Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He Xuan knows he is dreaming because, when he opens his eyes, he is met with the impossible.

It’s the day of the Yuanxiao Festival, shown by the bright decorations and the heavenly smell of food wafting through the air. Before him is a large table, made to seat six or seven, filled with food stacked so high it could have been that of a rich man’s. 

His family had always splurged come the time of festives. Never one to pass by a chance of celebration. He Xuan takes a shaky step forward and allows himself to look— this one seems to be a memory. He can’t quite remember how old he was, but he knows he was younger than he is now, and a whole lot more naïve too. When things went wrong, he could pretend to believe they got better. Now, he hardly believes what he has is actually forever.

Well, not quite. But it’ll last some time, at least. Unlike this story that unfolds before him, as his mother comes through from the kitchen to scold him for already getting too close to the food.

“You’ll wait for us all, now, A-Xuan.” She reminds him, and she must not see the startled look he gives her. He feels tears well up in his throat from just hearing her voice. Even that is enough to bring the memories flooding back.

He wants to run up and grab her. Hug her tight and never let go. Curl up in her lap and let her pet his hair like she used to, even when he got too big and old for it. But he finds himself stuck in place, unable to move his feet away from the table. Something inside him aches, and he isn’t quite sure that it’s because of the vast, never-ending hunger in the empty pit that is his stomach. Instead, it’s higher; the pangs settle somewhere beneath his ribcage, like insects crawling under his skin.

This seems to trigger his memory to continue. People appear all of a sudden, all swarming to find a seat. He feels a gentle hand on his elbow and turns before he can stop himself. There she stands, hasn’t aged a year since he saw her be forcibly dragged away. She’s smiling. He hasn’t seen her smile in so long, had almost forgotten it; how her teeth were slightly crooked, and how one of her front ones had a chip out of it from where she had gotten into a minor carriage accident in her teens. The way her smile contorts her face, creasing into little dimples. That almost overshadows her freckles, and the way her dark brown hair seems to bring out the little brown marks against her already tan skin.

She sees his expression, somehow, even through the haziness of dreams, and brings a hand up to his cheek. Without hesitating, she brushes away a stray tear there, before leaning forward to kiss beneath the other eye too. She was not one to leave a stone untouched.

“Come on, Xuan’er.” She smiles. It’s soft enough, though laced with humour. He had always been emotional when he was younger, so perhaps here she thinks it’s more of the same.

How can he tell her it isn't. How can he say, i watched you fall and i know it was all because of our intertwined fates. How can he say, get away from me, get away, i’ll kill you, you are not obligated to be by my side, you should have lived rather than me-

“Let’s eat.”

She drags him to the table. Sitting between her and his sister, he finds himself unable to speak.

But she notices, letting out her bark of a laugh. She spoons some food into his gaping maw, and laughs harder still when he tries not to splutter.

He can feel the taste of it on his tongue. Just enough spice, just enough sweet. Just how he likes it.

“Come now, we can’t waste all the food A-Niang cooked for us, didi.” His sister says from beside him. She starts filling up his own bowl, noticing that he hadn’t made any move to himself.

He Xuan resolves himself to live out this one last meal with them. He will have this once, and he will awaken and dry his tears before the sun rises. 

But good things aren’t made to last. It sweeps in quickly, immobilising him in freezing cold waters before he realises what has even happened. From the open windows, the ceiling, from the battered down door, water pours in, so dark it's impossible to see through it. 

He can’t move even when it rises past his knees. Around him, everything is chaos; people struggle to push the door back up, and he sees his parents begin the impossible task of closing the window.

She stays with him, and holds him tight. From the rabbit beat of her pulse, it’s clear she’s terrified, but she doesn’t say it.

“You always remain calm in times like these.” She says. It’s more of a gasp, with how breathless it is. He cannot move his gaze away from the table, where the food begins to float, but he can feel her eyelashes fluttering from where she’s pressed into his neck. “You don’t even utter a prayer. You let it happen.”

“Does that make it my fault?” He asks. “Should I have fought harder, to save you all?”

“Xuan’er, Xuan’er, you know there was nothing you could do.” She promises. “Your calm was the only thing that kept us all stable for so long. Now, we are lost to a storm that’s not of your creation.”

“Don’t go again.” He pleads. He’s still frozen, feeling the water up to his neck. It seeps through his clothes, through to his very bones. It grips him, tight and chilling, the feeling of cruel hands wrapping around his soul and tearing it out without a care. “I can’t take it again.”

“You have someone else now.” She says, and then she throws herself back into the endlessly black water around them.

For a moment then, it is silent, except from the racing of his thoughts.

He Xuan wants to cry, he was never your replacement.

He Xuan wants to scream at the injustice of it all.

Instead, the water ripples once, twice, before it parts again. The waters are somewhere familiar, with the bottom of the lake twisting to form his Black Water Lake. The dry ground doesn’t make a single sound beneath his feet; it’s as if he’s not there at all, and yet he still sees.

Sees Shi Qingxuan stood between the water’s twin sides. They’re looking up, as the waves twist above them. It’s a fight, He Xuan realises, and it’s one that he wins.

Except he doesn’t feel any satisfaction. The first time it had come with the feeling of a plan finally complete, even if it felt wrong . There was a sick sense of glee in seeing it through to the end.

This time, he just feels empty.

His gaze turns away from the waves, to the figure that looks towards him now.

They are faceless. Their robes are dirty and torn, no longer a pure white. There is a whisk in the sand beside them; their fan is nowhere to be seen.

Of course, He Xuan knows who they are. It is the same person as before, disguised by his own mind. He cannot bear to look at the result of his failures. He is a man who will see his plans through to the end, no matter the cost, but it doesn’t mean he has to appreciate the result.

“Look at me.” It says. It’s utterly toneless. Lifeless. “Look at me now.”

He Xuan looks.

It flicks through hundreds of forms in a moment, all familiar. There are ones he has walked with, talked with, sat and drank with. There are forms he has danced with, in a moment of weakness, and forms he had argued with, when he couldn’t bring himself to hide his care.

There are forms of helplessness. A night spent drinking that went wrong. A hunt that turned sour, slashing across their pretty little cheek. 

The last night they spent together, with them kneeling before their brother’s dead head.

And all of a sudden, it stops. Finally, it lets him close his eyes and let out a shuddering sob as he feels his knees hit the sand.

“Won’t you miss me?” They ask, before the black water claims him too.

*

When He Xuan falls awake, it is to the feeling of water soaking through his clothes, with a startled Shi Qingxuan blinking awake beside him. He pushes himself up on his arms, takes a few shuddering breaths, before letting himself collapse back into the soaking sheets. He tries to glance around the room to reaffirm where he is, but he finds it impossible to focus on anything but the warm mass beside him, the soothing words going right through his skull.

He closes his eyes and lets it wash over him, before he startles to full awareness and shoots back up again. Shi Qingxuan, startled a second time, grasps at his shoulders, as if they want to shake him.

“Xuan-er?” They ask, and He Xuan represses a shudder. Her voice echoes in his head, even now. His heart pangs with something unnamable; perhaps once it would have been grief, but now it is closer to acceptance. “What happened?”

“Bad dream.” He says, his voice gruff. He swallows around nothing, looking down to where his hands clench in the sheets. Loosening them in surprise, he only just realised that they’re sodden. “Water?”

“You must have pulled it from the lake.” They explain, blinking down at the sheets. And then they laugh, a delicate thing. “I think you wet the bed.”

Despite himself, He Xuan manages a half-smile. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” They ask. He Xuan shakes his head immediately; he doesn’t think he could put it into words if he tried. They hum, and gently lay him back down again, tossing the soaked blankets to the floor. “Come on, let’s try to sleep again.”

Even as they lie there, neither close their eyes. Maybe they feel exposed by their sheets discarded on the floor. Or maybe they are soothed by the gentle sound of birds crooning from out in the forests, quiet enough not to be disruptive, but loud enough to echo with the slight eeriness that is typical of the transition from late night to early morning. There is something dependable in the repetition.

He Xuan tenses for a moment, before forcibly loosening himself again. Then, in an act of boldness, he pulls Shi Qingxuan closer, his hands curling into gentle fists in their clothes. As if on auto-pilot, Shi Qingxuan brings their palm up against his chest, a reassuring weight. Their legs weave themselves together.

Moving his arm, he runs his fingers through their hair, gently easing out a few of the knots, until he rests upon their neck. He makes no further attempt to brush it out, knowing it’s far too tangled from sleep and that it’d only hurt the both of them in the struggle. But he keeps it there still, a comforting warmth against his tingling fingers. It allows him to feel the vibrations from Shi Qingxuan’s throat as they start humming again, this time a longer, unfamiliar song. It’s lighthearted, not too fast but clearly one with words. They are lost in the minute space between them; only the melody matters anymore.

The song continues, looping and looping. It climbs up and down but always returns to its starting point. There is something relaxing in the repetition. 

