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urb3x_freak: oh shit he's rly going for it
ozz_zzn: YILING NO
chaochao: lmfao he's fine he won't fall, it's yiling
explorawr: that roof is high af tho
explorawr: can't believe he actually climbed all the way to the top
yilingfan123: it's yiling lol he'll do anything if you dare him to
sangie: i wanna see the insiiiiiiiide
sangie: omg did he fall??
ozz_zzn: wait shit
urb3x_freak: yiling you good lol?
explorawr: i'm sure he's fine dw, he's fallen before
urb3x_freak: yiling answer us bro
ozz_zzn: omg is he okay
chaochao: damn can't hear anything
yilingfan123: yiling???
Mod_ChengCheng has ended the stream "EXPLORING AN ABANDONED SHRINE [YILING_URBEX TAKES ON CRAZY SUBSCRIBER DARE]"
It's the glare of the sun that finally brings Wei Ying back to the surface. The golden glow is so bright through his eyelids that at first he doesn't even bother opening his eyes, just grimaces against the ache in his shoulder from where he'd fallen.
It doesn't hurt as much as he'd expected it to, thankfully. In fact, for the fall he'd taken he feels remarkably fine — a quick roll of his neck and a flex of both legs lets him know that everything is still in working order, despite a few small twinges here and there. Shielding his face from the light with one hand, he finally manages to peel his eyes open as he cranes his neck upwards, gazing out of the hole in the ceiling that he'd come crashing down through. He has a clear line of sight up out to the night sky, splintered wooden beams giving way to the shattered remains of roof tiles that tell a tale of exactly which part of the old shrine's roof had given way under his feet. Wei Ying heaves in a lungful of cool, damp air and wonders just how much Jiang Cheng is going to chew him out for this.
He blinks.
The sky above him is scattered with stars. Where the hell is that sunlight coming from?
Wei Ying shifts, pushing himself up on his elbows. The ground underneath him shifts too, moving with him in a way that the ground doesn't often seem to. Under his fingers he traces wide, round bumps, smooth like shallow cobblestones, but he's never felt any stone with a warmth to it like this. Stranger still, though, is that glaring sunlight just ahead of him, a gleaming golden orb glowing radiant in the darkness of the shrine chamber. What the hell is this strange, small sun, and how is it here, burning outside the safety of the sky? He's never seen anything like it before — Wei Ying can't help but draw nearer, bathing himself in light.
Then the sun blinks.
With a shriek, Wei Ying scrambles backwards gracelessly, but the ground seems to work against him now, slithering and coiling out from under his body as the sun rises away from him, higher and higher. It's too dark in here to make out much detail, the only light the glow of that sun — an eye, Wei Ying realizes now, a great golden eye that is joined by another as whatever monstrous creature that has him in its clutches turns to draw itself up to a fearsome height, massive body a pitch black shadow against the murky darkness of the shrine. Paralyzed with fear, he cannot even bring himself to scream. He'd joked about needing something to liven up his streams lately, but "being eaten by a monster live on camera" hadn't been all that high on his list. He squeezes his eyes shut and hopes it will be quick.
You're awake, he hears, in a voice that sounds like silk and incense and coming home.
Wei Ying cracks open one eye to stare upwards. He doesn't do much more than stare for a long while, locked in a standoff with those piercing golden eyes. Eventually, the dark mass shifts.
My apologies. You mortals have such weak vision, I forget myself, it says in complete sincerity. It blinks again glacially, and one by one the old stone lamps around the room flicker to life.
He can see the beast properly now, the soft flicker of firelight glinting off its skin. No, not skin. Scales. White, pearly scales, some as large as his palm, covering a long serpentine body that coils and twists about the room in elegant arches. A pale blue mane streaks down the center of its back, straight down between two regal horns that crown its head right down to the tip of its tail. The creature sits like a statue of polished jade, legs folded neatly in front of it, and Wei Ying lets his gaze travel up, up, up the sweeping arc of its neck to settle on its enormous head, on those deep golden eyes that fix him with a gaze so ancient that he feels like little more than a speck of dust.
"You're a dragon," Wei Ying blurts. What else is there to say? It's a fucking dragon. He feels the tiniest twinge of regret that he hadn't thought to say anything cooler, something more profound, but there's really no scripting this sort of thing. A soft gust of air envelops him, caressing the loose hair that falls by his face, and Wei Ying realizes the thing is laughing at him.
An astute observation, the dragon says. Its mouth doesn't move, yet he hears it in his mind, as clear as the peal of a bell.
"You're a dragon. And you're talking to me. In my mind."
If you prefer silence, I can acquiesce.
"No! No, that's not…" Wei Ying scrubs a hand over his face, knuckling his eyes to make sure he's really awake and this isn't all just a fever dream. "Just give me a second. This is a lot to take in. You're sure I didn't hit my head or something?"
