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“What?”
Yanqing’s voice carries throughout the Seat of Divine Foresight, causing several to glance over in alarm. Qingzu levels him with a glare, at which Yanqing flushes.
“S-sorry,” he mumbles, the tips of his ears burning. He knows better than to cause a ruckus in a space like this. How humiliating. His one saving grace is that the General wasn’t here to witness it.
“What’s with you?” Qingzu asks, half scolding and half alarmed. “Did the story really surprise you that much?”
“Is—is it true?” Yanqing can’t stop thinking about it—the image of Snowmoon, old and battered, falling asleep in Jing Yuan’s arms for the last time…it haunts him, with a feeling he can’t define causing his heart to plummet like a stone. “Why didn’t he ever tell me?”
Qingzu, much to his frustration, only shrugs. “Maybe it’s true, maybe it isn’t. Who’s to say?”
“You—”
She could be pulling his leg. As reliable as Qingzu is, Yanqing is well-aware of her penchant for spinning tall tales (Stelle still texts him about whether or not his ears are okay). He’s not stupid enough to take everything he hears at face-value. But, at the same time…he swears he once saw an epitaph on one of the stone lions outside with a similar name…
“Besides,” she says, waving a hand, “Jing Yuan doesn’t tell you everything, right? I’m pretty sure you two haven’t spoken at all ever since the Ambrosial Arbor incident.”
“That’s—” Yanqing’s cheeks are burning now. He swallows. “We just…had a small disagreement.”
They still haven’t spoken about Yanqing’s fight with the Stellaron Hunters and Imbibitor Lunae. It still stings, thinking about how Jing Yuan had just brushed his efforts aside, then went off to Scalegorge Waterscape without bothering to explain anything to Yanqing, much less acknowledge him at all. To be cast aside as nothing, and in favor of a Xianzhou traitor, no less.
Yes, he feels a little guilty for only visiting Jing Yuan in the medical ward when he knew Jing Yuan wasn’t awake, and yes, he knows he can’t avoid their upcoming training session…but he’d much rather deal with all of that when he has to, and no sooner than that.
But, now that he thinks about it…the General had looked at Blade and Imbibitor Lunae rather strangely. Yanqing has seen his smile more times than he can count, light and serene and somewhat smug at times. But the General’s smile that day…fell strangely flat. As if it was disguising. And the look in his eyes…like two bottomless pits, dark and despairing and aching…
He looked…he looked…
“Qingzu,” Yanqing says, hesitantly. “Is the General…lonely?"
“Lonely?”
Qingzu purses her lips, then smiles, without a trace of mirth.
“I think,” she says, quiet and solemn, “the General has the loneliest position on the entire Luofu.”
…Yanqing isn’t sure why hearing her say that is so disheartening.
“But…he has all of you, doesn’t he?” He thinks he’s starting to sound a little frantic. Why is that? “And the Master Diviner. And—and he has me! He’s not alone!”
“You don’t have to be alone to feel lonely, y’know.” Qingzu says it nonchalantly, but it feels like a slap in the face. “And anyway, everyone you listed serves him in some way, right? The last time he had friends that were of equal standing with him, that he could rely on just as much as they could rely on him…well. You’ve heard the stories of the High-Cloud Quintet, haven’t you?”
The famed five heroes, the most famous legend in a nation where legends aren’t needed…once equated to the sun and moons and stars. Jing Yuan never speaks of his days back when he was in the Quintet, so all Yanqing knows is from the same bits and pieces everyone else was left with. The one who died, the two that disappeared, the one that betrayed everything the Xianzhou stood for…and the one who remained.
Distantly, he hears Qingzu let out a small sigh.
“I suppose someone like him has gotten too used to being left behind.”
---
Yanqing can’t stop thinking about it all.
His thoughts are plagued with a mess of memories and stories, of Snowmoon’s tale and the stone lions everywhere and the High-Cloud Quintet and Qingzu’s words and everything else in between. It drives him crazy. It distracts him to the point that it’s begun to show in his sword-training, where his sparring partner had asked him if he was feeling alright.