It continues well into the morning, when they finally open their eyes for good. Shi Qingxuan blinks up at him, and he feels the last of his unease melt away.

Breakfast is overall a subdued affair, though the smile count is no lesser than normal. In fact, it is closer to lunch when they actually make it out of bed. Today it is Shi Qingxuan who moves around the kitchen, though their cooking isn’t all too pleasant, so they settle on a collection of fruit. They place it down on the table, and then look over it like a proud magpie. At this, He Xuan huffs a laugh and ignores when Shi Qingxuan tilts their head at him, confused.

He shakes his head. Shi Qingxuan does a dramatic slump, which earns him another laugh, and goes forward for the fruit, digging their thumbs into the fresh orange peel. They make a mess, of course; their peel jobs always end up in little pieces, rather than a tight-knit curl like He Xuan’s. 

“You’re getting it everywhere.” He says, the first time he’s spoken in hours. “Let me?”

Shi Qingxuan hands it over, watching as he strips it back with years worth of practice. “Jiejie used to like oranges.” He explains. “And every Sunday morning, we would go orange picking together. There was an orchard nearby. We’d always sneak in.”

“Were you ever caught?” Shi Qingxuan asks, fascinated. Subconsciously, they lean forward, halfway across the table without realising.

He Xuan smiles. “No. But there were some near misses. She taught me how to peel oranges.”

Then, they look down at his hands, where he’s splitting it into two halves. “Wow, so quick!” They exclaim. They open their mouth as He Xuan holds an orange slice out to them, accepting with a large smile.

“You really care for me, mm?” They say. He Xuan swallows, already feeling heat rise from beneath his cold skin. He casts his gaze back down to the table, and pretends he can’t see how delighted they look.

“Of course.” He replies. “Eat.”

He thrusts another slice forwards, before putting one in his own mouth. Neither of them talk for a moment as they focus on the sweet sensation, juice spraying across their tongue.

“These are good.” Shi Qingxuan eventually says. “Another?”

The morning continues like that, until they move outside. He Xuan grabs their blankets from the bed and brings them outside to dry in the warm sun. Shi Qingxuan settles in their usual spot beside their favourite flowers, going through and tending them. Usually, He Xuan would spend this time fishing for their lunch, but this time around, they talk him through what they’re doing as he sits on the ground besides them.

At first, he simply watches, not saying much at all. It’s Shi Qingxuan’s chatter that fills the open air, as He Xuan picks at the flowers they discard to make them into something. He twists the stalks until they come together to hold in a circle, before adding more and more to his eventually heavy crown. 

“And that one’s my favourite. I always liked the blue-” They say, as they move over to the next patch. The words wash over He Xuan, soothing like waves lapping at his feet. He feels a small smile appear on his face, and can’t find it in himself to smooth it away. When Shi Qingxuan glances over, they beam even brighter.

“It always reminded me of ge , so I thought I’d grow some.” They say. He Xuan keeps smiling, and they breathe out a breath, slumping a bit as they do. “I wonder whether he’d be proud.”

“He’d better be.” He Xuan murmurs. Though his tone is dark, Shi Qingxuan laughs as they trim another flower. He grabs it before it can fall to the floor. “You’re doing well.”

“Am I?” They wonder. “I’m… Not what I used to be.”

“Do you need to be?” He says. He turns his gaze away, looking at the flowers that surround them. “Look at the life you’ve made. That we built together. Should an old life control your new one?”

“Mm!” They hum. “You make a sound point!”

“Of course I do.” He Xuan replies, shuffling closer. “Look here a moment-” They do, and He Xuan places his crown of severed flowers and drooping leaves upon their head- “There you go. Fits you perfectly.”

For a second, Shi Qingxuan’s mouth just opens and closes, before they grin again, warmth spreading across their cheeks. In the light of late summer, they almost seem to glow.

The plague of his nightmares finally fades away as Shi Qingxuan's happiness floods into him, filling him until it can’t help but spill over.

*

Finally, in that afternoon, they go swimming. Slowly, for the past few months, they have steadily been building up Shi Qingxuan’s stamina. For the first few weeks, they had been able to do little more than tread water, and even that had been a struggle. 

But they’ve gotten better. They’ve built up mobility well, despite them still clinging to He Xuan as they first enter, crying out about the cold. He Xuan doesn’t feel it, so he lets them cling to his side until they feel comfortable enough in themselves to let go.

Currently, they float together, side by side. Shi Qingxuan looks at him through strands of soaking hair, ignoring as water droplets run down their face from where they had splashed him when they entered the lake. He Xuan, not much drier, focuses on keeping the currents gentle; only the surface ripples in the slightest breeze.

“It’s colder today.” They complain. Then, they turn to him with a gleam in their eye. “You’ll let me freeze?”

He Xuan, through restraint instilled in him from his many years by Hua Cheng’s side, manages not to sigh, nor roll his eyes, or express any of his fond exasperation. “Come here.” He replies instead, holding out his arm. Shi Qingxuan cheers and moves closer, before thrusting themselves into his arms.

“Come on, warm me up.” They say. This close, He Xuan can hear their teeth chatter. Can feel the goosebumps across their skin. “I hate this part.”

“You say this every time, and yet it doesn’t dissuade you from swimming.”

“Because it’s fun! And I get to cuddle you, haha.”

“You get to cuddle me anyway.” He Xuan points out, frowning down into their hair. “And I’m dead. I’m as cold as it gets.”

“No, no, Xuan-er is very warm!” Shi Qingxuan protests. “You’re always warm when I touch you anyway.”

He Xuan, despite their close proximity, pretends he hears nothing. No such blasphemy will be said around him. Black Water Sinking Ships? Flustered? Unheard of.

“Would you like to make a wish?” He diverts instead. Shi Qingxuan brings their head of his neck to look at him, confusion clear on their drenched features.

“A wish?”

“On the arowanas.”

“You brought your fish with you when we moved?” Shi Qingxuan asks. They peer into the dark water, despite not being able to see a thing. “How did I miss this? Have we been eating your pets?”

“There isn’t much on them to eat.” He Xuan says. “I can show you, if you want, but I wouldn’t touch them. They’re poisonous.”

“Xuan’er brought his bone fish with him to our house…” Shi Qingxuan says, a little breathless, though it might be from the exertion. They cling on tighter as they say, “Come on, show me! I’m curious now.” 

He nods and calls a few forth. Only seconds go by before one sticks its head above the surface. Shi Qingxuan startles, flinching backwards, before laughing lightly and moving back to where they were before.

“Ooh, they’re bigger than I thought they’d be.” They say, looking at them in fearful reverence. “Can you pet them?”

“Yes.” He Xuan replies. “It’s just bone. You’re not missing much.”

“You can wish on them?”

“They’re lucky.” He says. “So you can wish on them now.”

Shi Qingxuan forgets their earlier hesitance and laughs loudly. “Is that how it works now?”

“Mn.” He Xuan replies sincerely. “It works however I want it to work. So you can make a wish.”

“You’re putting me on the spot!” They claim, though stop to think about it, lifting a hand to their chin. Swimming in place, they turn themselves in a small circle as they look around for inspiration, before their gaze lands on He Xuan again, and they grin.

“I know!” They declare. “I want Xuan’er to give me a kiss.”

He Xuan freezes, waiting for his brain to kick back into action. As his mouth hangs open, Shi Qingxuan laughs again. Finally, he manages to close it, though he can’t quite fight off the blush as he says, “You’ve said it out loud. It won’t come true now.”

“Aren’t you the one who made the rules?” Shi Qingxuan pouts, moving closer to him again. “Come on, can’t you change it? I really, really want to kiss you!”

He Xuan stays still for another few moments, and eventually, they go to move away.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to-”

He brings his hand up to their jaw, silencing them. A thumb runs over their cold lips, an ashen colour now from the cold. Their pupils are blown, with a mix of desire and expectation covering their features. 

Finally, he leans forward and captures their lips in a kiss.

It didn’t last long. Just a simple thing, and yet, when he pulls away, Shi Qingxuan looks the happiest he’s ever seen them. Shi Qingxuan beams at him, before leaving wet kisses all over his cheeks and nose. He can’t even escape their hold, from where they’ve wrapped their arms around his neck.

Honestly, he wouldn’t want to regardless. He will keep them both afloat, even if his face is in flames.

“I’m done, I’m done.” Shi Qingxuan eventually sighs, resting their head on his shoulder again. They absentmindedly watch the bone fish. “Do you wanna go inside? I’m too tired to swim today. I’ll sit on the pier with your fishies.”

“We can go in.” He agrees, holding onto them as he swims over to the grassy bank. Teasing, he asks, “Do you want me to carry you in?”

Shi Qingxuan’s eyes gleam, but he’s unable to see it. “Of course I do.” It seems their plan had worked all along. 

*

They swim the next day, and the next. Sometimes, it’ll end as it had done previously: with them cuddling in their bed as they warm up together, pressing lips against every inch of skin. Other times, it will end with Shi Qingxuan perched on the docks, wanting to feel the cool of the air without the exertion.

