Work Text:
He Xuan did not mean to keep following the fallen God, Shi Qingxuan.
At least that was what he told himself every time he ended up in the same street again, standing somewhere across the road, pretending to look at something else while his eyes kept going back to the same person.
Shi Qingxuan walked slower than before. That was the first thing He Xuan noticed after the battle was over and everything settled into that strange, quiet aftermath. One leg dragged slightly when he was tired, and he leaned more on his good hand when he had to sit down or stand up. Sometimes he hid it well, sometimes he did not bother.
But Black Water Sinking Boat always noticed.
He noticed when Shi Qingxuan skipped meals because he did not have enough money. He noticed when he slept in temples, in abandoned houses, sometimes just under a roof edge when it rained. He noticed which streets he liked more, which tea stall owner sometimes gave him hot water for free, which old lady let him sit in front of her shop when the sun was too hot.
He never showed himself, too ashamed.
Not after the last time they spoke properly. Not after that look Shi Qingxuan gave him, like he understood everything now and did not want anything to do with it anymore. He Xuan could fight gods and ghosts and armies, but he did not know how to deal with that kind of look.
So he watched from a distance, like a coward.
It became a habit before he realized it. If Shi Qingxuan moved to another part of the city, He Xuan would end up there too a few days later. If Shi Qingxuan stayed in one place for long, He Xuan would find somewhere high or dark nearby where he could see without being seen.
He told himself it was just to make sure Shi Qingxuan did not die.
That was a reasonable excuse, he thought. Shi Qingxuan was mortal now. Weak, unlucky, and still somehow too kind to tell people to go away. It would be easy for someone to rob him, cheat him, hurt him. He Xuan was just making sure none of that happened.
That was all.
Then one day, he saw the other man.
At first, He Xuan did not think much about him. Just another mortal. Average face, average height, nothing special. The type of person you would forget immediately after passing them on the street. He was carrying some paper bags and stopped near the steps where Shi Qingxuan was sitting.
Shi Qingxuan looked up, a bit surprised.
The man said something and handed him one of the bags. Food, probably. Shi Qingxuan hesitated for a moment, then accepted it and said thank you. He Xuan could not hear clearly from where he was standing, but he knew Shi Qingxuan’s expressions too well. He could tell when he was being polite, when he was joking, when he was actually grateful.
This time, he looked actually grateful.
He Xuan felt something twist in his chest, but he ignored it.
It was just food. Mortals helped each other all the time. It meant nothing.
But the next day, the man came again.
And the next day.
And the next.
He Xuan started seeing him everywhere around Shi Qingxuan. Sometimes they sat together at the tea stall. Sometimes they walked slowly down the street, the man matching his pace without making it obvious. Once, He Xuan saw him crouch down to fix the cloth around Shi Qingxuan’s bad leg because it was slipping loose.
He Xuan almost walked over and broke his hand, but he did not.
He stayed in the shadow of a building and watched as Shi Qingxuan laughed about something. It was loud, bright, the same laugh from the heavenly days that used to follow him everywhere. For a moment, it almost felt like nothing had changed, except that this time He Xuan was not standing next to him
He Xuan realized then that he had not heard that kind of laugh from him in a very long time.
It took He Xuan some time to understand what was happening.
At first he thought Shi Qingxuan was just helping the other man for a few days, but then he kept seeing them together every morning, setting up the small food stall in front of the house, preparing ingredients, cooking, serving customers.
Shi Qingxuan moved slowly, but he still helped with whatever he could, and the man never looked impatient, just quietly working beside him like this was already their routine.
Only then did He Xuan realize that Shi Qingxuan was staying there, in that small humble house behind the man’s food stall, helping him run the stall like they were trying to build some kind of new life together. He Xuan stood across the street and watched them for a long time, and for some reason that realization hurt more than anything else so far.
That night, He Xuan went back to Black Water island and smashed a chair against the wall for no real reason.
The island was quiet like always. The sea was dark, the bone fish moving slowly under the water, the manor empty except for him. He walked through the halls and tried not to think about a normal mortal house somewhere in the capital where Shi Qingxuan might be sitting and eating warm food with someone else.
He told himself he did not care.
He told himself Shi Qingxuan deserved a normal life. A quiet life. Someone kind. Someone who did not kill his brother. Someone who did not ruin everything he touched.
It still did not stop the ugly feeling sitting in his chest.
A few days later, He Xuan followed them again.
It was when the man just finished packing up the stall, he walked around to the back and pushed open a wooden gate that led into a small house behind it. Shi Qingxuan followed him inside without hesitation, like this was already part of his daily routine. He Xuan stood outside the wall for a long time, just listening. He could hear faint voices from inside, then the sound of bowls being placed on a table.
