Chapter Text
After three days and one small break of relief, Xiao-hai finally felt the stress catch up to him. What he’d been waiting for had happened, and now that the crushing threat of the worst anxiety had lifted, his mind and body crumpled to the need of rest. He didn’t even bother going back to his own room first. As soon as he sat down on the floor at Wang Lu’s bedside and reclined back against it, he felt the heavy velvet curtain of sleep falling over him. Which was a good thing. It would keep him from overthinking again.
He would have slept like that long into the next morning had something not awoken him. A clatter, a thump, followed by what could have been a voice cursing. Xiao-hai’s eyes snapped open, and he was immediately disoriented. His mind was still desperately clinging on to sleep, and the whole room seemed to be at an odd angle. Finally, he realized he’d slipped from his sitting position and fallen fully to the floor. His whole body buzzed and his heart beat so hard it was almost painful: the effects of exhaustion interrupted by a sleep that hadn’t been nearly long enough. Pulling himself halfway to awareness, he squinted grumpily as he looked around for the source of the sound that woke him. The room was dim as the candle had burned itself down to the very end of its wick, its tiny flame struggling. He well understood how it felt.
He turned around to check on Wang Lu.
…Now his flame really was going to go out.
“Wang Lu!?” he screamed, leaping to his feet.
As soon as the shout left his mouth, he clapped his hands over it. For a second he just stood there, trying to think, staring at an empty bed.
Gone. Gone?
…Stop panicking. Wake up. Xiao-hai unthawed, gulping air as he spun to glance all around the room again. It was empty, for sure. But what was wrong with that? Wang Lu woke up and went somewhere in the house—like the kitchen, looking for food. Obviously. Or maybe to the bathroom. What was he freaking out for?
Xiao-hai had one hand on the door when he heard it—from behind him, from outside, the sounds of someone shouting. Short, powerful, borne of effort: a fight. And the voice. Was familiar.
…He didn’t. The hell he didn’t.
Xiao-hai felt like his body was rusted as he wrenched it to turn around and look. He didn’t know whether to be scared, or furious.
The god damn window was wide open.
Below it, left behind, one of Wang Lu’s shoes.
Well, Hai Yunfan still couldn’t tell if he should be afraid or angry, but he knew he had to get out there immediately. Scooping up Wang Lu’s shoe on his way, he flitted out the window as light and easy as a cricket.
The scene that greeted him was…dumbfounding.
The street, lined on either side by walls and other residential buildings, was empty except for one person. A good few meters down the road, Wang Lu stood alone. Wild-haired and disheveled, he held a stick in his hands about the length of a sword. In fact that’s how he was treating it. His stance was a shameful mockery of the one he used in battle, and he pointed his…sword…ahead of him in defiant challenge. He was still wearing nothing but pants and one flimsy white inner robe. Ah, but he was at least responsible enough to put on a single shoe before he left to fight ghosts in the street at the god damned witching hour.
What was he thinking!?
The medicine. Hai Yunfan only just remembered it. The fever medicine he’d taken; Wang Lu’s mother had warned him of the side effects. Hallucination, loss of coordination, delusion. But could it really be this strong? As he ran closer, Hai Yunfan could more clearly hear the slurred and stumbling words Wang Lu was yelling at the empty air.
“…you a lesson before, but. Guess you don’t learn! Al…right, then. Show you…mm’gonna! Show you! You’d gonna regeret—uh…yo-you’ll gegret this!!”
“Wang Lu!” Xiao-hai called, trying not to sound angry.
Wang Lu spun around, and froze him in place with his stare. It was pure panic. Wang Lu’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes clouded and crazed. And as soon as they locked onto Xiao-hai, his face flooded with fear. “No! You! G-go back inside. Don’t come out. They—”
Wang Lu flinched away from some perceived attack and dove into a dodge, his feet tangling up in each other. Xiao-hai winced as he crashed down to the ground, but Wang Lu rolled onto his shoulder and used it to spring himself back to his feet. He backpedaled wildly, swinging his stick in front of him as he tried unsuccessfully to keep the balance he’d just won back.
Hai Yunfan dove forward and grabbed him by the arms before he could trip himself again. “Stop—stop,” he snapped, confused and exhausted and absolutely done. “This is outrageous. No. Absolutely not. Hold still—did you hurt your shoulder just now? You need to be in bed—what on earthare you doing?”
Wang Lu looked up at him in angry shock, completely indignant at being scolded so harshly. He tore out of Xiao-hai’s grasp, fixed him with a stare challenging his audacity, and scoffed. With full seriousness, he said, “Saving your ungrateful ass from assassins! Again!” and swung his sword-stick out to point at the completely empty road.
A few stray leaves blew by in a gust of wind.
“…Wang-xiong. There is nobody there.”
Wang Lu definitely wasn’t about to hear any of that. He groaned with exasperation and ground the heels of his palms into his eyes, heedless of where he swung his stick; he nearly smacked Xiao-hai in the head with it. “Aiyah!! Xiao-hai, are you trying to kill me!? I told you to stay inside so you’re safe—why did you come out here?! Can’t you be good? Ah, you’re so impossible—you really never do a thing I say!”
“…”
Hands curled into talons covered Hai Yunfan’s face as he tipped back his head to the sky, and the sound that escaped from him was almost exactly like a whistling teapot. He even bit one of his own fingers. Never mind assassins; Wang Lu was going to anger him to death.
“Xiao-hai?! What’s wrong? Did they hurt you? Bastards! ”
Pulling a surprising level of coordination out of his drugged and clumsy limbs, Wang Lu scooped Xiao-hai behind his back as he spun around, placing himself between him and…the. Assassins.
“This is why I tell you things, for your own good—but you think you know better than everyone! Now see the mess we’re in. This is really not my fault at all.”
“W…Wang-xiong…you…” Xiao-hai choked out, his voice trembling with anger and warning. But to Wang Lu it must have sounded quite pitiful, only supporting his assumption that Xiao-hai had somehow been injured by these imaginary assailants.
