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In the depths of the ocean, where light won’t tread,
Two lives were bound by promises dead.
He Xuan, the ghost of rage and despair,
And Shi Qingxuan, the breeze that danced unaware.
Do you remember? The day we met?
Your laughter, a melody I cannot forget.
You were warmth, a flame so bright,
While I was the storm that devours the night.
You called me friend, and I dared believe,
In a fleeting reprieve I knew I’d deceive.
For beneath my smile, my heart lay bare,
A graveyard of anguish, a festering snare.
But you, Shi Qingxuan, so full of grace,
Never saw the mask on my face.
You laughed, you danced, you called me kind,
While revenge consumed my fractured mind.
Do you hear it now? The whispers below?
The sea’s lament, the wails of woe?
Each tide that rises, each wave that breaks,
Sings of betrayal, the lives it takes.
You were their shield, their foolish pawn,
A sibling’s cruelty you never saw drawn.
I watched your joy, your blissful trust,
Knowing it would all turn to dust.
The knife was hers, but I made you bleed,
Feeding on vengeance, fulfilling my need.
Your screams, your cries, they echoed through,
As the waves roared back, “He betrayed you.”
You fell to your knees, trembling, lost,
The weight of my fury your ultimate cost.
And yet, even then, you turned to me,
With tears in your eyes, asking, “Why me?”
Do you know what it felt like to hear you break?
To see the light in your eyes forsake?
I wanted to stop, I wanted to run,
But the storm within me had already begun.
Shi Qingxuan, your laughter once healed,
Now your silence is all that’s revealed.
I see you in mirrors, in rippling streams,
A ghostly echo of fractured dreams.
Do you curse my name in the dead of night?
Do you mourn for the friend who stole your light?
I carried you, broken, through the sea,
A shattered god, bound to misery.
Your fan lies still, your voice unheard,
The wind grows cold, bereft of your word.
And I, the demon who took your song,
Will haunt these tides, where you don’t belong.
If I could take back the wrath I’ve sown,
I’d trade my vengeance to leave you alone.
But justice is cruel, and fate is a blade,
Cutting down even the bonds we’ve made.
Shi Qingxuan, do you hate me now?
Does my shadow haunt you, even somehow?
I am the specter of what we were,
A tempest that leaves nothing but blur.
Your tears still fall in the oceans deep,
A mournful dirge for those who sleep.
And I, a ghost, can only stare,
At the wreckage of love that lingers there.
The sea calls softly, the waves still sigh,
Their song a lament that will never die.
For you were the breeze, and I was the storm,
A bond that was doomed from the moment it formed.
So stay with me, in this watery grave,
Among the lost, the damned, the brave.
Shi Qingxuan, my sweetest regret,
I’ll mourn you forever, I won’t forget.
For what is revenge, if not hollow and cold?
A tale of grief that’s endlessly told.
You were my solace, my only relief,
And I, your betrayer, the thief of belief.
So let the tides rise, let the winds cry,
Let the heavens mourn as we both die.
Qingxuan, my friend, my sin, my pain,
We’ll meet again, in the endless rain.
—
Shi Qingxuan had never been one to dwell on sorrow. Even now, stripped of divinity, cast into a mortal life with nothing but his own two hands to rebuild himself, he smiled as though nothing had changed.
The people here adored him, the way he laughed easily, the way he never turned away a hungry child even when his own earnings were meager.
They did not know what he had lost.
But He Xuan did.
And still, Shi Qingxuan smiled.
He Xuan watched from the shadows, golden eyes lingering on the figure he once crushed beneath the weight of vengeance. He had come here for reasons he did not fully understand, drawn like a wave to the shore.
The wind picked up, carrying laughter to his ears, and he thought, bitterly, that perhaps some things never truly changed. Even when stripped of everything, Shi Qingxuan still shone.
But for how much longer?
Even with scarred and pained legs, even with both eyes blind from the sheer fall of heaven, Shi Qingxuan still smiled. He knelt on his mat, sun shining through every feature. He Xuan watched from afar, around corners, golden eyes boring into the face of Shi Qingxuan.
Even now, he is still beautiful. Warm brown hair cascading over his shoulders, skin still clear and bright. His smile shimmers in the light of the day, robes dirty—and yet they appear like true godly robes on the body of this man.
He watched as the man handed out what food he had to the elderly, or to the young street children.
People would sometimes hand him things.
He Xuan watched a child scurry up to Qingxuan.
"Feng-ge! Feng-ge! Have you brought a bun today?" The child giggles, feeling Qingxuan pinch his cheek softly.