The dragon's eyes drift lazily to the hole in the ceiling and back down again. It would not surprise me. You fell from quite a height.
Despite the absurdity of the situation, he can't help but bark a surprised laugh. "Yeah, sorry about your roof. Guess my foot slipped or something." Now that he's a little more aware of his surroundings he chances a look down to where he sits, cradled in a coil of the dragon's tail like a precious gem. "I guess I should thank you for catching me, huh?"
Almost horse-like, the dragon flicks one ear, eyes narrowing. No. For that, you should thank my guqin.
With an otherworldly grace that does not befit its size, it turns its massive head to a sorry pile of splintered wood and silken strings. The expression on its face doesn't change, but there's a melancholy to the gesture that's so human that Wei Ying feels like he should throw himself to the floor and apologize a hundred times over.
"Shit. I'm really sorry about that," he says with a wince. "Though I guess if I hadn't fallen on it, you'd still be trapped inside. So maybe I did you a favor by breaking it?"
Wei Ying imagines that it is a supremely difficult task to confuse a being as ancient as a dragon. He seems to have achieved it anyway.
Trapped inside? It rumbles with a soft snort. I'm afraid I don't follow.
He thumbs at his nose, flashing the creature what he hopes is a winning smile. "Isn't that how these things are supposed to go? You're some ancient, mighty spirit, sealed inside an ancient artifact with no hope of ever escaping until a plucky young explorer comes along and sets you free by accident. I feel like you're supposed to grant me a wish, or sweep me off on some great adventure, or something like that."
At least, that's what Wei Ying had read in books, but if the disdain with which the dragon rolls its eyes is any indication, not all fiction is born from truth.
Mortals, it scoffs, always making up stories. There is no seal, human. You did me no favor by trespassing in this shrine. I am here because this is my home. The guqin was here because I decided it should be so. There is no grand tale to be told of our meeting.
"Speak for yourself," Wei Ying mutters, feeling more than a little silly. No grand tale, indeed. It's going to take him weeks to get Jiang Cheng to believe this. "So… The guqin wasn't some spooky ancient artifact? I haven't destroyed centuries worth of culture by falling on it with my ass?
Ancient, perhaps, and certainly destroyed at this point. But no. When all is said and done, it was just a guqin.
"So what the hell was it doing just sitting around in an old shrine?"
The dragon stares at him for what feels like hours. Finally, it tilts its head and says haltingly, Do you humans not make music any more? It was here because I like to play it. Is such a concept so confusing to you?
Wei Ying knows that he is talking to an ancient spirit, knows that he should act with at least some decorum, but the creature manages to look so perturbed that he lasts barely a second before he bursts into laughter, the sound echoing brightly through the wide room. For a moment, the dragon rears up in surprise, but the longer Wei Ying laughs, the more it seems to settle as it listens to him until eventually it joins in, a low purr rolling deep in its chest that grows so loud it practically rattles Wei Ying's bones.
"God, I feel like such an idiot," Wei Ying finally gasps, the absurdity of the situation sinking in. "I guess dragons have to have hobbies too, right? I'm really sorry I broke your guqin, Mr Dragon. Seriously. Is there any way I can make it up to you?"
There's a rustle of scales as the dragon lowers its head, still rumbling complacently. Do not fret, little human, it replies as it nudges at Wei Ying, its silken nose almost the size of his entire body. The loss of a simple trinket from my hoard has in turn granted me a treasure most pleasing.
"And what treasure would that be, oh great and mighty spirit?"
He laughs to himself as he waits for the dragon's answer, expecting a riddle or some sly remark, but it simply watches him silently, golden gaze fixed on his face. It begins to dawn on him, then — slowly at first, and then all at once.
"…Maybe I'm misunderstanding, but you don't mean me, right?" Wei Ying asks with a nervous chuckle, and as the dragon continues to stare, his smile fades from his face. "You're kidding. You can't mean me. Say something, please."
Is such a thing so difficult to believe?
"You can't just collect me like some trinket! I'm a human! I can't just sit in a shrine forever until I waste away!"
And who is asking that of you? Wei Ying's clothes rustle against his skin as the dragon snorts. The world is wider and more complex than you know, mortal. My laying claim to you does not mean that you are bound to this place.
"And what does it mean?"
Wei Ying is certain that if dragons could shrug, this one would do so.
It means that you are mine. You may go wherever you please, do whatever you like. It will not stop me from protecting you like any other treasure in my hoard.
Protection. What does that even mean? The thought of it makes his head spin, but even Wei Ying can admit that being protected by a dragon, of all things, doesn't sound too terrible.
You are an adventurer, are you not? An explorer, the dragon prompts with a flick of its tail. I could take you to places you have never dreamed of, show you sights you could not hope to even imagine. This shrine will pale in comparison to the journeys we will go on.