Wang Lu’s eyes were sharp and alert, but still glazed over, like a knife frozen inside a block of ice. With his back against Xiao-hai’s chest, he backpedaled until he pinned him up against a wall, swinging his stick-sword in a wide defensive arc. Xiao-hai cringed as the resulting blast of spiritual energy went flying, crashing through some unlucky house’s front gate and splintering the whole thing in two.
“Wang-xiong!” Xiao-hai half shouted, half sobbed. It wasn’t his fault…but still! This idiot was going to wreak absolute havoc!
“Don…don’t worry Xiao-hai…” he panted, trying to shake away the fog inside his head. “I’m here. Nothing can touch you.”
Xiao-hai’s heart lurched. Even though this situation was ridiculous, he still keenly felt Wang Lu’s desire to protect him. But here, it sounded much more earnest than usual. Wang Lu always said things like that from the very beginning. At first, Xiao-hai thought it was because he thought it funny to fluster him. Making a joke of flirting, or of their differing ability levels. Then he started to think maybe it was just for the sake of Wang Lu’s own ego, a way to show off his capability. But the more he saw it, the more he felt its sincerity. Xiao-hai’s mind flicked back to their training days, the first time he’d agreed to go down the mountain with Wang Lu, who noticed that he was hesitant and unsure. He had looked him straight in the eyes and said, “I’ll protect you.” Even though at the time Wang Lu didn’t know the extent of the danger chasing Hai Yunfan, it still comforted him. Hai Yunfan had sensed it keenly, then. Sincerity. Hidden beneath humor: the only vehicle Wang Lu could use to deliver it.
And then he walked away and the hem of his sleeve had brushed Xiao-hai’s face and—
“Ahh, no, no, no! That’s enough! Stop!” he panicked, his hands grasping at Wang Lu’s back.
Wang Lu swiped at the air wildly, his other arm reaching back to shield Hai Yunfan. “Fuck off! You think you can hurt Xiao-hai while I’m alive? Hmph… Even if you’re lucky enough to lay one finger on him, what I’ll do to you will make wish you’d cut that finger off first!”
Hai Yunfan checked himself before he wasted any more effort or time. He wasn’t going to get through to him by acting so anxious; that would only play into Wang Lu’s delusion. He needed to calm him down. He took a breath and lowered his voice, keeping it very soft and calm. “Wang-xiong. Everything is fine,” he soothed. “Listen to me. You’re hallucinating. No one is here.”
“Wh…but you’re—”
“I’m fine. The both of us are safe. No one is trying to harm us. You can’t trust your eyes right now, but you can always trust me. There’s nothing there.”
Wang Lu slowly swept his gaze over the street, his body tense as a taught wire. Hi Yunfan, hands on his shoulders, could feel the frantic beating of Wang Lu’s heart through that contact. It was like laying his hands on a buzzing wasp’s hive. He suddenly felt guilt for his annoyance before. He could tell Wang Lu was confused and scared; in his mind, the danger was very real, and Xiao-hai could only guess what manifested nightmares he was seeing.
“Alright…everything is fine now. Let’s go back. You’re still sick; you’ll make it worse by running around in the cold. Let’s go back, Wang-xiong. Mm? Let’s go.”
Slowly, Wang Lu came around, the sword-stick dropping gradually lower until he finally just tossed it to the ground. He groaned a bit and covered his eyes with his hand, his body slumping against Xiao-hai, who supported him from behind. “Xiao-hai…” he muttered, pleading, stressed. The sound of it could break a heart.
Then, at the worst possible time, a door opened somewhere across the street.
Wang Lu’s guard shot back up as the voice of a distraught man rose above the quiet night. Hai Yunfan quickly gathered what happened; the owner of that unfortunate house had come to investigate the loud noise and found his front gate splintered into pieces.
“Wang-xiong, it’s still not really a threat, but that one is a real person. You’ve broken his gate, so let’s hide first. Quickly.”
Wang Lu needed no further prompting. He turned around and nudged Xiao-hai to run. They did. Around a few street corners, they made their escape and quickly left the shouting voice of that very unlucky man in the distance. Hai Yunfan made a plan to secretly leave a sum of reparation money on that man’s doorstep some time.
When they were some distance away, Hai Yunfan stopped, breathless. He turned around to make sure that Wang Lu was still with him.
He wasn’t.
“…Wang-xiong?”
Hai Yunfan spun in circles, eyes darting all over the street. The residential area was deserted, and not even a footstep could be heard.
“Wang-xiong!”
He began to panic. How could he have lost him again? He should have been holding on to him while running! Was he really so afraid of grabbing Wang Lu’s hand!?
"Two little tigers, run very fast…”
Gasping, Hai Yunfan spun in the direction of the voice. Slurred and singsong, it echoed around the empty street, but couldn’t be pinpointed. He didn’t see anyone.
“Wang Lu? Where are you?”
Wang Lu’s voice only kept singing, “One has no eyes, one has no tail. Very weird…very weird! Hahahaha!”
Finally, he got the sense to look upward. Hai Yunfan was pretty sure all the blood in his body froze in place. Up on top of a nearby roof, teetering along the edge as he attempted to balance on the gutter, was Wang Lu. Singing like a child, not a care in the world. He was thirty feet above the ground.
“Wang Lu! Stop right there! It’s so dangerous…come down! Wait—no, just stay there. I’ll come get you. Wait there, sit down!”
Normally, this would be absolutely no problem for Wang Lu. But in his condition, he was even less capable of keeping his balance than an ordinary person. He still hadhis training and cultivation, but there was no telling if and when he could make use of them. If he fell, Xiao-hai had no idea if he would be able to catch himself.
“Ah! My other tiger!” Wang Lu beamed, waving his arm high over his head as he caught sight of Xiao-hai. Waving seemed to move his whole body along with his arm, and right before Xiao-hai’s eyes, Wang Lu began to lose his balance.
“Wang-xiong!”
