Chapter Text
jing yuan had looked at him so coldly. now is not the time, because these people—these criminals—were more important. old friends that the general never spoke of. while jing yuan was yanqing’s most important person, he was far from jing yuan’s.
but he had always known this. it was obvious; with the whole of the xianzhou luofu to watch over, what did one boy not even of age matter?
there are voices talking. he should be listening, this is important, he is jing yuan’s retainer—
the general has left with his company. yanqing is alone with only the waves crashing against the shore. (they left without saying anything jing yuan left without saying anything…)
everything hurts. his leg buckles underneath him—he falls, in what he will pretend is a graceful manner befitting of a cloud knight, into the sand. face first. ew ew ew there is sand in his mouth.
yanqing pushes himself up with a wince. there are small cuts everywhere on his body—his favorite hanfu likely ruined for good, damnit—but he only has a couple deep wounds. there is the one on his leg, and then another through his side.
the hanfu is officially sentenced to its fate when he uses the edge of his sword (poor sword, it will need so much polishing later) to cut away at the fabric. he wraps jagged strips of it around the wounds as makeshift bandages, and summons ice into the air around him to dull the pain.
this is all normal enough. most injuries he obtains are not serious enough to bother the healers for. besides, if he does go to the healers, then jing yuan will be notified, which is trouble he would rather not make. what is decidedly not normal, however, is the coughing. the force of the fit makes him almost double over, and when he opens his eyes again, there are slightly bloody flower petals in the sand.
…well. that isn’t good. yanqing blinks dazedly as a drop drip-drip-drips into the sand, staining it a deep red.
but he doesn’t have time for any of that right now—he has patrols to get to soon. a cloud knight must never let slip their weapon, or let slacken their form. even if said cloud knight needs to brace themself on their swords just to stand up.
~~~
then jing yuan almost dies fighting phantylia, and yanqing loses his shit. fu xuan takes on most of the general’s workload (jing yuan is still the general he will be the general for a long time this will all pass—) but yanqing takes on more responsibility as well.
he is jing yuan’s retainer, after all. no matter how many times he has failed.
aeons, yanqing misses being a child. watching vendors set their stalls as aurum alley wakes up, spending afternoons running around the seat of divine foresight, eating out with the general. it was a simple life—as all children’s lives should be. but then he grew up, and started understanding the whispers.
a weapon, an heir, a grab for power. jing yuan does not do things without a purpose.
he knows now that his job is to deal with problems before they reach the seat of divine foresight—not to be the cause of said problems.
so maybe yanqing’s suspicious flowery cough goes untreated for a few more months than it should have. all the ship’s medics have been focused on treating cloud knights and their arbiter-general in the aftermath of the stellaron crisis.
(he tells himself he will do his own research, but there are so many papers to read and sign during the day and then there’s training and visiting the general and okay maybe he’s too busy to actually care about coughing a few times a day. but that’s fine.)
~~~
yanqing is absolutely not fine, he realizes as he doubles over from the force of his coughing fit. okay. okay. that is an entire flower. if this was an actual fight he would be dead, his guard is so down. fortunately, no one else is around; he is almost always first on the training grounds, and today is no exception.
the flower in his hand is beautiful, thin petals reaching for the sky despite being dampened by blood. eerie, but beautiful. is he going to die?
yanqing sits himself down, legs folded properly under himself, next to the sword he dropped. (ice still crackles ominously in the air. he’s not going to die, that’s ridiculous.) there are some things he can conclude, and steps that he can take. he is a soldier, he has had much worse.
- though he doesn’t understand what this is, it is likely not contagious. if it were, then there would have been mass hysteria a long time ago.
- that means he can go see a doctor without risk to the public. things have calmed down since phantylia, it should be okay for him to have a consultation at least.
- this stupid [???] is actively impeding his ability to perform his duties. thus, a consultation will likely not be enough to fix it.
- jing yuan will be notified if (when) he needs treatment. going to bailu means that the general will know almost immediately, but he can delay that if he goes to someone else. hopefully by then, jing yuan will be more recovered.
- …
- this is a terrible list. yanqing hates making plans.
whatever. a plan is a plan, and he is good at following orders. first step: getting out of this training yard.
~~~
the house is quiet. objectively, this has been normal for many years, with the general being rightfully occupied at the seat of divine foresight. but it still sucks, especially when he knows jing yuan is still hospitalized instead of just being at work.
everything will go back to normal soon. it has to. he shakes off the thoughts and starts walking.
in his room, yanqing lets his hair down and changes into his least favorite civilian clothes. he’s fairly certain they haven’t left his closet in years… perfect. the accessories usually pinned to his outfit are left on the nightstand. it’s best not to be recognizable for this. unfortunately, reconnaissance hasn’t been covered his training yet, so when he looks in the mirror, he still very much looks like yanqing if anyone looks closely. well, there’s nothing he can do about that.
getting the appointment itself goes well; the receptionist accepts his ‘training injury’ excuse, no one recognizes him while he’s waiting, and the doctor calls him in with an alias. (he’d came up with ‘lengfeng’ shortly after he manifested an ice blade for the first time, and little him thought it was the coolest thing ever. older him can admit it’s rather obvious, but hey, no one’s called him out on it yet.)
unfortunately, the doctor is significantly more concerned about this health-issue-thing than yanqing himself had been. some sort of early-onset mara, maybe caused by the stellaron crisis, they fret as yanqing swings his legs from the examination table—though he’s fairly certain he hasn’t experienced any memory loss or other symptoms. nevertheless, he coughs up a sample for them to put in a tube and they make him promise to come back in two days after they’ve investigated.
more unfortunately, he’s told to stay at home whenever possible to ‘minimize risk,’ so yanqing takes his first sick days in forever and resigns himself to feeling miserable in bed.
~~~
there was a time, once, where these two days would have been passed with jing yuan fretting(?) over him. (fretting is such a strange word to use for someone as strong as an arbiter-general, but to be fair, arbiter-generals do not usually spend time taking care of sickly children. such a task is far beneath them.)
of course, now yanqing is old enough to not need all that, so he gets his own food delivered from tall auntie’s stall and empties the trash can when it fills with flowers and blood. he feels a little bit faint whenever he stands for too long, but that’s okay. the doctor will figure this out, he can go back to training and be useful again soon. it is only a matter of time.
yanqing is capable, strong, the general’s sharpest sword. and yet, when he stumbles in the dark to his bed after turning off the lights, he can’t help but imagine jing yuan pulling the covers up around him.
goodnight, yanqing.
(a tear runs quietly down his cheek. by morning, it will have long evaporated.)