Maybe this is why the General insists on calling him a kid. He feels so dumb. So immature. For not having noticed what the General’s been going through all this time. For letting his stupid emotions get the best of him again.
He wants to apologize. He should apologize. But now that he’s avoided Jing Yuan for so long, how in the world is he supposed to approach him?
Even now, walking down the darkened Sanctum streets, he’s too distressed about his quickly approaching training session with Jing Yuan to really pay attention to his surroundings. Which, yes, is careless of him, but he has to face Jing Yuan in less than 48 hours, and he has no idea what he’s going to do.
Would it be more awkward to say something? Would it be more awkward to say nothing? Yanqing shakes his head, absentmindedly flicking his bangs out of his eyes. What would I even say anyway? Maybe I shouldn’t go at all…no, he’d definitely hunt me down. Would he? Or maybe he won’t care? Maybe he doesn’t actually want to see me and I should just save myself the trouble—
“Mrow?”
Yanqing freezes in his tracks, his train of thought crashing to a halt.
Slowly, he turns, to see something small and white and fluffy poking out of the alleyway to his right.
Yanqing blinks at it. It blinks back at him.
…Huh.
A wild, borderline outlandish idea begins to form in his head.
---
“Yanqing?” The door to Jing Yuan’s home swings open, only moments after Yanqing has knocked and announced his presence. “It’s late. Are you al—”
The General stops, mid-sentence, as soon as he meets the aquamarine eyes of the ball of fluff in Yanqing’s arms.
“Er.” Jing Yuan stares. Yanqing almost laughs at how baffled he seems. He doesn’t think he’s ever been able to catch Jing Yuan so off-guard like this. “Why did you…?”
“It’s a long story. Can we come in first?”
Jing Yuan steps aside, and it doesn’t take long for all three of them to settle in Jing Yuan’s living room, forgoing the plush fancy seats to sit on the floor. The kitten—a female one, according to Qingzu—is peering curiously at her surroundings, but mostly keeps her attention on Jing Yuan, who only continues to look at her with the utmost confusion.
Eventually, Jing Yuan snorts. “You know,” he says to Yanqing, “I was expecting to have to seek you out myself to continue your training. And yet, here you are, a day early…with a new friend.”
His attention is pulled away by the kitten again, who has shuffled closer. She sniffs at him. When Jing Yuan reaches a hand out, she noses at his fingers, before headbutting his palm.
Yanqing grins, tickled by the sight of Jing Yuan’s huge hand nearly covering the kitten’s entire body. “I think she likes you.”
“Does she now?” he says, amused. To the kitten, he says, “What say you to this?”
“Mrow?”
“Is that so?” He strokes her head with his index finger.
“Mrow.”
Jing Yuan looks up, as the kitten nuzzles her head further into his hand. “She’s got quite the mouth, hasn’t she?”
Yanqing resists the urge to ask if he can actually speak to cats. He’s not sure if Jing Yuan would actually give him a serious answer.
“It seems I’ve grown distracted.” Jing Yuan tilts his head. The kitten, noticing this, tilts her own head similarly. “Why did you bring your pet here? I wasn’t even aware you had one.”
Yanqing does his best not to wince. Here it is. The hard part. The moment of truth.
“Actually,” he begins, clasping his hands together, “I only found her last night. She was abandoned. I asked for Qingzu’s help in cleaning her up and checking her over, and we couldn’t find anyone looking for her, so…” The last part of his sentence comes out hurried, all the words tumbling out in a rush. “I was wondering if you wanted to look after her?”
Jing Yuan raises his eyebrows. His hand stills, much to the kitten’s apparent chagrin. “Me?”
“General…I’m…really sorry.”
Yanqing ducks his head, not daring to look at Jing Yuan’s reaction. Aeons, he’s nervous. He doesn’t think he’s been this nervous ever since his first swordfighting tournament. He’s terrible at apologizing, but he can’t mess this up. Not if it’s for Jing Yuan. Not when he’s messed up so much already.