Today, it ends in a water fight. Shi Qingxuan had been doing well and set off swimming a few laps. They still splashed as they swam slightly, though much less than before. 

As He Xuan watches them swim, he thinks to himself, I wonder whether he knows just how beautiful he is. He keeps the words locked under his tongue out of fear that voicing them would scare them away, like a fish that darts the moment you get too close.

Still, they turn and look at him from across the lake, beaming as they make to wave. They look around for a second, as if thinking, before moving closer again. A compromise, He Xuan heads over too. 

The moment they’re in arms reach of each other, He Xuan feels the cool chill of water across his face as Shi Qingxuan splashes at him with everything they have. Despite himself, He Xuan splutters, spitting out the water that managed to get into his mouth. Shi Qingxuan looks utterly delighted with themselves.

“Shi Qingxuan.” He Xuan says, warning.

They laugh, loud and echoing into the open air of the evening. “Did I get you? Did I catch you off guard?”

“Don’t pick fights you’re not willing to finish.” He says, before splashing back. Even without using his powers, it’s clear he has the upper hand, so Shi Qingxuan squeaks and desperately swims away. For a few moments, he lets them, putting some space between them both as they desperately rushing to get away.

And then, He Xuan sinks under the water, letting the lake go still. He can feel Shi Qingxuan’s frantic kicking, until they slow and turn when they realise the assault has halted. He waits a second, two, before they continue again, this time swimming for the shore. He grins.

With the slightest of his powers, he propels himself forward and clasps his hand around their ankle, pushing himself above the water just as they begin to shriek. He doesn’t tug them too far down, only enough to submerge until their chin, before he releases his hold, but the effect is enough.

When Shi Qingxuan spots him, they splash him again, giving a playful glare. He Xuan simply smiles.

“Aish, so mean! What would you have done if I drowned?”

“That wouldn’t happen. I wouldn’t let it.” He Xuan promises. Weirdly enough, and despite the cool chill of the lake, Shi Qingxuan manages to blush. Huh. “What kind of water demon would I be, if I let my love drown in our home.”

This time, Shi Qingxuan seems to cough. He Xuan frowns, swimming to their side to better support them; they cling to his shoulders like it’s the only thing keeping them alive. Worried, He Xuan moves them out of the water, swimming over to the convenient pier.

With Shi Qingxuan sitting and coughing up their lungs, and He Xuan floating by their legs, they finally manage to clear their throat.

“You okay now?”

“Yes.” They croak, their eyes still a little glassy. They sneeze then, and He Xuan laughs.

“Let’s get you inside.” He Xuan hums, pushing himself up beside them. He places a warm kiss against their forehead, before shuffling to the side and climbing up entirely. Holding out his hand, together they both walk back to their home and settle down for a comforting night’s rest.

*

He Xuan wakes up to the sound of Shi Qingxuan’s harsh coughing.

He shoots up immediately, opening his eyes to the sight of their blotchy, red face and hunched over form as they seem to struggle to keep everything down. Before he can even think, he’s out of the bed and fetching a bucket; just in time to watch as they hurl up yesterday's meal, and then dry heave when nothing else comes out.

Settling by their side, He Xuan runs a hand through their hair, pushing it back out of their forehead. Some of it is slick, coated with saliva and chunks of chewed up food, but he pays it no mind and pulls it back too. 

It’s an undignified scene as a whole, but it is far from the worst he’s ever seen them. Although their skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, and their throat sounds like that of an eighty-year-old mortal, their eyes still retain coherency, even in this. More importantly, their hand seems to find his, even as they clench it like a wife in childbirth.

When they seem to stabilise for a moment, he sends a pulse of spiritual energy through to them. After a few seconds, it transfers successfully and he continues the flow, watching as they slowly begin to slow their breathing again. Their eyes take on a tired look now, as the pain begins to lessen.

Sometimes, on particularly bad days, He Xuan would transfer spiritual energy to Shi Qingxuan’s legs to help lessen the tension. Although it wasn’t a permanent solution, it helped them get through the worst of it. It’s the same logic now; lessening the pain even though it won't solve it forever.

He Xuan supposes he’ll just have to stay by their side, until nothing can hurt them ever again.

“Are you feeling better?” He asks, though no answer comes. Shi Qingxuan has their eyes closed, scrunched shut as if attempting to block out the light. With a wave of his hand, the curtains fling themselves closed from where they’d been forgotten the previous night. Seeing their unresponsive state, he changes his tone, turning much more gentle in an effort to get through. “A-Xuan, A-Xuan, come on now.” 

He tugs at them gently, positioning them on his shoulder. His cold skin should help, cooling their temperature to something less feverish. At first, he makes simple hushing sounds, but then recalls a melody that used to be sung to him by his mother, and then his sister, as their parents got old.

He remembers singing it for his fianceé once, only once, and the panic from then relights itself now. In her final moments, she had been beautiful but she had been scared, too. It’s that same fear he notices in Shi Qingxuan, when the pain becomes too much.

Gripped with the force of his terror, he struggles to keep the panicked note out of his tone. “I’ve got you. Breathe for me, A-Xuan, I’ve got you.”

He repeats that until they fall asleep, their breathing finally steadying. He lays them down and fetches a bucket of cool, clean water, as well as a towel, and begins cleaning the sweat off of their forehead. He leaves one cold towel on their forehead, whilst grabbing another to try and tidy them up; it’s been so long since he was sick, but he still recalls hating the grimy feeling, and even worse, hating not being able to do anything about it.

The Reverend didn’t curse him with sickness often. He Xuan was known to suffer through anything given to him without a single complaint, even if he internally disliked the feeling. But his family were often ill— never quite fatally, but enough so that they’d have to spend any funds they had acquired on medicine, to be on the safe side— and the Reverend rejoiced in watching him overwork himself to keep them all afloat. 

As Shi Qingxuan sleeps, a frown still present on their brow, He Xuan sits and thinks of the future. It would look so desolate without them, so bleak… Something not worth living.

Even without the Reverend, the trail of death follows so closely behind him, and this is one thing he refuses to lose. Perhaps, it may kill him but he would let it, if it meant finding a way that they could live a single more day. 

When Black Water sets his mind to a task, he will accomplish it, no matter the consequences. If Black Water wants you dead, you had better say your goodbyes.

And if He Xuan wants you to live, what other choice do you have?

*

The moment Shi Qingxuan is asleep, He Xuan slips out of their bed and heads to the kitchen. Without even thinking of it, he makes his way through, collecting ingredients as he goes. Before him, his spread of jars and bowls and cod lie on the counters, head and all; its scales glisten as the remnants of ice melt and drip onto the wooden surface.

He is too distracted to even notice the smell of dead fish that hangs in the air. It’s a wonder that Shi Qingxuan— sick Shi Qingxuan, who can hardly breathe without choking— won’t be cured from the stench alone. 

He snatches one of the jars, opening it to be greeted with a wave of putrid vinegar. Without flinching, he grabs the mustard greens, not even wiping his hand before taking a knife and dicing them. Slice, slice, the sound of the knife echoes through the room, overpowering the roar of flames behind him. Louder than the sizzle of oil, and the crash of waves in his head. Slice, slice, the sound of metal against wood; slicing too hard, or slicing too long, and the sound turns harsher, like rusted gears grinding together. Or the sounds bones make when they’re stepped on and crunched into dust.

As he slices, he wonders what would happen if slipped and cut his fingers. Cut them off entirely. One slip and he’s bleeding everywhere, red mixing with green, until everything is eventually red. It keeps coming, spouting from him like a water fountain. Or it wouldn’t, because he’s dead, not living, and nothing would come from him at all.

There hasn’t been blood in his body for a long time, and yet he breathes easy. Revenge hadn’t managed to make him live again, and love might be what finally kills him.

He throws the greens into the pan, ignoring as everything hisses back at him. Oil jumps out like a lashing snake, to which he ignores its venomous bite. Instead, he stands there for a few moments, uncomfortably close, until it manages to tame itself under his harsh glare.

Then, he fetches the fish. Grabs it by the nape, making a small incision which slowly grows as he pushes down, the knife flowing through the thing like swans glide through the water. It falls in two, one in each hand. He squeezes it as if to make it squirm. It’s dead, cold and slimy in his hands.

The knife is harsh as it scrapes the last of the scales. It’s biting and jagged, leaving small cuts into the fish from where He Xuan grew careless. In the end, he’s left with two piles; one of meat and one of shimmering scales. He takes the meat and replaces it in the pan, moving the greens to a pot. 

The meat turns from white to golden as it begins to flake apart, falling off the bone. He knows he could reanimate it now, shove a soul of a ghost into the thing and make it sentient. It would roll around in the pan screaming until He Xuan took pity on it, or it faded again.