He leaned forward, then back—it would be comical if not for the danger. Hai Yunfan ran forward, placing himself right below Wang Lu. He formed a hand sign with two fingers extended, concentrated, then pointed it at him as he released a concentrated line of spiritual energy. Butterflies accompanied it, swirling up into the air to batter themselves against Wang Lu’s chest.
The impact was not harsh, he hoped, but it was enough to knock him away from the edge. Losing his feet, Wang Lu landed on his back on the sloped roof of the house, laughing breathlessly. As if he’d just had an immeasurable amount of fun.
Meanwhile, Hai Yunfan’s heart was about to turn in its resignation slip and walk right out of his chest. He put his hand against the wall of the house and leaned his forehead against it, wheezing with a mixture of relief and rage. These crazy mood swings—were these really all a product of the cold medicine, or was it just Wang Lu amusing himself by trying to give Xiao-hai an aneurism? …He could taste blood in his mouth.
Wang Lu had no such anxiety. He relaxed right where he’d fallen, propped his arm on his knee, and pointed down at him. “Oi, Xiao-hai. Come up here.”
“…What.”
“You come here. Bring my shoe.” Sure enough, Hai Yunfan had not dropped the shoe this whole time.
From the ground below, Xiao-hai gave him a glare that asked if he was insane. Wang Lu clicked his tongue and sent down a look that asked if he was seriously going to say no?
…He hated how Wang Lu could make him do anything. And without even a word, this time!
It was easy enough to leap up onto the eave of the house; Xiao-hai’s rabbit-like step did not even free one piece of straw from the thatching, which to his delight seemed to annoy Wang Lu. He walked lightly along the gutter until he came to stand beside Wang Lu, shaking his head as the other grinned smugly up at him.
“Yes?”
“Sit down.”
“…On the roof.”
“Sit on the roof Xiao-hai, with me, yes.”
“I am here to take you down from the roof, Wang-xiong. What if you crash through someone’s bedroom ceiling?”
“Then I’ll be in bed and you’ll stop nagging me. Oh, come on, just for a minute! I want to talk to you about something.”
“Talk?” Xia-hai scoffed. “That’s the last thing I should allow you to do.”
“Xiao-hai. Don’t make fun of me now, I’m really trying to be honest. Do you know, I mastered the art of sincerity for you. I was a total novice, but I learned it in one night just because you wouldn’t talk to me. Are you going to let my efforts go to waste?”
Hai Yunfan learned his lesson that day. He would not be falling for that again. “You—!”
Wang Lu cringed away, his hands up to protect himself. “Ayy, Xiao-hai, don’t—I promise! Look, just listen to me—I really have something serious this time!”
Xiao-hai relented, holding back his battering fists. “Fine, then. We’ll make a deal. I’ll talk to you about whatever you want, but only if we go back to your room first.”
“Xiao-haiiii,” Wang Lu groaned, rolling his head along his neck. “When will you remember that everything I do is for a strategic reason? Obviously I can’t talk about it there.”
That made him pause. He looked at Wang Lu carefully, and only then was Xiao-hai convinced that what he was about to say could be taken seriously. Wang Lu could only be this uncomfortable when he had to face up to emotional matters. Fine. They were already having the most ridiculous night, might as well sit on some stranger’s roof at four in the morning for a chat.
Seeing that Xiao-hai was about to sit down, Wang Lu quickly used his sleeve to beat the dirt away from that spot.
“Alright,” Hai Yunfan said, voice softening. “What is it, Wang-xiong?”
Wang Lu looked like he was about to try to begin. But then he huffed a sigh and stuck out his leg, propping his foot on Xiao-hai’s thigh. “Give my shoe back first.”
Hai Yunfan held it out to him, but Wang Lu seemed to ignore the gesture. He kept his foot firmly in place as he pretended to watch stars. “C’mon, Xiao-hai, it’s cold,” he muttered, not looking over.
Hai Yunfan did not have the energy or time to make this into a thing. He lifted Wang Lu’s heel and deftly slipped the shoe over the sloped arch of his foot. Wang Lu was trembling a bit; it really must be cold. Absorbed in the task, he didn’t notice Wang Lu staring at him from the corner of his eye.
As soon as he was done, he made a display about lifting Wang Lu’s now-covered foot, moving it back out of his space, and dropping it. “There. Can you focus now?”
“Mm.” But he didn’t say anything right away. Staring unfocused out into the starless night, Wang Lu’s eyes got redder and redder but he didn’t say a word. He warred with indecision, it seemed, wavering on the edge of something. Finally, he screwed his eyes shut and held his forehead in his thumb and forefinger. “What if. If I decided... not to pursue cultivating anymore?”
Xiao-hai could not have been more stunned had a bolt of lightning come down and struck him. Neither of them spoke. Wang Lu didn’t open his eyes, and Hai Yunfan’s face slowly grew unreadable. He just stared out ahead, into black air.
“This is what your mother spoke to you about.”
Wang Lu hummed a miserable noise of affirmation. “I guess she got scared by this whole…thing. Until now, she never really faced the fact that cultivating mean a life of constant dangers even worse than that stupid sword of truth. She wants me to…get married. I mean. She’s already arranged a marriage. It’s not a question. I bet she’ll order me to do it as soon as she knows I woke up.”
“…How are you going to tell her no?”
Wang Lu’s expression grew pained, apprehensive. “Xiao-hai…”
“…”
“Tell her no… Hmph.” He dropped his cheek into his hand, frustration dulled by his sense of helplessness. “How could I?”
A wave of fear-driven rage made him leap to his feet. “Wang Lu!”
Hai Yunfan watched that stone visage return to Wang Lu’s face, the mask he wore in order to endure situations where there was no way out. Act like it wasn’t happening. Yes, he knew Xiao-hai was furious, but there was just nothing to be done about it. The situation would not change.
But Hai Yunfan could not accept that. The wild animal of his heart was backed into a corner by a wicked spear and he was not going to let it be skewered so easily.