“I was…being immature,” Yanqing says. His heartbeat pounds in his ears, loud and striking like a drum. “You’re my General, and at the end of the day, I’m just someone who works under you. You don’t owe me any answers, and I’m sorry for acting as if you do.”
“Yanqing—”
“A-and—I—” Yanqing bulldozes on, unwilling to lose his momentum. “I also noticed you looked kind of—kind of sad? When you saw those two? Because…they were your friends, right? From the Quintet? Anyway, I…I thought you might’ve been feeling lonely. So, if you want…” He risks a glance at the kitten, catching a glimpse of her white fur. “She can keep you company.”
Jing Yuan is silent for a long while. When the silence only continues to stretch, Yanqing begins to panic.
“O-of course, you don’t have to take her,” he adds hastily. “I know you’re busy, and this would only give you more work to do, but—”
“Yanqing.”
Jing Yuan is quiet, when he cuts Yanqing off, but there’s still a strong gravity to the way he says Yanqing’s name. When Yanqing dares to look at him once more, he almost thinks Jing Yuan seems the same as back when they met Blade and Imbibitor Lunae, except this time there’s no smile, so there’s nowhere for the sadness on his face to hide.
Oh no, Yanqing frets. I’ve made him sad.
But before he can apologize again, Jing Yuan speaks.
“You never owed me an apology in the first place. Really…it should be me apologizing to you.”
Jing Yuan sounds so weary, so exhausted, like a man who’s already given all he has and is left with nothing. Yanqing had never understood before why Jing Yuan insisted on calling himself old, when he was still so strong and capable…but now, seeing Jing Yuan like this, he thinks he’s beginning to understand.
“There was a great deal on my mind, and seeing those two brought an onslaught of emotions I had been doing my best to avoid all this time. All of this, combined with Phantylia, and the Stellaron, and everything else…” He runs a hand down the bottom half of his face while looking off to the side, the way he always does when troubled. “…it distracted me to the point of neglecting you. And for that, I am sorry.”
“D-don’t apologize, General.” He didn’t expect the General to speak to him so gently. To apologize to him, as if he were more than just a subordinate. Yanqing had wished, had hoped…but after that day, he’d been doing his best to stamp all those hopes down. Now, he can feel his hopes fluttering again, butterfly wings brushing against his heart. “I forgive you.”
“I appreciate your forgiveness.” His exhale that follows is light with relief. “And, as for your gift…”
The kitten has resorted to pawing at Jing Yuan’s pant leg, complaints continuing to grow noisier by the second. Jing Yuan chuckles, and scoops her up into his arms in one smooth motion. She quietens immediately, melting into his hold, and closes her eyes.
“If you still wish to give her to me, then I’ll gladly take care of her.”
Jing Yuan smiles at him, so warmly that it takes Yanqing aback.
“Thank you, Yanqing.”
This…is nothing like the crooked half-grin he wears almost by default. It’s the first full, genuine smile Yanqing’s seen from him in a long time. Like the first spark that brings a fireplace to life, the first warm breeze after a long winter. He smiles at Yanqing as if he’d given him the world. Was Jing Yuan’s smile like this all the time, before the currents of time weathered it away?
Seeing him smile like this…it’s like seeing the sun for the first time.
“Of course, General.” He answers with a smile of his own, that turns into a laugh as the kitten begins to purr. “I’m glad you like her.”
---
Jing Yuan names the kitten Yinhe.
He brings Yinhe everywhere.
The people of the Luofu, to their credit, grow accustomed to her presence quickly. Many of them still remember when Jing Yuan would stroll down the streets with a lion at his side (to be fair, the lion wasn’t with him often, but it doesn’t take much for a lion to leave an impression), and almost everyone is already used to the small finches that somehow always find a place on Jing Yuan’s shoulders to perch (although how Jing Yuan is able to attract so many of them still remains one of the Luofu’s biggest mysteries).
So another fluffy creature that has taken to the General’s side? It’s really not a strange sight in the slightest.