He knows it’s dead, and he knows he’s the one who took its life. It was a small life, swimming in his lake, days and days of circles. It’s dead in the dish, and he wants to know whether it can give life. You cook food for a purpose, not enjoyment. You cook food to sustain yourself. If he cooks it long enough, will it sustain Shi Qingxuan forever?

Would they live forever?

He finds the knife again, coating it in the fish’s slick and the mustard green’s vinegar, and dices spring onions. Back and forth, back and forth, he slices and slices. He finds garlic too, mashes it into chunks, mashes and mashes until it’s nothing. He throws them together, covering out the smell of dead fish; drowning it, smothering it, until it’s onions and garlic, onions and garlic and the vinegar that’s soaked into his palms.

The fish is golden, and he removes it from the pan and throws it in the pot. It’s dead eye still glistens back at him. He looks away.

From nowhere, water appears, filling the pot so everything is submerged. Drowning again. The water turns a murky colour, grey and cloudy from the fish. He removes the pan and replaces it with the pot, letting it simmer.

Taking the taro, he slices it. Slices and slices into thin chunks, the way he would have done with the fish if he didn’t need the bones. Bones are good for recovery. A-Die always said you recovered faster if you cooked with the bones. His sister would laugh and say that the fish eyes were the best part.

Shi Qingxuan doesn’t like fish eyes.

He takes the tofu and cuts it too, little white squares. The taro cooks until golden. When the pot has finished simmering, he throws in the two. A splash of salt. Only for a few minutes more does he leave it, until everything threatens to boil over.

He takes it off the heat. Leaves it to cool. Spoons out a bowl, grabbing the meat and the vegetables. He coats it in the soup when he notices he’s left too much in the pot.

Finally, he takes his hands and thrusts them into the burning bowl, feeling for the fish bones that still remain. They have to be removed, or Shi Qingxuan will choke. The eye still watches him from the pot. He focuses on his hands, which are turning a light pink. It’s the most alive he’s looked in years. His skin is burning but it will fade within the next minute. His body is too cold to sustain damages like burns. The water washes them all away.

When he’s satisfied, he places his pile of bones with the pile of fish scales. He takes the bowl— his elixir of life— and delivers it to Shi Qingxuan’s room.

He hopes it will keep them alive forever.

*

As He Xuan walks into the room again, he makes his steps loud enough for Shi Qingxuan to stir. By the time he’s finished settling by their bed, they’ve already opened their hazy eyes and began blinking as they try to clear the sleep-fog away. When they manage to focus on He Xuan, they pull up a weak smile, though it fades into a grimace when they try to push2 themselves into a sitting position.

Before they can ask, He Xuan is there assisting them, moving the pillows so their back doesn’t rest against the unforgivingly hard wall.

“Did you cook?” They ask, voice croaky as they spy the steaming bowl. “Ah!-” They lament- “I won’t even be able to taste it!”

“Then I’ll cook it again.” He Xuan promises. “Every day, until you’re sick of it.”

Shi Qingxuan looks at him blearily, as if trying to make sense of what they heard. Eventually, it seems to click because they turn back and look at the food; whether the heat in their cheeks is from the fever or the fact that they’re flustered, it’s impossible to tell. 

“Are you gonna feed me or what?” They ask instead. He Xuan grabs the bowl and does so. He tries to keep the worry from their notice, but he thinks he lets it come through anyway, when Shi Qingxuan looks at him and frowns.

“What's wrong?” They ask, with a startling amount of coherency compared to this morning. It seems the spiritual energy helped more than he had realised.

“You’re the one who is sick,” He Xuan replies. “And yet it is still you trying to take care of me.”

“Do you want me to make you do more work?” Shi Qingxuan jokes. “Go! I want every fruit at my disposal. And every blanket you can find!”

“Too many blankets and then it’ll be you who melts into a puddle, Qingxuan.” He Xuan warns, though makes note of their symptoms. The soup had probably helped settle their stomach, and perhaps cleared some of the sniffling, though it hasn’t entirely removed the fever. That was the spiritual energy’s job, and even then, there’s only so much it can do.

“Haha.” Shi Qingxuan says. And then they’re shifting forwards again with urgency. He Xuan grabs at the bucket and thrusts it under them, though nothing comes up. After a few moments of rubbing their back, Shi Qingxuan slumps back against the wall again, letting out a series of heavy breaths. “This is horrible.” They decide. 

He Xuan hums in sympathy, letting another stream of spiritual energy connect them together. They sigh as it floods through them, probably leaving them feeling comfortably warm, even as it works to bring down the temperature of their burning forehead.

It takes a few more tries but Shi Qingxuan manages to finish the bowl and keep it down without retching. Then, with minimal coaxing, they are swayed to fall asleep again. The only thing they had asked for was that He Xuan stays with them the entire time, and makes sure he wraps their arm around them to keep them cosy.

To that pleading gaze, He Xuan had found it impossible to disagree.

So there he lies, staring up at the ceiling as the sun floats on by, with Shi Qingxuan pressed tightly against his side. He can feel their heat radiating from them, though he doesn’t send another burst of spiritual energy in case it overwhelms their body. 

When it feels safe to move again, he lifts his right arm— the one that Shi Qingxuan isn’t laid on top of— and lifts it to his forehead, stating Xie Lian’s communication array password.

Your Highness?

I’ve told you. You can call me Xie Lian.

And have Hua Cheng come back and destroy me?

He hears Xie Lian laugh over the array, which really means he’s sitting wherever he is and thinking very hard about laughing so it conveys across. 

Did you need something? Ghost City is fine.

No, I wanted to ask something of you.

He pauses here, unsure how to word it. Despite his debt to Hua Cheng, he had never quite managed to master the skill of asking for things; whether it was for assistance or even favours, he had never liked not being self-sufficient on his own. Even now, knowing that Xie Lian won’t take advantage of his weakness, it is hard to put it into words.

Oh?

I have heard there are ways of sharing spiritual energy. 

He feels the embarrassment roll of Xie Lian in waves.

You… Black Water, you came to ask me about kissing? Haven’t you…

No! He Xuan cries, and almost disturbs Shi Qingxuan from how hard he jolts. No! I wanted to ask about more… Permanent methods. Of linking two bodies together, so both… Both can cultivate. 

Oh. Xie Lian repeats, though this time his tone sounds somewhat emptier. Yes, I know about this. 

He Xuan doesn’t ask why.

Would you be able to teach me? 

He is met with silence. It stretches for minutes, though he can still feel Xie Lian in their connection. He lets it fall to the back of his mind, focusing on the form in front of him instead. Still swelteringly hot but at least sleeping peacefully now, soothed by He Xuan’s weight pulling them in. 

Shi Qingxuan is mortal. And in this moment, it is undeniable.

He Xuan’s heart is dead in his chest but Shi Qingxuan’s beats with life, the stuttering staccato off it echoing through to him. It swings between frantic and slow, as if their body cannot make its mind up on how to feel.

He Xuan looks at them and feels his soul fragment. Feels it break into two.

Xie Lian’s voice sounds across their connection.

I can. But you’d have to promise me.

What?

You won’t let yourself come to harm because of this.

What does it matter?

I’m serious.

He Xuan stays silent. If Xie Lian is truly worried, then the process must be arduous, or at least highly risky. Even as he thinks this, he knows he has already made up his mind.

I won’t let yourself be destroyed. I have seen what it can do and… I know it isn’t worth it, if you want it in the same capacity that I— if you want it to solve everything. 

It may be a solution but- Xie Lian pauses here, as if collecting his words- The person you’re trying to save wouldn’t be happy at what it cost you.

I understand. He Xuan says, and he means it as a promise. I will be careful with it. With myself.

Good . Xie Lian concedes. Somehow, over the array, it sounds distantly relieved. When Shi Qingxuan is feeling better, come visit Ghost City.

The connection shatters, leaving He Xuan there to stare at the ceiling as time floats on by. The last remnants of the lingering smell of fish finally begin to fade from the room. Shi Qingxuan’s snores take the forefront of his focus, as he stares up at the endless ceiling.

Distantly, he wonders just how Xie Lian saw through him so easily.

*

The next day, Shi Qingxuan seems to be on the mend. They eat in the morning, though it gets thrown up quite quickly. Later, however, they manage another bowl of soup that stays down, and take in reasonable amounts of water to start recovering from dehydration. Coherency comes easier too, helped along by frequent spiritual energy transfers— to lift their mood, He Xuan always makes sure to exaggerate the whole ordeal.

When Shi Qingxuan wakes, it’s to a kiss on their forehead. After they’ve eaten, He Xuan takes the bowl from their hands, before bringing them to his lips, where he plants a gentle kiss and lets his powers flow through him. As Shi Qingxuan walks from their bedroom to the garden, eager for some fresh air, He Xuan follows behind them in case they fall, and places little kisses down their neck whenever they take a pause against a wall.

When they bat him away, it’s playful; they always drag him back in again the next second anyway.

“Come on,” Shi Qingxuan murmurs. “Let me see my flowers again. And my pretty little sky.”