“You can’t possibly be considering it! Wang-xiong—are you serious? Everything you’ve worked for, everything we—a-and what about the people relying on you now? You’re not the only one this decision affects. What about this team? What about m—"
Wang Lu put his face in his hands and groaned, frustrated and loud. Then, to Xiao-hai’s horror, Wang Lu let out a sob. It didn’t sound like an act. “I don’t know what to tell any of you. I don’t know! Xiao-hai. Really. What do I do?”
At that sight and sound, much of Xiao-hai’s anger pathetically dissolved into thin air. He had never seen Wang Lu like this. In fact, it was unthinkable. Surely the medicine and fever must be affecting him greatly, because a sober Wang Lu would die before he ever said those words. Hai Yunfan was stricken, but less by the shock of hearing this, and more so by a sudden and desperate sympathy. He wanted to hold on to his indignation, but it slipped out of his hands like a ribbon of silk. It did break his heart to see Wang Lu hurt.
He sat back down calmly, controlling his movements carefully. “…What do you want to do?” He asked. It was strategic. He knew that Wang Lu must still want to continue cultivation—otherwise why would the choice torture him so? If he really wanted to give this all up and have a domestic life, he wouldn’t have to ask what do to. Xiao-hai knew him better than that. He would never be content with giving up like that. Wang Lu would never leave something unfinished. Hai Yunfan just needed to remind him of that.
“Didn’t I just say? I don’t know. That’s the problem.” Wang Lu dropped his hands, revealing dry cheeks and tired eyes. “Maybe it doesn’t matter. There’s no way I can tell my mother no.”
Xiao-hai clutched his chest. He couldn’t let this happen. Absolutely not. It was unthinkable for Wang Lu to leave the path of cultivation, to leave him. "But, you…what about everything you’ve done to get here? Your master’s work. What about—” He stopped himself. He was working hard to keep his temper from flaring, but he felt so cagey. Of course Wang Lu had considered all these things. It wasn’t like he was forgetting. There was nothing he could shout at him that Wang Lu hadn’t already thought of.
Xiao-hai sighed, mostly to calm himself down. He didn’t want to lash out. “Wang-xiong…I just. I think it would be such a shame. A waste. To let your talent vanish into an ordinary life.”
Wang Lu laughed, but it was full of sarcasm and bitterness. “Talent.”
Xiao-hai was stunned. “Do…you not agree?”
“Yes, yes, of course I do. Who are you asking? I’m so talented. I’m a genius. It would be such a shame to be anything less than number one. I won’t be able to live if I’m not the best.”
These were all things Wang Lu had said before, but now they felt brittle and dry. Now it seemed like the words weren’t his. Maybe they were never his to begin with. It occurred to Xiao-hai that maybe all these things Wang Lu hid behind were parroted from people who, all his life, made him think that he must never be less than perfect. And people who, in the same breath, wouldn’t hesitate to call him prideful for the very values they instilled in him. Hai Yunfan…could well understand that.
“I think…that Wang-xiong is not the type to let anyone else decide his path. And I think that you know which path you want. I’m sure your parents know that about you, too. They will understand if you explain that you just can’t accept their wishes.”
“What if I can? Ah?” Wang Lu was suddenly frustrated, striking out with his voice. “What if I want to follow their wishes? Is that so wrong?”
“You—how can you?! Of course it’s wrong!”
“It’s wrong for me to not want my mother to suffer? Xiao-hai…” he huffed a sigh, rubbing his forehead. “Do I have to wait until my parents are gone to wish I’d spent more time with them? Shouldn’t I choose to live happily with them while I can?”
To this, Hai Yunfan could not retort. He was certainly in no position to give advice in this regard. If his parents were still alive, would he choose differently? No; if his parents were still alive, he’d not need to make that choice, because he’d never have come to the sect at all. If this was different, this would be, and so on. It was useless to think of what-ifs.
“I have never had the luxury of such a choice. I’m not the person to ask. I’m sorry.”
“…Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have asked that; you don’t need to answer. Anyway if the answer was so easy, I’d have it already.” Wang Lu leaned back against the wall, tilting his head back as he rubbed his eyes. “Maybe…I’ve never tried to answer it. I started cultivating because I couldn’t. I had no idea what to do with myself. Did I ever tell you this story? How I decided I’d go to the conference?”
“You said it was to spite what your master said: that you didn’t have the potential to cultivate.”
“That’s only part of it.”
Xiao-hai had suspected as much. There was never really a good way to tell when Wang Lu was giving only half answers, but at least the parts he did tell were just as true as what he withheld.
“Then, what’s the other part?”
“When she told me that, I was shooting trophies.”
“Shooting...?”
“Awards I’d won over the years. I made Wang Zhong throw them into the air, then I shot them with a crossbow. I had so many; what did I care to destroy some?”
“…” Hai Yunfan had to remind himself that now was not the time to get annoyed. But who wouldn’t be annoyed by a man complaining about having won too many trophies?! Xiao-hai spent his whole life trying to measure up to those around him, and at that exact same time, Wang Lu was cruising through life without even needing to try.
Wang Lu cast him a humorless grin and rolled his eyes. “Don’t look so jealous. It wasn’t anything worth wanting.”
Xiao-hai cleared his throat and made a note to hide his facial expressions more carefully.
“I won so many, they were useless. What could they do? People kept telling me…ahh, such a good son, so talented… It made my parents happy. Back then, that was enough to please them. I had good grades and I made sure I won at whatever I tried…but what could any of that do for my future? It’s like my void root. I can have the best grades on the mountain—who cares if I can’t learn any spells? It’s still all useless.”
Boldened by the thought that Wang Lu would likely not remember anything that happened tonight, Hai Yunfan reached out and placed a hand on his back. He was careful not to press hard enough to catch Wang Lu’s attention, to get it shrugged away. “Wang-xiong…the determination to succeed in whatever you do can hardly be called useless.”
Wang Lu winced. “I know that. It’s an arrogant thing to complain about. But Xiao-hai, I really couldn’t do anything. It was me who was useless. My parents kept saying that their efforts in raising me would really pay off in the future… but how am I supposed to make that happen? I could have picked any job, but all of them sounded awful. I had no idea where to go and in the end I didn’t decide anything.”