Funnily enough, the kitten also accompanies him to the Seat of Divine Foresight, as well as to other official meetings and appointments, when most would expect Jing Yuan to just leave her at home. Apparently, Jing Yuan has tried.
“Jing Yuan,” a guard says, halfway through the one day Jing Yuan had decided to keep Yinhe at home, The guard scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Your, uh…cat’s here?”
(According to Qingzu, the conversation that followed after Jing Yuan had discovered Yinhe at the entrance to his office had gone something like this:
“How in the world did you get here, little one?”
“Mrow.”
“You would’ve had to evade the caretaker I hired for you, break out of my locked estate, and somehow traverse and find me all the way here. Have you forgotten how small you are? You could’ve easily been hurt, especially considering how far you had to travel.”
“Mrow.”
“…I take it you also aren’t a fan of being left alone, then?”
“…”
“Mm…alright. Then I won’t do it again. Would you like to sit with me?”)
No one really minds when Yinhe appears, not even the higher-ranking officials. She’s quiet, and is mostly out of sight when curled up on his lap, so oftentimes most forget about her presence entirely. The only time she really raises a fuss is when unfamiliar people try to pet her, but other than that she’s as well-behaved as they come.
(“General, with all due respect, why does your cat keep hissing at me?”
“Ah, it’s most likely because you lied at our last business meeting. She tends to hold a grudge.”
“W-wait, you knew I was—?”)
Despite how quickly she’d taken to Jing Yuan, he finds that it’s actually quite rare for her to take an immediate liking to anyone. While she’s docile enough in the company of others, there is a clear difference in the way she sits quietly while someone like a stranger chances on petting her, and the way she enthusiastically greets and plays around with someone like Yanqing. Not easy to win over, and slow to trust, is how he thinks of her. First meetings with Yinhe are almost always the same, and almost always end with her indifferently returning to whatever she’d been up to before being disturbed.
A notable exception to this rule is, unsurprisingly, none other than—
“General!”
Fu Xuan storms in, a whirlwind of pinks and violets, her glare so mighty it easily magnifies her presence, to the point that it feels like she towers over him despite her small stature. She crosses her arms, a heavy scowl weighing down the ends of her brow.
“You’re not supposed to still be working,” she scolds, bold in a way no one else dares to speak to him. She is, just like the first time they met, a breath of fresh air. “You’re still injured, and you missed your last checkup—do you know they told me to remind you of this? Because you didn’t respond? I have better things to do with my time, Jing Yuan! I’m not wasting it over your carelessness—”
She stops, mid-rant. Jing Yuan blinks in surprise. If he’s learned anything, it’s that it’s near-impossible to stop Fu Xuan once she’s on a roll.
He follows her line of sight, and finds Yinhe, who had hopped up on his desk at some point during her tirade.
Fu Xuan stares the kitten down for a solid ten seconds. Rose gold locks with aquamarine. The whole world stops, as if holding its breath, the silence so thick one could slice it with a blade.
Then, finally, Fu Xuan nods.
“So this is the new cat I’ve been hearing so much about?” she asks.
“Her name is Yinhe,” Jing Yuan supplies helpfully.
“Hmph.” There’s an underlying note of approval in Fu Xuan’s hum. She still hasn’t taken her eyes off the kitten. “You chose well.”
“Well, actually, I didn’t—”
“Yinhe,” she says sharply, like she’s calling her to attention.
Yinhe meows.
“Your owner here is very bad at listening to me,” Fu Xuan tells her, reaching out a hand. “I trust you will watch over him in my stead.”
Yinhe bumps Fu Xuan’s finger with her nose. Fu Xuan scratches under Yinhe’s chin.
Ah, Jing Yuan thinks, as the two simultaneously turn on him, and he is met with two pairs of equally reproachful eyes. Rose gold and aquamarine. Perhaps it was a mistake to let them meet.
---
Yinhe never leaves his side. Except…for some reason, she refuses to step into his garden.
He tries to bring her with him outside sometimes. When she’s in his arms, she’s perfectly fine. But as soon as he sets her down, she makes an immediate beeline back inside.