The next hour is spent sitting on their bench, Shi Qingxuan resting their head upon He Xuan’s shoulder. The sounds of nature rise around them again, when it becomes apparent they are no threat. It lulls Shi Qingxuan into a state of dazing, as He Xuan takes deep breath after breath and lets it flow through his entirety.

“Ah,” Shi Qingxuan sighs, an hour or so later. “I feel much better now.”

“Fresh air is good for you.” He Xuan agrees. A bitter taste comes over his tongue as he says, “No swimming for a while.”

Shi Qingxuan sighs again but nods. Then, they pout, poking at He Xuan’s shoulders. “I knew you’d say that. But I agree, if it means I’ll be able to actually taste your soup this time around.”

Shi Qingxuan stands and offers their hands to He Xuan, who is pulled to his feet. He Xuan casts them a confused look but Shi Qingxuan just grins. 

“Let's go for a walk!”

“Should we-”

“I don’t want to hear it!” They exclaim, childishly covering their ears. He Xuan can’t fight back his smile, so he ends up looking endlessly fond even as he tries to feign annoyance. Not that Shi Qingxuan notices, with how they’re marching off, expecting He Xuan to follow. “We won’t go far! Just into our woods… Maybe we can find a waterfall again! And we can always make an array to get home quickly if we need to.”

He Xuan should’ve known this was a battle he would lose. One look and he’s already reforming his strict ‘stay inside forever and never get hurt’ policy.

“Okay.” He says, and Shi Qingxuan lights up like a blazing bonfire.

*

The hike is hardly difficult but it still takes them some time. Shi Qingxuan walks slowly, with their arms folded behind their back like the elderly as they peer up into the trees. He Xuan makes sure they follow a trail he’s travelled before, and offers his arm when there’s some particularly uneven areas, despite him having done his best to avoid the arduous tracks. He holds their walking stick in the other.

As he expected, they make it to the waterfall quickly, and Shi Qingxuan lets out an excited little sound upon seeing it. They rush forward as quickly as they can before leveraging themselves to the floor, sitting upon a rock. Leaning forward, they let the water run through their fingers for a few seconds until they pull their knees back to their chest and begin working off their shoes.

“Xuan’er!” They call, when they notice He Xuan standing behind them, not doing much of anything. “Come here! We can dip our toes in.”

He Xuan goes, taking off his shoes with ease. Shi Qingxuan struggles with one shoe but eventually manages it, grinning triumphantly. The water is cool when they submerge their feet, though not too startling to adjust to. Still, Shi Qingxuan complains, and pouts when He Xuan casts them a look.

“What, it is cold!” They pout. But they soon get back to splashing, unbothered by it. Then, they cast him a calculating look. “You seem to have known where we were going… Did you bring us here?”

“You asked to see a waterfall.” He says. It’s loud behind them, so they almost have to shout at each other. Shi Qingxuan pays it no mind, of course, and speaks loudly over it, as usual.

“Ah, He-Xiong, you’re so good! This is very nice.” They say, giving another little sigh as they look back into the water. The shape of He Xuan beside them ripples, becoming a mess of blacks and browns against the otherwise pale rocks. “I wish we could stay here forever.”

He Xuan’s throat clenches and he swallows to try and rid himself of the lump that’s found itself in his throat. He says nothing for a few moments before managing a quiet hum. With a faraway gaze, Shi Qingxuan continues staring at nothing.

The moment ends in an instant, when Shi Qingxuan blinks back to themselves and looks back at He Xuan lightly, as if they hadn’t just put his entire world in jeopardy.

“Do you want to go back now?”

“So soon?” He Xuan asks, slightly startled.

“Of course!” Shi Qingxuan says, pushing themselves to their feet. Quickly, He Xuan steps out of the river to help them stand, lest they trip on the slippery rocks. “Thank you! If I stay here too long, you’ll have to drag me back home, so you should be content to take me whilst I’m still willing.”

He Xuan feels much of the same. 

“Besides, this place will still be here. We’ll always be able to come back.”

Walking away, they leave He Xuan to cast one last glance at the place before he follows.

“If you say so.” He responds, and neither of them say anything more until they’re back within the thick of trees.

“Why don’t they touch?” Shi Qingxuan asks, back to staring at the sky. They’re looking at the trees, each having a small gap between them, just large enough that you could stick your hand through and reach for the stars.

“The trees probably don’t want to hurt themselves, or one another.” He Xuan says. Observations have been made in texts, yet nobody solidly knows why; he thinks of his own theories. “If the wind blows too hard, and their branches get intertwined, it could lead to them snapping off entirely, or at least stunted growth.”

“Hmm.” Shi Qingxuan says. “Maybe they’re just shy! Don’t want to touch in case it’s too forward, and all.” They add, moving closer to nudge He Xuan’s arm. “Sounds like someone I know.”

“I’m not shy.”

“Mn, you’ve opened up a bit!” Shi Qingxuan agrees, in a twisted sort of way. “But you used to blush no matter what I said. Now I have to work for it! Aish, life gets harder the longer you go on.”

Despite himself, He Xuan blushes. It takes Shi Qingxuan a second to notice, but when they do, they let out a peal of laughter.

“Ah, that was an easy one! I didn’t even say anything!”

“You’ve gone and proved your hypothesis incorrect.” He Xuan says instead, staring at the floor. After a second, he moves his gaze back to Shi Qingxuan, who is already looking at him.

“Thank you.” They say, suddenly sincere. It makes He Xuan want to choke. “For taking care of me! It was… It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Wasn’t as bad as before.”

“Before?”

“The streets aren’t exactly clean.” They laugh, though it’s a broken thing. “But it’s okay! I’m living here now, with you. Much better! Always warm.” They grin, this time more genuine.

For lack of anything to say to their tragedy— the one forged by his own two hands— he says, “I’m glad I could take care of you.”

He means, I’m glad you let me in and didn’t push me away. I’m glad I have you. I’m glad you’re here with me, and will stay until the end of time.

He says I love you, and means oh, please, never leave me again.

*

When they arrive home, it's with Shi Qingxuan pressing themselves against He Xuan's side, as they valiantly attempt to silence their puffing breaths. With enough manoeuvring, He Xuan gets them seated at the table and immediately bustles off to boil a pot of tea.

This way, he can leave Shi Qingxuan to pull themselves together. Feeling weak in front of others is never pleasant, He Xuan knows, so he gives them this small mercy.

He throws another log on the fire, stocking it until he deems it adequate. Smoke drifts through the air, the comforting smell of home, though one with a slight weight to it. It works well to calm the nerves. He Xuan takes a deep breath before returning to them.

"Hah," They say, another little puff of air escaping them. They imperceptibly slump towards the table. He Xuan settles and begins pouring two cups. "Maybe we shouldn't have walked so far, hm?"

"We know for next time." He Xuan smiles. "Come, drink up. Your favourite."

Shi Qingxuan reaches forward eagerly, cupping their hands around the bowl as if to warm themselves. Now that He Xuan looks, it's clear they're half frozen. The wind is always unkind to them, especially now that it's edging closer to winter. The seasons' change is rough on everyone but the cold is a special kind of torture for them.

"Very nice." They agree, taking another sip. "I don't feel sick anymore. Surprisingly."

"I suppose the spiritual energy worked it out of your system. And the fresh air must have helped."

"At the expense of my leg."

He Xuan freezes. "You can rest now. There's nothing that particularly needs doing-" At Shi Qingxuan's dry look, he amends- "Nothing that can't wait."

"Of course you'd say that." Shi Qingxuan says. "Look at my garden! It's almost a jungle out there. I can't let all my plants just die!"

"It'll be winter soon." He says what they both know. "They'll be dying soon anyway."

"I know," They reply, voice incredibly soft. "But I'd like to have them around a little longer."

He Xuan casts a look out of the window, to which he can see a few bushes and the vines that scale the side of the house. Most of the flowers have already begun to drop off, though the majority of leaves from trees remain. From this morning, he remembers the place being vibrant, though that might simply have been because of Shi Qingxuan's presence there.

He also knows that Shi Qingxuan has been trying their damndest not to let their flowers die, going so far as to challenge nature itself.

With this thought, He Xuan makes up his mind.

"I will garden for you." He says. Although this is Shi Qingxuan's project, he refuses to let it go to waste. "In the morning, you can boss me around for a bit. I know you like to."

Shi Qingxuan grins, then frowns. "The morning only?"

"Mn, His Highness has asked for a meeting. Though he said it would be quick, with our current situation."

"Hm." Shi Qingxuan sighs, clearly unhappy, though they brighten again when they think of the rest of his sentence. "You do know me well; I love ordering you about! My own little servant for the day."

"And you say I never treat you to anything." He Xuan teases.

"No, no. My Xuan'er treats me very well." Shi Qingxuan smiles, face serene as they spread the most simple truth. Something about it all gets under He Xuan's skin, and he turns from white to red in a matter of moments. "Ahh, you're so cute! Every time!!" They grin, reaching across the table to grab at his cheeks, even as they wince when their leg knocks against hardwood.