The former God laughs brightly,
"Xiao-Tong, so shamelessly asking! This one has no buns..." He sighs, as if eternally disappointed in himself.
Then he reaches up and pulls a bun from behind the child's ear.
"Feng-ge did!" The child grabs the bun and quickly scoffs it, throwing his arms around Shi Qingxuan when he's finished.
"Xiao-Tong is welcome, this one will try and find some more food later." Shi Qingxuan watches the boy run off, pulling an old weiqi set towards him.
One of the few things he truly owns other than that mat and the clothes on his back.
He Xuan freezes, seeing a chance.
He silently creeps forward, changing his form in case Shi Qingxuan recognizes his voice.
He doesn't want to be associated with that.
'You called the wrong name.'
‘Ming-Xiong!’
"Ah—is someone there?" Qingxuan asks.
He Xuan takes a deep breath, "I see that you have a game—do you take opponents?"
The Windmaster throws back his head and laughs from his stomach, and He Xuan feels his stomach twist.
"Of course! In fact I'll give you the starting chance, go ahead Gongzi." He gestures to the board.
"However," he continues, "I am blind, so I'll have to ask Gongzi for a little help. Unless Gongzi takes the chance to cheat." He waggles his finger unseriously, face still caught in its eternal smile.
They play.
He Xuan shakes slightly when Shi Qingxuan asks him to help him find the piece he wants to move.
He grasps the hands that once held his disguises so long ago. He gently pulls them towards the board, lingering for a moment before letting go.
He doesn't want to let go.
They play.
And when Shi Qingxuan wins, he seems genuinely surprised.
"Gongzi didn't cheat? Hah! Giving little old me a win, how kind." He grins, hands fumbling to grab He Xuan's.
He Xuan softens.
"What's your name? We should play again."
Shi Qingxuan smiles, "Feng."
"Feng...?"
The blind man hums, "You can call me Feng-ge if you want, Gongzi."
He Xuan smirked slightly, "What if I'm older?"
"Then Feng-di!"
"What about Feng-mei or Jie?" Only He Xuan would know that.
He Xuan clenches his hands as he remembers bright lips painted with red, and supple skin beneath his own.
He remembers warm nights he shared with this person, this man, this woman. Whether he was man or woman or nothing at all.
As long as he had this person in his arms.
And now he has squandered it.
Shi Qingxuan raises his eyebrows.
"Ah..."
He Xuan quickly backtracks, "I was joking, don't worry...Feng-di."
The smile returns.
"En! Would Gongzi like anything, this one can offer uhh..." He looks around, as if forgetting he is no longer a god.
He Xuan's chest hurts.
"I don't need anything. Don't bother." He stands, and Shi Qingxuan raises his hand.
"Are you leaving?" He asks.
"Yes." Blackwater replies.
"What's your name? You never told me."
He Xuan swallows.
"He...Wu."
"He Wu? A good name!"
He Xuan sees the way those blind eyes soften so deeply at the 'Wu'. He Xuan picked it on purpose.
‘Shi Wudu, how I despise you.'
They say their goodbyes, but He Xuan just sinks into his spot in the corner, not bothering to slink back to his lair.
Crimson Rain doesn't care enough to bother him either.
Shi Qingxuan eventually lays down on his mat, shivering in the cold night wind.
He no longer has the winds at his beck and call.
He Xuan slinks forwards, looming over the sleeping figure.
He takes off his most outer robe, deep blue and made of thick silks.
He drapes over Shi Qingxuan, and the man visibly relaxes into the warmth. He Xuan runs a finger across his face, feeling the smooth and supple skin.
Shi Qingxuan was always so obsessed with his own beauty.
It's too bad his green eyes have been replaced with sickly blind white.
He Xuan keeps stroking the cheek of the former God, a smile slowly sneaking onto his face.
Then he snatches it back.
‘I got carried away.’
But he still can't stop staring.
He leans forward, both hands gently cupping Shi Qingxuan's fair face.
"Why...?" He whispers, hoarse and more hateful than he intended.
"Why didn't you choose me? Just once. He's dead...choose me now—won't you?"
He presses tighter, and a thin drop of blood slides from his nail where he punctured Shi Qingxuan’s skin.
He Xuan swipes at it, staring at the blood for a split second before realizing what he did.
'Fuck.'
He heals Shi Qingxuan with a small bit of qi, allowing the man to sink back into deep sleep before pulling away.
There's no point in him staying.
All he does is cause harm.
Shi Qingxuan, do you see me still?
In shadows that dance against your will?
His headless corpse haunts every breath I take, and your screams are the wounds that will never break.
For I am the darkness that stole your light.
And I will mourn us every night.