Considering how well-behaved she is otherwise, Jing Yuan tries not to be too concerned about this one particular matter. The only other times she kicks up a fuss is whenever he draws a bath for her, and even then she is easily settled when Jing Yuan holds her. He should be grateful that Yinhe is so easy to take care of.
But, as much as he tries not to, he really can’t stop thinking about it.
She has no issue going outdoors. That much is obvious. So what is it about his garden that makes it so different compared to going outside normally?
Is it the flowers? Unlikely. He keeps some of the flowers indoors for decoration, and she seems to rather enjoy sniffing at them and poking at their petals.
Is it the finches? Also unlikely. He had been worried at first that they wouldn’t get along, but the first time one of the finches came around, it had perched directly on Yinhe’s head, and Yinhe had spent her following nap snuggled with many of her new feathered friends. He’s fairly certain Qingzu had taken several dozen photos of that single moment.
He continues contemplating without much luck, until one day, after he tries to bring her on a trip to the docks and she all but leaps out of his hold…it all clicks.
“Yinhe,” he says, once they are safely back in his room. She’s taken a seat on his bed, and he doesn’t have the heart to chase her off, so he just resorts to sitting next to her. “Are you afraid of water?"
Yinhe sniffs. Her face scrunches up.
…Hm.
Jing Yuan can’t help it. He laughs.
“I’m not laughing at you,” he says, when Yinhe’s head snaps up to glare at him. “I was just thinking…you’re just like me.”
“Mrow?”
“I used to be afraid of the water as well.” Jing Yuan rests one hand over her fur, gazing out the window. The sunlight sparkles over the currents of his garden’s waterfall—the same one that has made Yinhe so afraid of stepping foot in that very garden. Light scatters across the mist that sprays as the water flows downwards. “To be more specific, I was afraid of drowning.”
“Didn’t you say you wanted to be a Galaxy Ranger?” Yingxing said, the day he’d found out. “What kind of explorer is afraid of uncharted waters?” Then, after Jing Yuan had explained further, he added, “You don’t have to be scared of that. Dan Feng can control the waters, remember?”
“We rarely fight on water anyway,” Jingliu said. She rarely smiled, but her gaze felt comforting as she met his eyes. “Of course, it would be better if you learned how to swim…”
“Conquering a phobia is difficult.” Here, a hand ruffled his hair, and Jing Yuan blinked up at Dan Feng, who had just joined them. “It will take time. Don’t worry. I would never let any of you drown.”
After all these years, most of his memories are no longer very clear, but he clings to those of his High-Cloud Quintet days with a fierce stubbornness. The happier days, when he could pretend they were all Galaxy Rangers serving justice throughout the cosmos. When he could revel in Jingliu’s praise after a successful training, and laugh at Baiheng’s jokes, and bicker with Yingxing, and hold Dan Feng’s hand…
…It’s odd, how his happiest memories can also make him feel so sad.
“Even the thought of entering the water was paralyzing,” Jing Yuan recalls. Outside the window, three finches flit by, their chirps intermingling with the sound of the rushing currents to create a lovely song. “So I never learned how to swim. And then, one of our battles happened to bring us near a vast ocean…”
Thundering waves. Screaming. Monsters and fighter pilots zipping through the skies, fire raining down only to be swallowed up by the ever-churning waters.
“It was a rough fight. Almost a losing one. And in the midst of it…I spotted someone in danger.”
Dan Feng, so focused on fending off the enemies around him, that he didn’t notice the blade soaring towards him. Jing Yuan, more terrified than he’s ever been in his life, rushing forward, yelling Dan Feng’s name in desperation.
It had all happened so quickly.
One moment, Jing Yuan was there, shoving Dan Feng out of the way. The next, a sharp pain burst in Jing Yuan’s shoulder, as the weapon caught him instead, sending him flying backwards, and he was falling, falling, until his body crashed into the freezing ocean waters.
“…It was the first time I’d ever been submerged in water.” He can almost feel it, even now—the cold seeping down to his bones, the air getting knocked out of his lungs, the light fading as he sank, further and further… “It was every bit as terrifying as I’d always imagined.”