"You're the sweetest thing, I swear it."

He Xuan takes another sip of tea, and resolutely vows to never open his eyes or ears again, so he won't be attacked by Shi Qingxuan's sweet talk.

*

He Xuan sets off to the Ghost City the following afternoon, after going to bed with Shi Qingxuan. It was comfortable between them; He Xuan missed this warmth, the kind that didn't feel like he was burning up from the inside. He's sure Shi Qingxuan is happy about the arrangement too, as they're particularly clingy about the whole affair.

Still, managing to get them out of bed is a chore and getting them dressed is impossible, so they end up sitting out in the garden together, both in their innermost clothes. He Xuan's are soft enough that they keep snagging on thorns; Shi Qingxuan's tinkling laugh sounds every time, even as they make him move his hand over to their lips so they can kiss the smallest scrape.

“All better, thank you." They say each time. He Xuan turns again, almost the colour of roses. He wonders why he can't stop blushing anymore. Then, their voice would turn more serious as they began giving out orders again. "Cut it back above the leaf. No! Higher! Down a bit! And tilt it a little bit, can't cut it straight across-"

All in all, He Xuan enjoyed every moment of it.

Walking into Ghost City again feels like a death sentence somehow, with how sombre the atmosphere around the place is.

In truth, he hates being here when Xie Lian is here. The place is enthused with misery, even as His Highness attempts to keep things bright. But with Yin Yu missing, who had become a staple of this place to He Xuan, the place feels a bit scarce, unhelped by the massive whole Hua Chengzhu himself has obviously left in the place.

Now, He Xuan never thought he'd miss Hua Cheng particularly much, or care if he disappeared for stretching periods of time. But with Xie Lian looking like a kicked puppy the moment no one is talking to him, it's hard not to wish he would come back even a day early, so that miserable look can be wiped away.

He Xuan doesn't say as such. Instead, he offers a sympathetic smile and a way to take his mind off it for a while.

"You said there was an array?" He asks, as if it hasn't been what he's solely focused on for the past two days. 

"There is." Xie Lian nods, and beckons for He Xuan to follow him deeper into Paradise Manor, supposedly where the library is. 

He Xuan never cared to map out the place particularly well. He knew the general layout: dining room, kitchen, pavilions; all the places he appeared in most. Other places he could guess, like the bedrooms being located on the East side so they could watch the sun come up. Those sappy kinds of things that Hua Cheng always liked, or thought Xie Lian would appreciate so prepared them in advance.

"It involves the golden core, where spiritual energy is contained. Yours is intact?-" He Xuan nods, and Xie Lian sighs, relieved- "Then this should work, if nothing goes wrong."

The process involves taking the core and halving it, splitting each between two people. Or more, if you are particularly self-sacrificing." Xie Lian explains. "There is a method where... You can give your core up entirely. And they would have the full extent of their powers, plus whatever they managed to build on their own. This is... The last case resort. I would speak against this entirely."

"What would it do?"

"It'd leave you entirely mortal, for a start. Nothing would be solved." Xie Lian says in the tone of someone who has spent hours debating the benefits and drawbacks of the entire process. "With your core, I think it should go smoothly. You're a Calamity, and Shi Qingxuan has felt the touch of spiritual energy before, so they should be receptive to it."

"There were no issues when they were sick. I performed the transfer multiple times and it helped."

"That's good." Xie Lian nods, brows drawn together in thought. They come up to a set of wide doors, which swing open to reveal a grand library. It's larger than He Xuan's entire bedroom back in Black Water Manor. Figures.

Xie Lian heads towards the back, where a table stacked with books stands. He settles in the corner, so He Xuan takes a seat beside him, watching as he begins to shuffle things about. It's a sort of organised chaos, and he doesn't dare touch anything.

"Here." Xie Lian says, and hands him a book. "This one outlines the process; what we should prepare, what we'll do, everything like that. I need you to make sure you're happy with it. And that Shi Qingxuan is happy with it.'

He Xuan nods.

"They do know you're doing this, right?"

He Xuan, predictably, says nothing.

It isn't that he doesn't want to tell them. It's that, right now, everything feels fragile. Like it's on the edge of a tipping point, hanging off a cliff with a jagged demise waiting at the bottom of it. Though he knows that's hardly the case— true, inescapable misfortune should not catch up to Shi Qingxuan yet, not for a few years— it still feels so close. So daunting.

When you're immortal, time passes strangely. Sometimes he blinks and an entire day has gone by without him realising. He's lived so long that a few years feels like nothing, and he's not sure how Shi Qingxuan copes with it. Copes with the feeling of being alive again.

For He Xuan, being dead was perhaps one of the best things to happen to him. No more worries about putting food on the table. No more worries about getting a job, or caring for his family. Death was a freedom he welcomed in the end, and he knew what to do from the start.

But, in Shi Qingxuan's case, it's nothing of the same. They are made to live; every action sings with it. The way they walk with as much of a beat in their step as they can manage, head held high. How they sing to the flowers when they forget He Xuan can hear, or how sometimes they'll sing folk songs loudly anyway, and laugh when He Xuan grows shy of their bawdy lyrics.

They have a garden. They miss people when they don't venture into the world for a while. Sometimes, they manage to have the most forgiving of souls.

"You must tell them before we go ahead with this, He Xuan." Xie Lian orders, voice stern. "Just like what was done to you, if you mess with this without their knowledge... It's a violation. I think you’ll understand that."

"I will. I do." He Xuan promises. He knows he will have to talk about it, and he gears himself up for the conversation every moment that he can. "He needs to know. But I... I don't know whether I can take it if he says no."

"Talk it through and it'll be fine." Xie Lian advises. “I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end but don't leave it until it's too late."

They spent the next hour in silence as they skim through book after book. He Xuan researches as Xie Lian takes note of what things he may need for the set-up. 

"Ah, the incense has gone out." Xie Lian says on the mark of the first hour. It was burning for a while before he came. "You should go home now. I've kept you long enough."

Looking at Xie Lian, with messy hair from running his hands through it and a pale complexion borne only from anxiety, He Xuan feels a deep sympathy. Suddenly, it hits him just how much Xie Lian has done. He throws himself into a bow so he can't begin to see how his eyes have started watering. "Your Highness, you have helped me beyond belief."

"None of this now. Up, up!" He urges, placing a hand on He Xuan's elbow. "And it's 'Xie Lian', you know that! No formalities between friends."

"Hua Cheng would have my head." He Xuan insists, though rises, blinking rapidly. Xie Lian doesn't say a word on the state of him.

"Well, I'll make sure he doesn't say a thing." Xie Lian smiles, in the sad way he always does when Hua Cheng is mentioned. He Xuan can't bring himself to regret it. He repeats, "You'd better get home now. I'll watch over Ghost City for a while. You stay with Qingxuan."

"Of course." He Xuan agrees, before turning to go draw an array on an empty wall.

"And He Xuan?"

"Yes?"

"Send my well wishes."

*

More and more of He Xuan's time is spent in Ghost City for preparation. Although it's hardly anything compared to the trial Shi Qingxuan went through, it still wears him down. The place feels like it's sucking the life out of him, and when he returns to Qingxuan's arms, they always ask him what's wrong. What's the matter with him. Where have you been?

And He Xuan will swallow the words out of fear of being pushed away, when all he wants is to be held for a moment longer.

Today, in Paradise Manor— where nothing feels like paradise, and a special kind of torture instead, actually— they're reviewing the texts for the fifth or so time to assure they haven't missed anything. They haven't, of course, and so the task is mind-numbing, but both of them understand its importance.

"I asked Feng Xin and Mu Qing to accompany us for the transfer." Xie Lian essentially says. That's what they've taken to calling it: the transfer. Not the array, which is too vague. Not the operation, which suggests something medical. The transfer, all clinical and distant and numb. "They'll provide the extra energy we need. And they're probably the most likely to not want to kill you on sight."

"Are you sure of that?" He Xuan replies, thinking back to how they've reacted to Hua Cheng in the past. Though he has only a fraction of his notoriety, killing a god still earns you quite the negative reputation for some reason. Dating one doesn't seem to bring it up any either.

"They'll keep in line if I tell them to behave." Xie Lian promises. For a moment, he looks entirely gleeful about it, before it fades back into his usual sad air again. "Have you told Shi Qingxuan yet?"

"No." He Xuan says. Xie Lian casts him a look, both sympathetic and chiding. He doesn't know how to reply.

"You need to."

"I know."

"You don't have long left." Xie Lian says. "It's almost ready."

"I know." He replies. If he was human, and needed to breathe, he feels like he'd be wheezing. His chest moves of its own accord anyway; up and down, up and down, out of his own control. "Tonight." He manages.

"Tonight, I'll do it." He promises.

The chance comes to him sooner than he expected. In fact, it comes to him entirely through absolutely no work of his own.