Hai Yunfan couldn’t help but compare that experience to his own. He was just the opposite. His path was decided for him the whole way, and all he needed to do was make sure his ability could match up to it. Wang Lu had an abundance of ability, but no direction. Hai Yunfan struggled to decide which was more difficult. But, well. It didn’t matter, really. Each had their own struggles, each were different. But at least now, finally, he understood Wang Lu’s a bit more.
Wang Lu scoffed again, laughing to himself. “A waste of what? Xiao-hai, don’t you understand? Whether I cultivate or sell radishes on the street, nothing will be wasted. I didn’t decide to cultivate because it would make good use of my life. I did it because I couldn’t figure out anything else to do. I did it to play around, and run wild. I’m just running.”
A creeping sense of unease was building in Hai Yunfan, wondering if Wang Lu really didn’t value this path as much as he’d thought. But thinking back on it…no, he wasn’t wrong. He knew that Wang Lu took cultivation seriously—and enjoyed it. The fact that it started because he had no direction didn’t matter. Once Wang Lu had decided on it, he would absolutely see it through with everything he had.
“That may have been how you chose this path. But once you began, you put everything into it. I know you’re this way. Whatever you do, you do it to the full extent of your ability. Whether…”
“Cultivation or radish selling. It’s all the same.”
“…You got so much money from him, though.”
“Chk—!” In a strong and sudden mood swing, Wang Lu burst out in delirious giggles, his cheeks going red as he tried to hold in his laughter. “Ahh, Xiao-hai! His face, his face!” He nearly laughed himself right off the roof and Hai Yunfan had to snatch him back to safety. Wang Lu didn’t even notice. “I have never seen someone so oblivious!”
Struggling to keep Wang Lu from rolling right off the edge, Xiao-hai groaned, “I know the feeling…”
Wang Lu, still laughing, completely gave up on sitting upright. And since Xiao-hai was still pulling him back, the sudden lapse in resistance was so unexpected that he pulled him off balance in the other direction. Before he had time to correct, Wang Lu had collapsed into his lap.
Hai Yunfan’s hands flew upward and froze in the air. Every muscle in his body may as well have been made of stone.
His head pillowed on Xiao-hai’s crossed legs, Wang Lu’s eyes widened as he grinned, mouth gaping. “Ah?! Xiao-hai…I had no idea you were so forward. I’m engaged, you know. How scandalous.”
“Yo-you’re the one who—”
“Mmm, but a little scandal is alright. This is quite comfortable. Maybe I’ll take a nap here. Ah—I see! You wanted me to go back to sleep, didn’t you? Is this the only way you could think of to make me do it? Mm, very clever, Xiao-hai. Alright, I’ll let your scheme work out just this once.”
Wang Lu closed his eyes, relaxing with a contented sigh. Hai Yunfan was paralyzed. It felt like his lungs were each the size of a tangerine. Tiny, shriveled tangerines.
“Wang-xiong…” he choked out. “You’ve…taken the wrong lessons from your master.”
Other than to scoff out a dry laugh, Wang Lu ignored that comment. Shuffling himself into a more comfortable position, he nestled down into Xiao-hai’s lap like it was his own bed. He opened his eyes to look up, and then snorted a laugh.
“What, are you getting robbed? Under arrest?”
Xiao-hai had no idea what to do with his hands, so they were still held up beside his head, like he really was getting mugged. He glared, slowly lowering his hands and placing them each palm-down on the roof, far away from Wang Lu.
“Why do you even want to stay in this position?” he asked, exasperated. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m getting used to my future,” Wang Lu grumbled, a grimace returning to his features as he ruefully tore a piece of straw from the roof and threw it somewhere. “I’ll be doing this with Xiaolan for the rest of my life, I guess.”
Hai Yunfan gritted his teeth. So that’s the match Wang Lu’s mother had picked out for him. Alright, then…he would approach the matter from this angle. “What do you think of her?” he asked. He didn’t really care, he told himself; he was only trying to make Wang Lu admit that he didn’t really want to marry the girl. Of course he would have no reason to actually want to know what Wang Lu thought about his potential match in marriage.
Wang Lu’s face soured. “What’s there to say? She’s the ideal wife. She’s beautiful, dependable, and kind-hearted, and doesn’t have any of her own opinions. She cooks and cleans and wants children. She’s perfect in every way.”
“…”
“I hate her.”
Xiao-hai’s eyes went wide with hope and he turned them on Wang Lu. “You…really?”
Wang Lu tsk’d, pulling a wince. “Ah, no, I don’t hate her. As a person. It’s just, I really don’t want to marry her at all! She’s everything a groom looks for, fine! Let a groom have her. I don’t need someone to be my servant, agreeing with me no matter what and having no ambitions. She’s so agreeable and can’t cause a scene. The one I fall in love with…wouldn’t be like that.”
…Don’t. There’s no point. Don’t ask it.
But…if asking would convince Wang Lu of what he already knows—convince him that this is the wrong choice…
“If, ah…if you were to choose, then. What would they be like?”
Wang Lu’s entire presence relaxed into dreamy peace and a light smile. He closed his eyes with a long sigh, head tilted back, and one could swear he was feeling warmth from the moonlight. “Jade.”
But Wang Lu had muttered the word so slurred and quiet that Hai Yunfan hadn’t been able to make out what he said. “Pardon?”
Wang Lu opened his eyes and held up his pointer finger. “First! They should be able to stand at my side. I can rely on them. No matter what, they understand me, and we know how to help each other the best.”
His hand waved in typical lecturing gestures, pointed finger, thumbs-up. It was funny to watch those familiar motions so overswept and clumsy.
“But we can’t be too alike! They have something I don’t. They can see what I overlook, and I do the same for them, and we can both move each other forward. They’re very smart…they can master so many technical skills unbelievably fast. They impress me. They make me jealous.”
