan Yizhen’s firm response.

Getting into the bathing pool was a bit of a struggle, though: he had to take Yin Yu’s clothes off, but his shixiong was weak and uncooperative, still complaining about the cold, and how he needed to work, while shivering from his fever. On the other hand, Quan Yizhen also needed to take off his own clothes, or he would be too uncomfortable sitting in the bath in wet inner robes!

But he managed to do it, and soon they were both half submerged in the tepid water. Yin Yu, sitting on Quan Yizhen’s lap, clung to him, seeking his warmth.

Quan Yizhen undid what remained of Yin Yu’s braid, and then, with the utmost care, disentangled his shixiong’s arms from his torso, so he could hold him and help him completely submerge his body in the water.

“So… so cold,” Yin Yu said, stretching his arms to reach for Quan Yizhen again.

“It will only be for a while, shixiong, I promise,” Quan Yizhen replied, using one arm to keep Yin Yu’s body submerged, and the other to hold his hands, caressing over them and letting Yin Yu squeeze it.

After a quarter of a shichen, Yin Yu had calmed down, the temperature of his body now way less scorching than before. Quan Yizhen decided it was good enough progress, and embraced Yin Yu again, helping him sit between his legs before taking a wash cloth, and delicately using it to clean Yin Yu from the sweat that had been covering his skin.

Yin Yu leaned against Quan Yizhen’s chest and let out a sigh, before mumbling something unintelligible.

“What was it, shixiong? Are you alright? Does something hurt?”

“My Yizhen’s touch… feels better than I imagined…” Quan Yizhen had no time to process much, because Yin Yu put a trembling hand on top of his and kept going. “This shixiong… is…“ He did not finish the phrase, and took Quan Yizhen’s other arm too, so that he was trapped in his embrace.

“I’m glad that it feels good, shixiong. I told you the bath was going to help!” Quan Yizhen archived the my Yizhen and the better than I imagined part for later, and held Yin Yu a bit tighter, letting his head rest over his shixiong’s shoulder. After a while of that, he decided it would be best to get his shixiong ready for bed again, though.

“Let me finish washing your body, shixiong. Then I’ll get you back to your bed.”

Yin Yu mumbled a “mn”, letting his arms fall into the water again.

Quan Yizhen had seen Yin Yu’s naked body many times, of course, as they grew up in the same sect and they had shared the baths and trained together under the scorching heat of summer… but never from such a close distance. Never being allowed to touch, to observe, to caress.

So he took his time with it, making sure he had scrubbed away all the soap and sweat, every li of Yin Yu’s body now clean, thanks to Quan Yizhen’s devoted hands. He washed Yin Yu’s hair too, massaging his scalp and feeling the relief of how shiny it was, how each strand was well defined; every part of his shixiong was as elegant and beautiful as he remembered. The fever and the instability of his soul were not severe enough to damage his form, and it made Quan Yizhen’s anxiety much less pressing.

Yin Yu still looked so defenseless, though. It worried him… but it also felt like a privilege. To have Yin Yu relaxed in his arms, naked, cuddling against his chest instead of keeping that weird distance he always tried to put between them.

Quan Yizhen already suspected that said distance was not something that Yin Yu truly wanted, but never found a way to ask without feeling like he was doing something wrong.

Ahhh, it was so hard to know what to do sometimes, when it came to shixiong!

How to be sure if he was being honest or not? How to help him be more honest without offending him by insinuating he was lying?

At some point in the past he had blindly trusted Yin Yu’s words, taking them at face value, but now he knew that things were not that simple, that Yin Yu was always hiding behind many more masks than the ceramic one he wore as the Waning Moon Officer. That his mind was a complicated place, full of contradictions.

Of course Quan Yizhen wanted to help Yin Yu work through all that, but… it was complicated. They had made progress, talked about a lot of things, and had fun together again. But always, without fault, came a moment when Yin Yu’s eyes changed, his expression betraying that something painful happened inside his mind.

This time at least, Quan Yizhen wasn’t feeling as powerless, since Yin Yu had let his guard down and the distance between them was reduced because of it. Quan Yizhen was allowed to take care of Yin Yu, to show his love and devotion openly, to protect him in this vulnerable state.

“Shidi…” Yin Yu’s voice took him out of his reverie, a quiet whisper against the crook of his neck, where Yin Yu had taken refuge, “…I’m cold…”

Right, right. He would have to continue his musings later!

Quan Yizhen rinsed them both one last time, before finally getting out of the bath and drying them with a pulse of warm qi; then, he helped Yin Yu put on a clean set of inner robes, and sat him on a stool while Quan Yizhen changed into clean inner robes too. After that, he brushed his shixiong’s hair, applied a bit of floral oil, and braided it loosely.

“Let’s go back to your room, shixiong,” Quan Yizhen said, as he took Yin Yu in his arms again. “I’ll have you sit on the armchair for a bit so I can change the bedding, alright?”