He returns home in the evening, as the sun sets. He's been getting home later during the final few days of organising. The lies he prepares wash over his tongue— I was helping Xie Lian in Ghost City, it's getting bad again, you know how it is this time of year, don't you?— and he swallows them down, ignoring the sour taste. He knows what he has to do.

Shi Qingxuan is sat on the bed when he comes in. He finds them after only a minute of searching, and his light smile melts away.

They are not angry, it seems, but an unease of sorts spreads through him regardless. The lines of their shoulders are tense, and their expression is unreadable. He Xuan expects this not to be a happy talk.

So He Xuan does what he always does, and rips the bandaid clean off. He is not one to postpone the inevitable, not when it's already started.

He used to be the master of doing the things he never wanted to do. In the past year, he's grown complacent. Soft. Shi Qingxuan looks at him, all heartbroken, and he feels his heart shatter again.

"I was at-"

"Ghost City, yes. I know. Every day, you are at Ghost City. Some days, I am certain you've spent more time there than here." Shi Qingxuan says. Their voice is raised, loud that it reverberates through the room. Loud enough that He Xuan flinches back, ever so slightly, as if to hide himself from it.

"I'm trying to-"

"Yes, you want to help him! Yes, it's rough there, and he's struggling, and I get that. Trust me, I do. I understand. But why... Why are you never here? And when you are, you don't talk about it. You don't talk much about anything.

"I can feel you drawing into yourself. I don't know where you go and you won't let me bring you out."

They sigh, letting shudders roll through them. Tear tracks mark their cheeks. "Sometimes, when you look at me... It's as if you see through me. Like I'm as thin as paper that’ll rip in the slightest breeze. And I know I am not as strong as I used to be but I am not weak. Even if I can't... Can't control wind, or shower everyone with merits, or spread joy like an infection. I'm still Shi Qingxuan, the brother of Shi Wudu. I'm still yours. So why don't you see me anymore."

Shi Qingxuan trembles. There, they sit on their bed that He Xuan didn't sleep in last night because he was too anxious. He spent the entire night at the lake, feeling Shi Qingxuan's eyes watching him through the window as he ran his feet through the water, circling again and again. Shi Qingxuan trembles, and He Xuan doesn't know how to stop it.

"I..." He tries, but nothing sounds right as he thinks it. "I'm trying to help."

"By not being here?" Shi Qingxuan bites.

He Xuan flinches again, and this time Shi Qingxuan sees it. He takes a breath, two, and lets them out, alongside everything he feels. It flows out of him like a river, and he feels himself drop to his knees, though it hardly registers.

"I'm- Xie Lian has found a way. To share a soul." He says. All of a sudden, he feels rather numb. "I want to help you. I can't see you go too. I have lost too much, and I am selfish, and I won't let you go too.

"My family have died. I have ruined the life of the one I love most. If I can help recover what was lost, I would. Maybe not in full-" He thinks of Shi Wudu's sneer, and backpedals- "But I do not wish to see you suffer. His Highness has found a method in which I could save you. You could live forever with me."

"And you think I wish to be saved?" Shi Qingxuan asks, appalled. Somehow, they sound more enraged than before. "I have said I do not wish to ascend again. I don't want to be an official. There's nothing heavenly about the place. I'd rather die than step foot there again."

"You don't have to." He Xuan pleads. "I'm a Calamity, not a god. My power wouldn't grant you that sort of immortality."

"And-" Shi Qingxuan starts, subdued. They sound strangely hesitant about it all, as they shuffle on the bed, before pitching forward too, settling on the floor beside He Xuan, legs in an awkward angle. "Would I have to die?"

"No!" He Xuan startles. "I wouldn't- I'd never ask that of you!"

"Then why have you waited so long to tell me, if this is a supposed 'cure-all'?"

"Because," He Xuan says, swallowing. He drags his eyes up from the wooden floorboards to stare at Shi Qingxuan resolutely. "Because I didn't want to hear you say 'no.'"

With that, Shi Qingxuan slumps against him. They push into each other's embraces as if it's the only thing they have tethering them here. He Xuan feels their heart beat against his own empty chest, feels it echoing through him. He never wants this moment to stop and he wants it to end all at once. The two sides inside him war, until he closes his eyes and cries into their hair.

A hand finds itself on the back of his head and he wraps his own arms around their wracking frame. He sobs and sobs until there's nothing left of him to give, and they stay in each other's arms until his entire body numbs. He has no clue how Shi Qingxuan is still sitting there, uncomplaining.

He pulls back and looks at them. Their soft eyes are watery too, but they smile at him, all pink and shaky. He Xuan kisses them, for only a second but it is enough. It's enough to say everything that he can't otherwise convey.

"This isn't a yes." Shi Qingxuan whispers. "I don't know whether I want this. You will let me think."

"Of course." He Xuan says. It doesn't hurt like he expected. It's not a no. It's not a never. "Do you want a bath?"

He thinks of washing their hair. Kissing their neck. Scrubbing them clean, and massaging them free of their aches. Soothing with spiritual energy and telling them they could have this forever. Most importantly, he thinks of their face, slack with relaxation and a hint of tiredness. He Xuan would carry them to their bed and wipe them dry, before gently rubbing their hair without jostling them. He'd bring out their comb and brush it through for them, smiling gently to himself as they'd slowly begin to slump against him, unable to even keep their eyes open at the light sensations tugging at their scalp.

"Yes." Shi Qingxuan answers softly. It sounds like birdsong on the dawn of a new day. "I'd like that."

At once, everything is okay again. Everything is okay.

*

That morning, Shi Qingxuan kisses his eyelids when he’s waking up. They peer over him and kiss him again, tongue and all. He Xuan hardly has a chance to blink before they’re on top of him, kissing him like their lives depend on it.

They kiss and kiss, until Shi Qingxuan draws away for breath. Or they might be laughing, as they stare at the ceiling and look delighted with themselves.

“Yes.” They say. “Yes, I’ll do it.”

The crash of waves sounds in He Xuan’s head as the rest of the world seems to fade away slightly.

“I’ll do it!” They shout. “I want to kiss you like that for hours! And never let you go again. And I’ll forever tend my garden. And I’ll be able to swim again!”

“It’s not a ‘cure-all’, as you put it-”

“I know! I know, I know, I know. I spent the entire night thinking of it.” Shi Qingxuan grins. They can’t stop smiling. Something about them has fundamentally changed, enlightened with the hope they never thought they could have, and they seem to glow. It’s like they’ll never not be happy again. “I want to kiss you forever. I want to see every sunrise there is to see. I want to see the world like we used to! I want this so, so much that I don’t think you even know.”

“I do.” He mumbles against their neck, as he pulls them back down to kiss them again. He has to touch them. He feels their warmth seep into him, and he never wants to let go. “I do know.”

“I want to feel you.” Shi Qingxuan says. Their eyes gleam with something. He Xuan blinks, and realises he’s in over his head. “I want to touch you forever.”

“There’s no better time than the present.” He Xuan says, before he shuts up for a very long time.

*

Later, the barrier surrounding their farmhouse ripples as someone passes through it, alerting He Xuan to consciousness. The only one currently allowed permanent access is Xie Lian, however, so he relaxes again, until a knock sounds at the door.

The two of them are lying in bed when it happens, each begging the other to go and answer the door so they can remain comfortable in bed.

“It’s your turn.” Shi Qingxuan pleads inaccurately, letting out a yawn. They’re due for an afternoon nap, and He Xuan would be quite content to join them, if business didn’t call.

“I’ll be back in a moment then.” He Xuan says, before he forces himself up and out. Casting one last glance back at Shi Qingxuan— where they’ve stretched themselves out, like a cat lounging in the sunlight— he prepares himself to inform Xie Lian that their plan is actually happening.

“Your Highness?” He Xuan asks. He feels uncharacteristically nervous, like his hope is going to be for nothing. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes! It’s fine. I thought I’d check in after our conversation yesterday.” Xie Lian says. Shi Qingxuan lets out a tired groan from the bedroom after a long stretch of shuffling sounds, to which he smiles. “And I told you to call me Xie Lian.”

“I shouldn't.” He Xuan replies, as he always does. “You can come in. I'll put on a pot of tea. Shi Qingxuan is resting.”

“And they know what we discussed?”

“Yes." He Xuan smiles. "They agreed.”

Xie Lian's eyes light up like a lantern as he settles down at the table. “That's wonderful.” His tone is entirely sincere, even as his face takes on the shape of worry. “And you told them of the precautions?”

“Not entirely. It was more…” He trails off, unsure how to describe the swinging emotions of the scene. In all honesty, the worry that Shi Qingxuan wouldn't listen to what he had to say at all was at the forefront of his mind, drowning out everything else. 

He returns to Xie Lian with the tea, pouring them both a cup. After taking a sip, he says, “I've discussed it some more with them this morning. But you're the one in control here.”

“Ah, no,” Xie Lian says, ever humble. “You've been researching with me. You're definitely not lacking any knowledge of the proceeds, not at all.”

