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It's late morning when he wakes, which is unusual on its own. If the sun doesn't catch his attention first thing, then a certain horrible creature inevitably does, pawing at him until he reluctantly climbs out of his comfortable little patch of clothing and blankets to greet the day.
But when takes in his surroundings, the situation goes from mildly puzzling to somewhat alarming. Unless someone undertook drastic measures overnight, this space isn't his grotto. He sits up, blinking in confusion at the bed he's in and the quilts tucked warmly around him. Beyond lies a broad veranda and a garden that, although lovely, is entirely unfamiliar. This is not where he laid to rest just last night, of that he is sure.
When he reaches out with his senses, there's familiar qi close by, entangled comfortably with an odd mix of mortal and immortal energies. The strangers are friends, then. Or at least, they are not enemies. He would not be left alone in the mortal world if there were any danger in this place.
Based on his observations — the calm, the safety, the lack of agitated qi from any of the surrounding living creatures — this is just another one of Zhu Yan's foolish mortal adventures, and he's been swept up into it as some kind of joke. It's irritating, but also typical behavior. It doesn't warrant anything other than vaguely irritated patience on his part, especially since Zhu Yan has remembered his preference for quiet places.
Fine, then. He'll indulge just this once and play nice with whatever mortal "friends" he encounters this time a round. He rises from the bed, still a little drowsy, and throws the nearest cloak over his shoulders. Half-dressed and barefoot, he pads toward the doors across the stupidly large room he's found himself in, throwing them open—
"Li Lun," says an unfamiliar face in a startled voice. The face has brilliant blue eyes, and a pretty turned-down pout of a mouth, but he doesn't get a chance to look more closely or ask why it knows his name.
Zhu Yan sweeps in and takes his face in both hands. The white fur trim on his sleeves tickles. Li Lun bats him away with only mild annoyance. There are worse greetings than Zhu Yan's touch.
"You're awake," Zhu Yan says stupidly.
Li Lun reaches out with his spirit and twines it together with Zhu Yan's. "You might have told me you wanted another mortal adventure instead of kidnapping me in my sleep," he grumbles.
The pretty face makes a strange little noise. Zhu Yan's hands land on his cheeks again, warm. And cold. He's shaking his head, disquiet lighting up his qi.
"I didn't kidnap you," he says. "We've been waiting for you to wake up."
Li Lun blinks twice. That's an odd and concerning thing to say. "We?"
This time, the sound that comes from the pretty face's mouth is a wet sort of pain. Li Lun shifts his weight so he can look over Zhu Yan's shoulder, but he can't see its face properly anymore. It's turned to one side, as if trying (poorly) to hide. Even Zhu Yan looks off balance, his whole face scrunched in a way Li Lun hasn't seen since the first blood moon.
"Li Lun," Zhu Yan says in his worst, gentlest voice. "Something has gone terribly wrong."