He forgets how easy it is to get lost in a memory. He had closed his eyes at some point, and all that plays behind his eyelids is that very day, as everything was lost into the blue. Yinhe’s presence is the only thing anchoring him to the present, her fur warm and soft under his fingertips.
“I don’t remember much of what happened, after I entered the water. I remember the water filling my lungs, and losing the strength to continue my struggle towards the surface…and then I must have blacked out. When I awoke again…I was back on land.”
Cold. It was still so cold. He coughed up water until his throat felt shredded to pieces, until he could finally take in a clean lungful of air, until he lost all the strength in his body and collapsed onto his back. Too weak to do anything except lay there, chest heaving, still shivering from the cold.
It took him a while to register the voices surrounding him. Everything felt blurry, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the water clinging to his eyelashes or because of his exhaustion or both. But suddenly, there were warm hands cradling his face, and two bright pinpricks of jade burning through the haze.
Dan Feng pulled him into his arms, and the warmth was so nice, so overwhelming, that Jing Yuan had let his eyes slip shut once more…
“Apparently, Dan Feng was furious,” he chuckles. “Yingxing told me he split the seas apart just to search for me. And, after I recovered, they both taught me how to swim. ‘No more taking chances,’ is what he’d said.”
The warmth leaves his grasp. A second later, he feels small paws crawling onto his lap. Jing Yuan opens his eyes, and smiles down at Yinhe.
“Forgive me for blathering.” He gently strokes her fur, and only smiles wider as she begins to purr. Her rumbling is soothing, chasing away the lingering chill on his skin. “All I mean to say is…it’s alright to be afraid. I understand.”
Some will say he successfully overcame his fear of drowning, but in truth, he never did. What he has realized, as his life stretched and stretched over centuries, is that one does not need water to drown. As all his friends and enemies leave his life, and as the paperwork piles on his desk, and as the people’s expectations from him as their general settle over his shoulders, it is all he can do to remain afloat. Everyone from his past that he loved has moved on, and yet here he still is, sinking in the merciless depths of time.
He learned how to swim, thanks to Yingxing and Dan Feng, but he never learned how not to drown. And they are no longer around to teach him.
“You don’t have to worry about the water when I’m around.” Jing Yuan pets behind the kitten’s ears, and she closes her eyes, laying down to rest in the streams of sunlight that pool around her. “I won’t let you drown.”
Someday, you, too, will leave me, he thinks, with a wistful smile. And I will still be here, alone, until the last of me erodes into nothingness. I can only hope I will still be able to remember you fondly among the rest of my loved ones, and that time will submerge me before the mara does.
“I’ll be here for you.”
---
Yanqing learns many things about the General’s cat.
One: she likes chasing butterflies. Ever since Jing Yuan had shut off his garden’s waterfall (Yanqing still isn’t sure why), Yinhe has been spending more time in the garden, especially when it’s sunny outside. She looks curiously at floating petals, and plays with the finches, but the butterflies are what really capture her attention—she runs after them for what feels like hours on end.
(There was one point where a butterfly landed right on her nose, and she had sat there with such a dumbfounded expression that it had sent Yanqing into a fit of laughter. He’d sent the photo to Jing Yuan. He thinks Jing Yuan made it his wallpaper.)
Two: she’s clingy. Once, he’s been waiting for the General at his front door, both of them needing to depart quickly for an emergency combat mission. Jing Yuan had been on his way out when he’d suddenly stopped in his tracks. When Yanqing looked down, he was greeted with the sight of Yinhe curled around the General’s shoes.
Yanqing had done a double take, completely taken off guard. Jing Yuan had only sighed.
“Yinhe,” he chided, kneeling. “We’ve talked about this. You know I can’t bring you with me.”
Yinhe meowed, looking up at him with the saddest, most mournful eyes Yanqing had ever seen. His own heart began to hurt at the sound of her pitiful cries.