“I think it would be better for him to hear it from someone else.” He Xuan decides. In part, it may be cowardice, but truly, it would be easier if someone more distanced said it. “Please.”

Xie Lian sighs but nods. “Of course. And later, will we... Is it alright if we do it so soon, or will they want time?”

He Xuan falls silent. “You will have to ask him.” He eventually replies. The worry comes flooding back again; what if, what if — “We will have one more evening, just to be certain. If he needs more time, he can tell you.”

“Of course.” Xie Lian says again. The wrinkles finally flatten out into something softer; distantly, He Xuan apologises to Hua Cheng for bringing the man before him so much stress. “Everything will go just fine.”

*

That evening, long after Xie Lian has gone, they are curled in bed together. He Xuan's head rests upon Shi Qingxuan's chest, and his eyes are closed even though he's wide awake. The slow rise and fall is soothing, and he finds himself comparing it to the lull of waves rocking you to sleep as your boat simply floats, untethered to the world.

“A-Xuan.” He Xuan says. His voice is level, even if his hands quiver with unspoken emotion. He tightens them into fists, gripping at Shi Qingxuan’s robes. “You’re certain?”

Shi Qingxuan doesn’t ask about what.

Instead, they stop from where they were humming, and speak somehow in an even softer tone. “Yes.”

“Even after with what Xie Lian said. The core-“

“I don’t care if it hurts, He Xuan.” Shi Qingxuan promises. “I know it might hurt. It will hurt, even. I know my body might not be able to take it again, and it’ll take weeks to recover-“ They pause here, a slight hesitancy before they bring one hand from He Xuan’s hair to place it on his heart. “It might destroy your core. But you’re willing, and so am I.”

“Besides,” They continue. “He’s been beating out flaws from this thing for months. If there’s anyone I had to trust after you, it would be him.”

He Xuan nods, taking a deep breath. It smells like the fresh breeze of a summer’s day. It smells like the rich scent of earth after an autumn’s rain. 

It smells like being alive.

Perhaps this is what finally calms him; the idea of Shi Qingxuan’s wide, unfaltering smile again, without being punctuated by half-hidden winces of pain.

He doesn’t let himself hope it will be perfect. But that night, he dreams of a world open to their desires; the beautiful world that embraces them wherever they go. He thinks of Shi Qingxuan dressed in the finery they used to admire, and then he imagines them in their bedclothes. Either way, they are utterly content again. 

He Xuan looks out to this dream world of his, and deems it finally complete. 

*

The next morning greets them quickly, even as the day's pace crawls by, slowed by a sense of unease, the putting off of the inevitable. The final stretch of calm before a disastrous storm.

Or that's what it feels like anyway.

When Xie Lian arrives, Feng Xin and Mu Qing reluctantly behind him, the sun is just beginning its slow descent in the sky. A few clouds litter the sky, though it had rained in the previous days, equalling a warm day outside for them today. 

He Xuan is glad, at least, that they had that. The worry he had felt had been almost paralyzing, though it lessened when Shi Qingxuan continued as if nothing was amiss.

“I trust your journey was alright?” They say dutifully as Feng Xin and Mu Qing take a blatant look-over of the place, ignoring the weird looks the pair direct at them. He Xuan watches them both carefully, only relaxing slightly when they find nothing bad to say. In fact, they remain silent, letting Xie Lian do the talking.

Although he’s already explained the proceedings to He Xuan and Shi Qingxuan, Xie Lian begins his explanation again, likely for Feng Xin and Mu Qing’s benefit. In silence, the trio begin setting up the array in one of their spare rooms. He Xuan and Shi Qingxuan sit to the side, as per Xie Lian’s orders, to prepare themselves .

“His Highness said it would hurt.” Shi Qingxuan says worriedly. Now that company has arrived, they’ve started to look a little nervous. He Xuan pushes aside his own fears and smiles.

“But it won’t last very long hopefully. We know each other well; I don’t think there is a chance of rejection.”

Shi Qingxuan laughs, sunlight in their smile. “You’re right! Nothing can defeat the power of love!”

“You’ve been reading too many of Yun-popo’s romance novels, Qingxuan.” He complains. “No, it’ll be the strength of our characters that will carry us through.”

They become frightfully sincere for a moment. “Of course. You are very strong-” Cupping his face, they place small kisses on his nose, cheeks, forehead. From across the room, Mu Qing looks like he’s about to throw up. The others are ignoring it all- “I’m proud of us both! Let’s get through this together, okay?”

“Okay.” He Xuan says. He grabs their warm hand, squeezing it once. 

“Are you two ready?” Xie Lian asks politely. 

Shi Qingxuan squeezes his hand back. “Of course! Let’s do this!!”

If only it was that easy.

With everyone in their set places— He Xuan and Shi Qingxuan kneeling in the middle of the array, the other three stood outside of it— Xie Lian begins his reading. 

Two and two, minus one,

Take half of mine and make it yours.

Two and two, split in half,

Flowing between us, it cures

The ache of broken hearts.

With that, a sharp pain shoots through He Xuan, making him flinch with surprise. He grits his teeth against it as it strengthens, moving up from his calves into his chest, where it takes root. The physical pain delves deeper than ever before; if he weren’t already kneeling, then he would’ve fallen to the floor. 

It sears through his chest, hotter than the fires of Mount Tonglu. Distantly, he hears Shi Qingxuan shout his name, though eventually even sound is smothered by a high-pitched ringing sound droning on in his ears.

Suddenly, his chest grows cold, void of any warmth it previous retained. Although dead, even he wasn’t typically this cold; this spoke of a lack of spiritual energy, severed from his meridians, severed from him . A foreign fire sparks itself in the remnants of its core, however, burning away what was left.

Then it all stops, and a new feeling floods through him, a comfort he hadn’t expected, nor felt in so long. Though its essence was overwhelmingly of Xie Lian— a kind and soothing feeling— deep down, just beneath it, He Xuan feels the lingering touch of Hua Cheng there, his oldest friend.

He Xuan finally breathes again, letting the air flow through his lungs out of habit. It calms him further, until he can open his eyes again.

In front of him, Shi Qingxuan sits, held up by Feng Xin’s hand on their back. Their eyes are closed, looking serene as they rest. In fact, they hardly look any different at all, except for the tear tracks running down their cheeks.

Before he knows otherwise, He Xuan has already surged forward and wiped them away, taking Shi Qingxuan carefully into his arms. Feng Xin steps away. Finding their pulse, he sighs a breath of relief as it beats beneath his fingers, slow but steady. Then, he probes deeper, slumping with relief as he feels his own core reach back for him.

“It worked.” He Xuan manages, only for a sudden darkness to overcome him.

*

It’s not the feeling of the sun shining on his face through the window that wakes him, nor the sweltering heat that surrounds him, unusual for a day so cool as today. It is the feeling of absolute contentment that rouses him, and sits and revels in it without opening his eyes.

His body feels alive again, alight with something he cannot name. Power surges through every inch of him, reaching places he forgot existed. He pushes and pulls, and the feeling of flames, of hearth, moving through him wherever he commands. Then, he pushes too far and it leaves him all at once; beside him, the figure pressed into his neck gasps as it then floods through them too.

A second later, the feeling returns to him, pushed back into his own body as the feeling became almost overwhelming for Shi Qingxuan. Still, they push it back and forth, into each other in as many ways as they can think of in a morning like this, when their thoughts are not yet orderly.

“A-Xuan.” He Xuan whispers. “Are you awake?”

“Yes.” They whisper back. Why are they whispering? “Can you feel that?”

“Yes.” He Xuan echoes. “My spiritual energy. Ours now.”

“It feels like nothing I’ve ever felt before.” They admit. “It feels good. Warm. I expected it to be cooler.”

“Because I’m cold?”

“Because the sea is there for you to swim in on an uncomfortably hot day.” Shi Qingxuan says. “You always keep me at the right temperature. I thought it’d feel more… Like you.”

“It is like me.” He says. He pushes a branch forward, the strand that feels like the ocean. If spiritual energy could come in colours, this part would be blue and constantly rippling, always flowing somewhere or other. Shi Qingxuan gasps when it hits them, as it floods through their once-dormant meridians and reminds them what it feels like to have control of yourself entirely. “But it’s also like you. It’s us, so of course, it’s a little unfamiliar.”

Shi Qingxuan laughs at that. “I don’t think there’s much that’s unfamiliar between us anymore.” If they had the willpower to move from their comfortable position, He Xuan is sure they would’ve thrown their head back in delight.

“Forward, even after all this time.” He Xuan teases.

“You know me. I’ll never change.” Shi Qingxuan says. Then, they quirk their brow. “We literally share a soul. If there was anyone more intimate with you, I’d be worried.”

“What else do I have left to give, that I haven’t already bestowed upon you.” He Xuan wonders. “If you tell me, I’ll share it. We’re one now.”

“We’re one.” Shi Qingxuan repeats. “I like that. Same beginning, same end.”