“Mhm…” Yin Yu mumbled. His forehead was still quite hot, and now that they were out of the water, he started trembling: the fever was clearly still not nearly gone. “But be quick…”

Quan Yizhen got it done in no time, and to his surprise, Yin Yu clung to him as soon as he placed him under the covers, refusing to go.

“I’m cold,” his shixiong announced, in a tired whisper, “shidi has to… stay with me.”

Which Quan Yizhen did, since Yin Yu was actually trembling. Quan Yizhen still remembered how horrendous it felt to have such a high fever, and since his body temperature was naturally warmer than average, at least he would be able to help his shixiong feel a bit better. So he got under the covers with Yin Yu, making sure to snuggle him comfortably.

It was a long, long night, though: whenever Yin Yu fell asleep, he had nightmares and talked in his sleep. He repeatedly apologized to Quan Yizhen, which in turn broke his heart. Quan Yizhen needed no more apologies from his shixiong! But at the same time, he could see that the events in their past kept torturing Yin Yu so much that he needed to ask for forgiveness, that it was important to him.

At several points during that night, Yin Yu woke up, half delirious, to check Quan Yizhen’s neck and pulse, to make sure he was okay, that he wasn’t bleeding. No matter how many times Quan Yizhen repeated that he was okay, that everything was okay, Yin Yu still brought his hands to the faded line of the scar on the front of his neck, and poured some of his qi into it, as if that would make any difference, as if it could make it disappear, along with the pain of that fateful day.

That night was a constant loop of apologies, nightmares, delirious worry, desperate streams of qi and tears.

I’m so sorry for not defending you from those arrogant Officials in the Heavens.

I’m so sorry for being a disappointment.

I’m so sorry for being a liar and a coward.

I’m so sorry for letting my hate get the best of me.

I’m sorry for running away and hurting you so much.

I’m sorry for all the suffering I brought you.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.

Quan Yizhen kept reassuring him, the whole night. That he was forgiven. That it was all in the past. That all Quan Yizhen wanted was for shixiong to forgive himself, and smile again, and let Quan Yizhen cherish him.

In the depth of night, after a particularly long stretch of time spent hopelessly sharing his qi, Yin Yu seemed to feel better, or at least, he wasn’t acting as restless as before, and snuggled against Quan Yizhen’s chest, embracing him as hard as he could, probably because of how comforting his warmth felt.

Quan Yizhen was about to fall asleep, thinking that Yin Yu had calmed down enough to sleep until the morning… He was wrong, though: his shixiong started talking again, but this time his words sounded different, enough to make Quan Yizhen wake up fully once more.

Yin Yu was talking to him in their old accent from the West, the one that they hid when talking to the other officials, the one that Quan Yizhen had not heard —or used— for such a long time that he had almost forgotten about it. It was a bittersweet sort of comfort, not only from that familiar tone and cadence, but because of what Yin Yu said.

He talked of those times when it was Quan Yizhen who was sick in bed with Yin Yu taking care of him. Of how he never thought he’d be the one needing such care. Of how good his shidi was being. Of how much he enjoyed being pampered by his shidi. Of how comfortable he felt, how loved. How he thought he didn’t deserve this, but selfishly wanted to have more and more of that. More of Quan Yizhen’s attention, and his warmth, and his care. How he knew he should be ashamed, that he should know better than this. Better than wanting to have his shidi in his bed every night. Better than wanting his shidi’s qi cleansing his meridians, better than wanting to spoil his shidi when he recovered enough for that. Better than wanting to wake up next to him every morning.

Quan Yizhen just held Yin Yu tighter against his chest and kissed his forehead, and talked to him too, using the same old dialect they shared. He said that shixiong shouldn’t hold back anymore. That there was no need for that, because Quan Yizhen wanted the same things. That if holding back those feelings was the reason why he got sick, then he was going to scold shixiong as soon as he recovered, but also would spoil him and make sure to take care of him for as long as he existed. That he was going to make sure to compensate for the time they lost because of his shixiong’s stubbornness.

And Yin Yu laughed.

It was such an adorable sound, that Quan Yizhen could not resist the urge to kiss all over his face, which only made Yin Yu laugh more, until their lips met, in a soft, slow kiss, which Quan Yizhen also used as a chance to share some of his own qi with his shixiong.

“This is such a nice dream,” Yin Yu mumbled against Quan Yizhen’s lips, about to fall asleep again.

“It’s not a dream, shixiong,” Quan Yizhen whispered, but Yin Yu finally had calmed down for real, this time falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽☀︎☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

As soon as morning came, Quan Yizhen left the bed, to prepare more medicine for Yin Yu, and also make breakfast for both of them. Fortunately, Yin Yu’s fever was much better now, and Quan Yizhen felt optimistic about the whole situation. He left Yin Yu tucked in bed, in a comfortable and relaxed position, and went to the kitchen to start cooking.