…Well, he has always wanted to travel.
"Look, I'm not saying no," Wei Ying mutters, chewing at his lip. He does not miss the subtle twitch of the dragon's ears. "Really, I'm flattered. It's not every day you get chosen by a dragon. But why me? I'm just some guy who crashed into your house and broke your favorite instrument."
I collect beautiful things, the dragon replies, and you are beautiful. It is as simple as that.
He snorts. Without thinking, he reaches up to stroke the backs of his fingers across the dragon's snout. There's a second or two where he thinks he might get his arm snapped off, but the creature bears it without complaint.
"That's it? My life's about to change forever just because I'm pretty?"
…I also find you somewhat amusing, if that helps.
Wei Ying isn't too pleased to realize that that does help, just a little bit.
"And what about when I'm not beautiful any more? You keep calling me mortal. What about when I'm old and gray? When I die?"
Such trivial matters. It seems like the dragon is trying its best to look haughty, but the effect is somewhat spoiled as it leans into Wei Ying's touch, chasing the soft pass of his hand over its nose. Come home with me to the lands of my birth. There, I shall share with you the secret of eternal life, and such human matters shall trouble you no longer.
This is a mistake. This is a dream. This is a bizarre, unreal situation that Wei Ying should run from as fast as he can and never look back.
This is the precipice of the great unknown that calls to Wei Ying from the deepest depths of his soul, begging him to explore it, and he knows he would be a fool not to close his eyes and take a leap of faith.
"Okay," he finally says with more confidence than he feels. "Okay. Fine. But you have to let me sort some stuff out before all of that, okay? I have to go home, check in, let people know I'm okay." With a start, Wei Ying pats down his pockets frantically, letting out a moan of despair as he sees the small camera he had worked for months to buy shattered on the ground a little way away. "Fuck, I was streaming when I fell. How the hell am I going to explain this?"
The dragon blinks. There is no stream in this forest. There is no river for miles. Perhaps you did indeed hit your head.
"No, a stream is—" He stops, suddenly aware that he had been about to attempt to explain the concept of a livestream to a being more ancient than he can possibly imagine. Despite the uncertainty, despite how drastically his life is about to change, the thought makes Wei Ying grin. "Don't worry about it. I'll tell you all about it some other time. For now, though, I have to go home, okay? I'll come back as soon as I can."
No need. With a huge, cat-like stretch, the dragon shifts underneath him, patiently waiting for Wei Ying to clamber off its great tail before it stands. I have not left this shrine in many years, and I grow restless. I shall accompany you to your home.
Wei Ying can't quite subdue an amused snort. "I appreciate the thought, but maybe it's better if you stay here. You take one step out of the forest looking like that and they're going to shut the whole city down. We're not really used to dragons around these parts, you know?"
He's leveled with a withering look for his concern. It's all the warning Wei Ying gets before the ground beneath him starts to tremble — he doesn't even have time to shout in alarm as a flash of white light envelops them both. He throws an arm over his face to protect his eyes, but when he braves a peek out into the shrine, both the blinding light and the dragon are gone, a lone figure standing where the enormous beast had lain just moments before.
"You must think me a fool," the most handsome man Wei Ying has ever seen scoffs, rolling his golden eyes. "You mortals. So fascinating, and yet so small-minded."
Wei Ying blinks once, twice.
The man in front of him looks like he has been carved from polished jade. His hair is ink-black, hanging like a waterfall down the back of his heavy white robes like he's just stepped off the set of some top-budget historical drama. Though he holds his head high and aloof, the expression on his face is nothing short of smug. He arches one elegant brow, and Wei Ying quickly finds himself much more amenable to his current situation.
Okay, so Wei Ying likes beautiful things too. Sue him. It's just one thing he and his new dragon friend have in common.
"Um, yeah," he croaks, feeling for all the world like an awkward teenager in front of a brand-new crush. "Yeah, that's better. We should probably get you some different clothes, but you'll blend in more like this, for sure."
The man — dragon? — nods curtly, turning to leave, and of all the questions racing through Wei Ying's mind (How long has he been out here? How are they going to get home? How is he going to sneak a handsome stranger into the house without anyone finding out?), one sticks out to him more than most.
"Wait."
He inches forward; slowly, at first, but in a few steps he draws level with the other man. Up close like this, he's even more radiant than before. Wei Ying chalks that up to ancient spooky dragon magic and does his best not to think too hard about it. "I don't know what to call you," he finally says with a frown. "Do you have a name? I can hardly spend the rest of my life calling you "Mr Dragon", can I? That doesn't seem right."
The man offers him the smallest of smiles, little more than a slight tilt of the corners of his lips. Wei Ying's world tilts on its axis nonetheless.
"I go by many names," he replies quietly in his voice of silk and incense and coming home. "But you may call me Wangji."