This would have been a place where Xiao-hai made an incredulous remark—how could Wang Lu ever admit to feeling the likes of jealousy—but he felt suddenly that his tongue was made of cotton and couldn’t say anything.
“As for looks…I always thought that didn’t matter, as long as all the other stuff was true. But. It would be nice if they were good-looking. A fair face, strong brow. Of course they have large lips. And long hair that never tangles or gets waves. It’s black. But they don’t like to wear black, or dark colors at all. They’re always wearing layers and layers of fabric that gets caught in the slightest wind. Their sleeves reach all the way to the ground. They hate when they get dirty, but they still won’t make them shorter.”
Before he could catch himself, Xiao-hai checked the hem of his sleeves. When Wang Lu noticed, he quickly stopped himself and pretended to be stargazing.
"My love...will be the fairest, and the smartest, and the most outstanding. Only the highest caliber is worthy of Wang Lu. My love is as pretty as a trophy, but as vital and mighty as a sword. My love is a beauty and a warrior and a scholar unparalleled in all the nine continents, the envy of the heavens!"
Xiao-hai could find no answer as Wang Lu's declaration soared on poetic wings, echoing over the sleeping city. The pair fell into silence. The night sky was the tiniest bit less black now, and by listening closely, one could pick out the moment when the first early morning bird woke up.
Looking up from Xiao-hai’s lap, Wang Lu stared at him. He carefully observed the way the dawnlight glowed against the pale white of Hai Yunfan’s upturned face. With something akin to wistfulness, his whole face softened along with his voice as he mused, “Wouldn’t it be easy to fall for someone like that?”
------------
After a great deal of patience and persuasion, Hai Yunfan had managed to coax Wang Lu down from the roof. He could tell Wang Lu was getting less and less coherent. He’d used up what energy he’d managed to gain on fighting invisible people and climbing roofs. Who knows how much he’d worsened his condition with all this exertion. Hai Yunfan really needed to put a stop to this now, stop letting Wang Lu lead him off task and weasel his way into another distraction.
Thankfully, it seemed as though his ability to do so was waning. Not long after solid ground was beneath their feet again, Wang Lu was swaying on his. His movements were slower and less animated, and his breathing more labored. Xiao-hai pressed a hand to his forehead and Wang Lu leaned into it, his unfocused eyes blinking slowly. Predictably, he was starting to get feverwarm.
“Now do you see why I wanted to go back sooner?” Xiao-hai asked patiently, reaching out to hold his upper arm. “Are you alright?”
Wang Lu hummed affirmatively and turned toward him, mouth open to reply. But a reply didn’t come. He looked at Xiao-hai with unfocused eyes and blinked over and over, each blink harder than the last. Finally, his face lifted in shock and he cast his eyes up and down Hai Yunfan’s person.
“Xiao-hai!” he whispered loudly, glancing all around the street. “What happened to your clothes?
For no good reason, Xiao-hai’s cheeks lit up bright red. “My…?”
“You can’t go around like that!” Wang Lu admonished, glancing all around the street as if looking for bystanders. There were none, of course; it was at least four in the morning right now. But Wang Lu still behaved as though being seen by someone was a huge problem they were facing.
“Wang-xiong…I think you may be seeing things again?”
“Forget that! Agh—” Wang Lu made a big deal about looking put-out but still gracious. “Don’t worry, don’t worry. Aiyah. I’ll save you again, Xiao-hai, I always save you. Come here, hide behind me.”
Hide? Did he think there were assassins coming again? But, although Wang Lu looked alarmed, he wasn’t frantic like before. It was more like…embarrassment. What on earth was he seeing right now; what about his clothes?
Wang Lu stepped closer, ushering Xiao-hai into the mouth of a closeby alley. Once there, he shook his head and huffed out a laugh. “Quick, quick. I’ll lend you mine. This is fine, actually; I’ve always looked terrible in white.”
“…Is that so?” Xiao-hai had a hard time believing Wang Lu looked terrible in any color.
“Hn? Why do you sound so skeptical?”
“Y-you’re imagining things. Wang-xiong, let’s go, really this time. Let’s go back.”
Wang Lu evaded his grab with a pivot that inevitably turned into a spin. He skidded to a stop several feet away, hopping as he nearly tripped over his own feet, the move having dizzied him further. He spared Xiao-hai no second glance before, appallingly, horrifyingly, he lifted his hand up to grasp the collar of his white inner robe…and began to pull.
“W-w-wang Lu!” Hai Yunfan lost all his poised mannerisms, his composure under pressure, even his language aptitude. “What—stop? Why! Stop! Instan—th-this instant! You—! You!”
Wang Lu didn’t care to listen anymore and was too focused on stripping. “So terrible. Doesn’t suit me at all.” Tugging off his belt, he flung it into the air in a random direction, and Hai Yunfan didn’t have enough brainspace left to react as the belt landed right on his shoulder.
After an uncoordinated battle between his arms and sleeves, the robe came free. Completely bare from the waist up, Wang Lu held it up like it was a skin he’d cut from a tiger, and grinned at it with a mixture of triumph and admiration. Then, that gaze dulled, going dreamy and distant as he stared at the cloth. He seemed to pay particular attention to the way the night breeze lifted its edges, the way the fabric fluttered and played. Slowly, he turned those strange eyes onto Hai Yunfan. His eyes crawled all along the other’s frozen figure, slinking down his chest and farther.
“White looks better on you,” he said, and took a few lurching steps toward him.
Hai Yunfan, although he was supposed to be chasing after and capturing this idiot, found himself taking steps backward the closer Wang Lu got.
“Wh-where do you plan on doing!? I mean. What do you. Wait there. I mean it, Wang-xiong. Listen to me. Be good and don’t move. Be good!”
Wang Lu, seeing he was losing ground, got a smirk on his face that only appeared whenever he looked at a challenge. He crouched slightly, wobbling on bent knees. Hai Yunfan stopped, because he could tell what was about to happen, and that Wang Lu would fall flat on his face if he didn’t allow his tackle to connect.