He decided to go for a simple congee, knowing it was Yin Yu’s favored meal for whenever someone was sick (Yin Yu included). It was light and comforting, easy to prepare, and its taste was tinged with nostalgia, especially since Quan Yizhen knew exactly how Yin Yu liked to have it.

He washed some rice while humming the songs he still remembered from his time as a disciple, making sure to be thorough with this step, even if he disliked feeling the wet grains of rice against his hand. It was for shixiong, and thus it had to be absolutely perfect. If he didn’t wash the rice properly, the texture would be all wrong in the end!

He carefully measured the amount of water he would need to cook the rice —he could hear Yin Yu in his mind, telling him it was eight parts of water per one part of rice— and then, while he waited for the rice to boil, he cut the few other ingredients he was going to use.

Yin Yu preferred his congee to be on the simpler side, at least when it was meant to aid in physical recovery, so Quan Yizhen only grabbed some garlic, some ginger, some salt, sesame oil and a bunch of thinly sliced, pickled mustard greens, that would be used as a topping.

He added everything except the oil and the toppings to the boiling mix, and absentmindedly stirred it as he waited for the texture to be right. He personally liked his congee a bit thicker, but of course this time he was making it following Yin Yu’s preferences.

It was cute to think of those times when Yin Yu showed him how to prepare some basic recipes, teaching him how to hold the knife to chop veggies, how to properly and safely prepare cuts of meat, chicken and fish, which seasonings to use… It was an important skill to have, especially if he ever needed to go in some extended mission on his own. Back then, they had been far, far away from being able to sustain themselves through inedia.

Back then, there were not many chances for Quan Yizhen to prepare food for Yin Yu, or take care of him in any meaningful way, given he was Yin Yu’s shidi, and Yin Yu was his shixiong, a really good one, always protective and steadfast, a safe presence that rarely showed any weaknesses or needs.

Now, Quan Yizhen was glad to finally see those walls that Yin Yu kept up for so long, finally coming down. Even if it took a scare like this one for it to happen. Even if he knew that Yin Yu was probably going to resist him a lot as soon as he went back to his usual self.

It seemed that, with Yin Yu, the right answer was to push him a bit, force him to admit the things his heart was both too scared and so desperate to acknowledge, those desires he tried to ignore, those wishes he felt ashamed about.

Previously, Quan Yizhen had been hesitant to test those boundaries, but now that Yin Yu had said so much, that he had shown him that those feelings were mutual, Quan Yizhen was determined to stand his ground and show his shixiong exactly how reciprocal it all was, how they wanted the same things.

When the rice reached the consistency he wanted, he took it out of the fire and added the last few details, tasted it to correct the salt, and finally served two portions, carefully adding the toppings and then placing them on a tray, along with the cutlery for it, a cup of water, and the medicine for Yin Yu.

His shixiong was still asleep in bed, an image so sweet to Quan Yizhen that he hurried to put the tray over the side table, and then he sat on the edge of the bed, to delicately caress Yin Yu’s cheek until he stirred.

“Good morning, shixiong,” Quan Yizhen whispered.

Yin Yu slowly opened his eyes: they looked much clearer now, even if he seemed to still be a bit confused.

“Yizhen? What… what are you doing here?” Yin Yu sat up, and realized then that Quan Yizhen had been caressing his face, a fact that made his eyes open bigger, almost comically.

“I brought you breakfast, and more medicine for your fever,” Quan Yizhen replied, pointing to the tray with the steaming bowls of congee. “This shidi is going to keep taking care of you until you fully recover from your fever. And after that, too.”

“Keep taking care of you?” Then, that means…

Yin Yu looked back at Quan Yizhen’s face, finding a soft, endeared expression there, eyes full of tenderness, waiting for him to say anything, to accept that gift that Quan Yizhen was offering.

That means that it wasn’t a dream.

That means he listened to all those things I said. That he did all those things… and still wants to be here. He still stayed with me.

Yin Yu kept studying Quan Yizhen’s expression for a while, the silence between them still unbroken, but their words from some hours ago still echoing inside his heart. The promises Quan Yizhen had made, and the adorable way in which he had scolded him.

Yin Yu smiled.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Yizhen.” His hand found Quan Yizhen’s, interlacing their fingers.

“Do you want some congee, shixiong?” Quan Yizhen asked with a smile.

“Mn.”

Quan Yizhen took the tray and placed it over Yin Yu’s lap.

The congee looked exactly like the recipe Yin Yu used to make for them. Would it taste like that, too? He used his free hand to grab the spoon —he didn’t want to let go of Yizhen’s hand yet— and brought a spoonful to his lips. The consistency was perfect, the flavor light and still delicious, its warmth instantly comforting.

It tasted like home.

“It’s exactly how I like it, Yizhen.”

“Yes, I know. I tried my best! And I can make it for you whenever you want me to, shixiong.”

“Yeah, I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

Their hands stayed intertwined, long after their meal was gone.