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He was extremely used to hiding behind a mask. To not being himself. Honestly, why would he want to be himself at all?
It was a habit that had started a long, long time ago, back when he was still a mortal and had been focused on honing his martial arts skills and deepening his cultivation with the goal of ascending.
Somehow, at some point very early in his life, he had realized that being fully himself was not going to help him realize his dreams. He would have to become someone else. Someone better. Someone adequate to fit in the sect, worthy of praise, pleasant to his seniors and who made their sect proud.
Thus, Yin Yu's first mask had been, of course, the one he wore as the Head Disciple of his sect.
An exemplary young man, who never complained about his work and responsibilities, the embodiment of a good shixiong, of an ideal disciple, someone who worked hard, was kind and wise and worthy of the admiration of his shidis.
And as time went on, the masks he used started multiplying.
The dutiful head disciple was also a loving and understanding shixiong towards the most problematic shidi in the whole sect.
The humble, hardworking and trustworthy young man grew up to be a proud and powerful martial god.
The proud and powerful martial god had to grow a thick skin to survive in the heavens.
And the banished, disgraced martial god was given an actual ceramic mask to hide his face, when he started his new life as the Waning Moon Officer of Ghost City.
He had crafted mask after mask to be able to handle the world around him, to hide all the sides of him that had been frowned upon, misunderstood, or brought punishments upon him… Until he had honestly forgotten how to stop using them, and mostly forgot which parts of himself truly belonged to him and which ones were a fabrication of sorts.
Did anyone care, though? Did he care at all?
…It was probably best for everyone else that he wasn’t himself at any given time.
The Waning Moon Officer was much better, right?
The Waning Moon Officer’s ceramic mask represented all the good things he had in himself and none of his flaws.
What need could there be for him to stop wearing his masks?
Even more important: would he be able to do that? Was anything left under so many layers of lying to himself, to everyone around him?
He was always filtering his words, scrutinizing his thoughts carefully before he shared them; always minding his own actions, always making sure to not occupy too much space, making himself small an unobtrusive.
Who could ever want to see his real self?
Surely no one would.
He had been stupid enough to get surprised when Quan Yizhen showed how much he wanted to do exactly that, asking him to stop wearing his ceramic mask when he was around, and then simply taking it with a hand and gently moving it aside, while looking at him with the same guileless and warm expression he knew so well. Let me look at your face, shixiong, if you don't, it's hard for me to understand you, I'm sorry.
And he had been shocked to see that His Highness Xie Lian wanted to know him better, to be his friend, and insisted on trying to get him to relax and stop trying to be useful to him all the time, because you are not a servant and if you keep referring to yourself that way I'm going to call San Lang AND make him force you to take a vacation, A-Yu, please.
He had also been absolutely baffled by the casual way Hua Chengzhu had told him that all those things were still a choice. A decision to be kind, be strong, do good. A choice you kept making time and time again. So under all that, that Yin Yu who wanted to be all those things still exists. And he's deserving of being seen too. Stop caring so much about hypothetical people who mean nothing to you, Yin Yu. Listen to the ones who care.
They don't understand, thought Yin Yu. They'll get bored or ashamed of me, as soon as they realize.
Yet he found himself in a conversation with Xie Lian, explaining in excruciating detail about the system that he and Chengzhu had in place for organizing and maintaining the library of Paradise Manor. Xie Lian smiled at him so much and asked so many questions, that he didn't realize how much he had talked and talked and talked, until someone else arrived to let them know that Hua Chengzhu was waiting for them in the dining hall. He felt mortified, but before he could apologize, Xie Lian said, let's go, A-Yu, we can keep talking over dinner, I have some more questions to ask! so he had no chance to regret it.
And he found himself in the company of Quan Yizhen while he got through his paperwork and Quan Yizhen worked on a report. He was distractedly playing with his pair of dice in one hand while writing with the other, humming an old song from their days in the sect, only realizing he had done it when Quan Yizhen quietly hummed the next section that he had forgotten about. It shocked him so much that he looked at Quan Yizhen with a panicked expression, but Quan Yizhen was smiling so wide that he couldn’t help but relax.
“Shixiong still remembers the songs we used to sing while training!” Quan Yizhen had said, delighted. “I miss the days when we studied together like this. Shixiong used to move a lot while he worked, just like I do!”
It made Yin Yu feel embarrassed, stupid, wanting to hide again.
“I’m sorry for–” Yin Yu started, but Quan Yizhen didn’t let him finish.
“Shixiong shouldn’t say sorry for being himself,” Quan Yizhen said, already knowing what Yin Yu intended to say. His smile was gone, replaced by a slightly pained expression. “Or for relaxing a bit. It makes me happy to see shixiong like this! Shixiong has always allowed me to be myself and I want to do the same for shixiong.”
Ah, there it was, that same blunt, simple sincerity he always offered, and that never failed to make Yin Yu’s heart skip a beat.
“It isn’t… annoying?” Yin Yu cautiously asked.
“Why would it be?” Quan Yizhen was so confused. Why did shixiong refuse to extend to himself the same kindness he offered to others all the time?! “Oh, is it annoying to shixiong when I do it?”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant!” Yin Yu immediately backtracked, grimacing at the way his words came across. “I just…” I have a hard time whenever I forget to hide. “Shizun used to scold me for that,” Yin Yu said.
“I never saw shixiong getting scolded,” Quan Yizhen pondered. “Was it before I joined the sect?”
“Ah, yes, that was way before. When I was still a kid.”
“Oh.” Quan Yizhen was shocked by that information. “But no one will scold shixiong now! So shixiong doesn’t have to worry about it. Shixiong never scolded me either, at least not about that.”
“Pffft, well, I scolded you about plenty of other stuff, I guess.” Those were fond memories, even if bittersweet.
“But never about being myself,” Quan Yizhen added, smiling again.
“…You truly don’t mind?” Yin Yu heard himself ask.
“I love it when shixiong is himself. I want to see all the small things shixiong has not shared before. I want to understand shixiong,” Quan Yizhen replied, instantly, fully convinced.
It was not the first time he said something like that, and it would probably not be the last time either.
“I… I think I can try.”
Quan Yizhen smiled brightly and started happily rocking on his seat, a silly reaction that always had endeared Yin Yu, because Quan Yizhen smiled with his whole body, so sincerely and wholeheartedly that it made his heart melt.
And before Yin Yu could stop himself, he smiled too, and rocked softly, a little off–beat, but he could feel how that happiness seeped into his whole self, warming him up, making him feel alive again.
For the first time in so long, it was good to be himself.