“Careful!”
Wang Lu crashed into him, both arms out, head-first into Hai Yiunfan’s chest. He caught him, of course, because if he didn’t Wang Lu would fall, could get hurt. Wang Lu sank into him, and Hai Yunfan stepped back to absorb the impact. He made himself a willow tree, gentle but solid, yielding but firm. He felt Wang Lu’s arms wrap around his back, flinging the garment around him. It settled around his frame like a breeze given shape. Like fog if fog was warm, if it smelled like Wang Lu’s sweat.
Against his chest, Wang Lu sighed. “You’re jade, Xiao-hai. White belongs on you.”
…
Stop…
Xiao-hai’s hands moved slowly, as if they were turning to stone.
It has to stop.
His grip became iron around Wang Lu’s forearms as he began to pull.
“Wang-xiong.” His voice was pure frost.
“H-huh? What’s wrong?”
Please. It must. It must stop now.
As if he were ripping out his own heart, Hai Yunfan pried Wang Lu away from his chest.
Looking closer, Wang Lu’s eyes focused in alarm and concern. “Xiao-hai…?” Wang Lu reached toward Hai Yunfan’s face, but suddenly his wrist was snatched like he’d triggered a snare. Wang Lu ignored it and asked, earnest and worried, “Why are you crying?”
“Stop!”
Suddenly feeling quite small in that dark and vacant alley, Hai Yunfan endured the faint reverberations of his outburst. The following silence made it seem like his every breath was a gale, his heartbeats each a stricken drum. His cry had not come willingly, and did not sound much like a command. It was neither angry nor cold. It was only a need that burst into form. Begging. Desperate. A plea.
Hai Yunfan released his grip on Wang Lu’s hand—rather, he dropped it like a hot coal. Wang Lu stared at him, searching for words. He did his best, anyway. He was in deep fog and clinging to one thread of clarity. He couldn’t come up with anything to say, but felt somehow that he’d done something very wrong.
His movements measured and deliberate, Hai Yunfan removed the white robe from his shoulders and held it out toward Wang Lu. After a moment, clumsy hands grasped it and, while he didn’t put it back on, clutched it tightly to his chest.
“…Ah…hey—” Wang Lu, for once, was lost for words. “Xiao—um. Ha-Hai Yun…fan…” An uncomfortable chill shook him, though it was hard to tell if it came from being bare-chested in the cold night air or from using Hai Yunfan’s full name.
“I’m, uh. Sorry. Sorry…” Awkwardly, he reached out to smooth Xiao-hai’s ruffled clothes, but when the other flinched at his touch, he thought better of it and retracted his fluttering hands.
“Uh...”
Without a word, Xiao-hai pivoted in place and extended his arm in invitation, his head bowed. Wang Lu looked toward where he was indicating—back to the Wang residence.
“A-ah,” he assented, giving Xiao-hai a hundred backward glances as he obediently started walking. Hai Yunfan followed him, but he wouldn’t meet his eyes or speak no matter what.
--------------
The candle had gone dead by the time they made it back to Wang Lu’s room. Getting him through the window without waking the whole household was a feat on its own, let alone doing so in darkness. But somehow, between the two of them, they managed it. While Wang Lu stumbled toward his bed, Hai Yunfan latched the window shut and wished briefly that he had a lock to put on it.
“Ay—!” Wang Lu hissed, staggering as he banged his shin on the corner of the table. “Ah…this damn. Medicine? Poison. You poisoned me. That’s how angry you are at me.”
Xiao-hai said nothing, and Wang Lu fell into the defense mechanism of ignorance. He didn’t acknowledge that he was being given the silent treatment and just kept rambling, filling the empty air with whatever he could.
“You get so angry when you don’t get what you want. I know that’s really why. You can fool the whole world but not Wang Lu. But what I can’t figure out now, is what you’ve been denied? What did you want that you can’t get? It would be so much simpler if you just tell me when things bother you. You’ll never tell me. Xiao-hai Xiao-hai… oh well. I’ll keep thinking. I’ll figure it out.”
Hai Yunfan, in passing and without looking, planted a hand in Wang Lu’s chest and shoved him. The other let out a small outcry as he tripped backward onto his own bed, then stayed there, staring up at the ceiling as his eyes dulled and his head reeled. He let out a long sigh as he listened to Hai Yunfan’s footsteps thudding away.
“Xiao-hai.” His voice was deadened, colored by the sort of sadness that knew it couldn’t be alleviated. “Are you going to leave now?”
Hai Yunfan paused, hand on the open door. His voice was quiet and restrained when he answered, “I think that would be best.”
“…I’m sorry you’re angry. I’ll figure it out; just wait for me. I always prioritize your quest hooks. Whatever you want, I’ll fight through anything to get it and bring it to you. Just wait.”
Wait. Just wait. He could laugh. He could scream. What good would waiting do, when neither of them could ever accept it anyway? This nebulous something they waited for would never arrive—and if it did, it would be the worst day of Hai Yunfan’s life. He couldn’t have what he wanted if it was a thousand miles away, and he couldn’t have it if it was right in front of him. Once Wang Lu “figured it out,” he’d realize just how stupid all his promises had been. Because he was going to leave anyway. Wait? Wait for fucking what!?
Hai Yunfan was surprised at the loud snap that resounded when he violently flung open the door. He looked down to see that he’d put a long crack into the wood of it.
The two of them stared at the broken doorframe, both dumbfounded.
“Xiao-hai!”
“I-I didn’t mean to! Sh. I’ll get it fixed.”
Out of nowhere, Wang Lu burst out into laughter.
“Wang-xiong,” he hissed, then stuck out his head to listen to the hallway, the rooms next door. He didn’t see anything, and hurried to close the door to muffle Wang Lu’s loud voice. “Sh! You’ll wake your parents!”
“You—you’re just like a little kid! Sulking when you don’t get your way, sneaking out at night, breaking things and hiding them! Ahahahah! Xiao-hai is so accurate!”