He should leave, he thought, but in the end, He did not leave.
He climbed the wall later when it was dark and sat in the tree inside the courtyard, hidden by the leaves. From there he could see into the house through the window.
Shi Qingxuan was sitting on a chair while the man was changing the bandage around his hand. Shi Qingxuan was talking, probably complaining or making some joke because the man smiled a little and shook his head.
They looked comfortable together, and he felt a dull ache in a body that was not supposed to feel anything anymore.
It wasn’t anything romantic or dramatic, they just looked comfortable together, like this had slowly become normal for them.
He Xuan remembered a long time ago, in Heaven, when Shi Qingxuan used to drag Ming Yi around everywhere. Banquets, missions, random visits to other officials. Shi Qingxuan would talk and talk and Ming Yi would mostly ignore him, but somehow they always ended up sitting next to each other anyway. Shi Qingxuan used to lean too close, steal food from his plate, complain about everything and then laugh like nothing in the world could touch him.
Back then, He Xuan thought it was annoying.
Now he would give almost anything to hear that voice again, talking nonsense next to him. He didn’t care if Shi Qingxuan called him Ming Yi or He Xuan, he just desperately wanted to hear the former Wind Master call his name, even if it was the wrong one.
Inside the house, Shi Qingxuan suddenly looked toward the window. He Xuan did not move. For a moment he thought maybe Shi Qingxuan sensed something, but then Shi Qingxuan just looked away again and kept talking.
Of course he did not notice. Why would he.
To Shi Qingxuan, Ming Yi was dead. He Xuan was just the monster who destroyed his life. There was no reason to think that monster would sit in a tree outside his house like some pathetic ghost.
He Xuan stayed until the lamp inside went out.
He watched until Shi Qingxuan fell asleep on a narrow bed. The man was still awake, sitting at the table reading something. After a while he stood up, adjusted the blanket around Shi Qingxuan’s shoulders, and blew out the candle.
He Xuan felt that ugly feeling again, stronger this time.
Jealousy was a stupid word for it. It was more complicated than that. He did not have the right to be jealous. He knew that. He had no right to want anything from Shi Qingxuan anymore. If Shi Qingxuan found someone kind and normal and safe, that was good. That was what should happen.
So why did it feel like something was slowly crushing his chest every time he saw them together.
He Xuan leaned his head back against the tree and looked up at the night sky through the leaves. He tried to remember when exactly everything went wrong. There were too many moments to choose from. The first lie. The first time he approached Shi Qingxuan as Ming Yi. The years he spent pretending. The day he revealed everything. The day Shi Wudu died. The look on Shi Qingxuan’s face after.
Too many moments.
If he could go back, would he do anything differently?
He did not know.
He still wanted revenge. Even now, if he thought about his family, about the way they died because of something they did not even understand, the hatred was still there. But somehow, somewhere along the way, Shi Qingxuan had become something separate from that revenge.
And now that separate thing was sitting in someone else’s house, sleeping under someone else’s roof, slowly building a life that had no place for He Xuan in it.
He Xuan let out a small laugh, very quiet so no one would hear.
He had waited for revenge for years. He had turned himself into something not quite human anymore just to reach that goal. He thought that after everything was done, after Shi Wudu was dead, after the truth came out, he would finally feel satisfied.
Instead he was sitting in a tree at night, watching the man he loved move on with someone else.
After a long time, He Xuan climbed down from the tree and walked to the gate. He stood there for a while, looking at the closed door of the house.
“If this is better for you,” he said quietly, even though Shi Qingxuan could not hear him, “then I won’t interfere even it kills me.”
He did not know if that was a promise or a lie (again).
He Xuan turned and walked back into the dark streets. He knew he would still come back. He would still watch from far away. He would still make sure no ghosts came too close, no thieves followed him at night, no one tried to cheat him in the market.
Shi Qingxuan would probably never know.
Maybe that was for the best.
Somewhere behind him, inside that small house, Shi Qingxuan was sleeping peacefully for once. Not in a ruined temple, not in the cold, not alone. And even if He Xuan was not the reason for that peace, at least he could make sure nothing destroyed it.
He Xuan had taken everything from him once.
The least he could do now was stand in the dark and make sure no one else did.
Or maybe he was just being a coward again, hiding in the shadows and pretending this was enough. Sometimes he wondered if he should just appear in front of Shi Qingxuan again, tell him everything, explain everything, even if it changed nothing. But he did not know if that would make things better, or if it would only hurt him again. He did not know if that would be selfish, or if staying away like this was actually the more selfish choice.