When Wang Lu wouldn’t shut up, Hai Yunfan tsk’d and rushed over, clapping his hand over his mouth.
The laughter stopped in an instant. Distracted and alert, Hai Yunfan looked toward the door, completely absorbed in the task of listening for any sounds of movement from the rest of the house.
From bed, Wang Lu stared upward through a haze of blurred vision and saw colors magnified, lines smudged, and light softened. In this way he looked at Hai Yunfan. The porcelain sculpt of his face sloped like a snowfield, landscape broken by his bright black eyes. His full lips curved with a bitterness too cold to be called scorn. One black silk lock of hair shaken loose from its tie fell across his proud brow and dusted the knife-edge of his cheek. Even while sighing he was divine, his exhaled breath a sweeter scent than hyacinth. Grace envied him. Beauty had no right to speak his name. Wang Lu’s eyes could not open wide enough to drink that haloed portrait. His ears could not strain enough to capture the breeze of his voice, and his skin would never, never tire of the elegant touch of his hands.
Wang Lu realized that he hadn’t breathed ever since Xiao-hai’s hand touched his face. He wanted to allow this sudden wave of vertigo to sink him below the black waters of sleep. He knew, though, if he lost consciousness with this sight in front of his eyes, Hai Yunfan would be there to greet him in every dream that followed. He could only look, and fight back, and lose.
Finally, when he was satisfied that no one had woken, Hai Yunfan turned back to Wang Lu. It was only then he realized he was still holding his hand over his mouth, and he took it back with a surprised wince. Wang Lu’s shining eyes could only be called starstruck.
Hai Yunfan quickly turned his head away and stared at the wall, pulling at that strand of his hair over and over as he perched on the edge of the bed like a cat ready to leap away at any moment.
A very long time, or perhaps only one heartbeat, passed in such a silence.
“Why do you say that I’m jade.”
The comment was so deadpan that Wang Lu at first couldn’t recognize it was a question.
“Ah?”
Xiao-hai didn’t repeat himself, only waited for Wang Lu to catch up.
“Ah. Well, just, f-forget I said—”
“No. Wang-xiong. I won’t drop this. It’s your turn to be in a difficult position.”
“…”
“I’ll be waiting for the answer. I’ll always be waiting. And it will be your fault. Because this will be our last chance, won't it? If we don't answer it now, it will weigh us down no matter what paths we take from here. Even though we already know which would be the better option...at the very least, we should face the choice. At least we should know we made one.”
There may have been regret or resignation in Hai Yunfan’s demeanor, but there was no sign of relenting. Wang Lu really could believe every word he said. Taken aback, his brow creased in confusion and...trepidation. He was afraid, inexplicably, of this notion that Xiao-hai might accept whatever decision he might make. Why? Wouldn't it be easier if he did? Wang Lu was frustrated and confused. He had never found himself in this predicament. He was always the one watching others get defensive, but now why did he feel like a rabbit staring at a snare?
“Hey, Xiao-hai…when did you get so sharp-edged?" he pouted. "That’s not like jade at all. Maybe it’s not true anymore.”
Hai Yunfan’s eyes flashed, but not with cold. It was bitter amusement. “Maybe it never was.”
“…Agh. This won’t do. I know how stubborn you are. If you’re going to remember this, it will be in the way all the time and we can never get anything done.” Wang Lu sat up, rubbing his forehead with two fingers. “Alright, I’ll tell you why I said it. Then you can stop waiting.”
Xiao-hai stared off at nothing, making no movement or sound.
“…” Wang Lu cleared his throat, picking at a thread in his blanket. He’d never felt so stuck before. Usually, his words sprang to his lips like golden grasshoppers—why were they all hiding now?
“You. Um. Jade is…ah, besides being beautiful, jade is a symbol of culture and elegance. Only people of high caliber can compare. Someone outstanding. You just have that kind of aura. And your manner. It’s…” his voice faltered and the visage of a lecture fell away as he mumbled, “soft.”
“…Soft?”
“Ah, well—I don’t mean to say… Not soft as in weak. Jade is smooth and soft to touch. But it’s also quite strong and hard when it needs to be. If I threw a piece of jade at someone, with the right technique, it could definitely kill them.”
In spite of himself, Hai Yunfan huffed out a laugh.
Encouraged, Wang Lu continued. “So…it’s an accurate comparison. Your appearance is pleasing. You can easily make people become calm. When you’re at ease, your natural state is both inviting and peaceful. But sometimes you’re vicious. Even when you’re vicious, you’re composed and…cold. But I know, even though jade looks cold, if you touch it…it’s actually warm.”
Xiao-hai’s fists clenched on his lap. He began to tremble.
“…Look, that’s why I told you to forget it. Alright, Xiao-hai no more, I’ll go to sleep now. Don’t be angry. I’m just spouting nonsense, see, I’m delirious. It’s the fever, it’s the medicine, it’s you. You make me—” Wang Lu clicked his tongue and winced like he knew he’d made a misstep. He flung up his hands and held a fist to his head. “God damnit. You make me insane. Xiao-hai, you make me fucking stupid. Do you know, I really can’t stand y—”
This time, the tackle came from Hai Yunfan. He led with a palm to Wang Lu’s his chest, easily laying him flat. He then swung his body atop Wang Lu’s, settling down onto him like an alighting moth. His hands immediately pinned Wang Lu’s wrists and dispatched his arms. Most importantly, he countered Wang Lu’s most powerful weapon—his tongue. Hai Yunfan battled it with his own.
He kept his eyes open, full of fondness and frustration, of sharp-edged iron affection. A silent challenge. A gauntlet thrown. And from Wang Lu’s wide and flickering gaze he could see that this challenge was actually enough to intimidate him. Frighten him. Hai Yunfan, however, was not going to allow him to avoid it. Not this time. It was not fair and he would not stand for it. In this moment, he had been driven just far enough. He was just audacious enough, just desperate enough, to reach up his hand and dare touch the sun.
He was sick of waiting.