“I’ll be back before you know it.” He detached Yinhe from his shoes as gently as possible and lifted her up, leaving a gentle kiss on her forehead, before setting her on her bed. “Just wait for me. Alright?”
(According to Jing Yuan, Yinhe only did this when he had to leave for battle. And according to one of his servants, she would spend the entire time sulking, curled up in her bed with her head down, unresponsive to practically everything. Thankfully Jing Yuan is very rarely called to battle…but every time he is, Yanqing can’t help but think of the story of Snowmoon again.)
Three: she…may or may not understand human speech?
Honestly, Yanqing has no idea. But there must be some reason why Jing Yuan always talks to Yinhe as if she were a human. Right?
“Can you understand what the General says?” Yanqing asked her one day.
“Mrow?”
“Can he understand you?” Yanqing frowned, now deep in thought. Surely not… “Wait. Can you understand me?” He clapped his hands. “Yinhe, if you can understand me, sit!”
She stared at him, unimpressed.
…In retrospect, he’s really not sure what he was expecting there.
He just sighed. “I guess you really are the General’s cat, huh?”
Four: there is absolutely no way to win her favor, whether through offers of snacks or toys or anything in between. Once she’s made her judgment of you, there’s no changing it.
There’s kind of a fascinating efficiency to her judgments. Yanqing is part-amused, part-baffled when he sees her interact with others. He imagines what goes through her head. Is it like a quick stamp per face?
Fu Xuan: like. Beibei: dislike. Yukong: like. Yiming: dislike.
He’s clueless as to how she decides who she likes or not. He’s heard before that animals have an uncanny ability to discern who is trustworthy, but he’s never really seen it demonstrated as clearly as with Yinhe. Those she dislikes are often people Jing Yuan isn’t very fond of. Is her intuition really that good? Or does she listen to what Jing Yuan says to her? Does this serve as proof that she does understand human speech?
Perhaps Jing Yuan trained her without anyone knowing…a secret intelligence agent, able to aid Jing Yuan in maintaining the Office of Divine Foresight. A truly fearsome opponent for the untrustworthy, who will never be able to see her coming, or dare to compete with her for the position she holds. A master in her own craft.
…
Yanqing glances over at Yinhe, who is currently batting at a dangling toy fish with her paws.
“You’re a real mystery,” he says, as Yinhe makes her way over to him. He scratches behind her ears, and grins as she begins to purr under his touch. “But maybe I should just be glad that you like me.”
---
Stelle, for one, could not be happier with this newest development.
The Astral Express Crew has just returned to the Luofu for a visit, and Jing Yuan had very generously invited them to his estate for a meal. And no sooner than they entered did they hear a curious little “mrow?” accompanied by a tiny ball of fluff padding across the floor.
The General has a cat.
March squeals in delight, immediately dropping to a kneel. “Oh my gosh, you’re so cute! Come here, come here!” Then, to Jing Yuan, “General, can I please please please—”
“You’re welcome to pet her,” he says with a chuckle, as the kitten blinks her big blue eyes at them. “Her name is Yinhe.”
“Yinhe,” Dan Heng echoes thoughtfully, peering down at her. “Galaxy.”
“That’s such a pretty name,” March gushes. She’s practically vibrating with excitement as she holds her hand out to Yinhe, and gasps when her hand makes actual contact with Yinhe’s fur. “So soft… ”
Stelle can’t resist any longer. She kneels down as well, and cautiously reaches out. Slowly, so as not to startle the kitten, she moves her hand, and brushes her fingers in a gentle stroke.
March was right. Her fur really is soft.
Yinhe seems to preen under their attention, rumbling like a steady motor engine. March giggles when Yinhe begins to lick at her fingers. Stelle thinks her heart is about to combust.
“She seems to like you both,” she hears Jing Yuan say. The smile shines brightly through his voice alone. “I’m glad.”
“Dan Heng, come here, come here!” March glances up at their third member, who has been standing silently to the side the entire time. “Don’t tell me you’re not a cat person!”
“I’m not especially partial to any kind of creature.”
“Then you should have no problem petting this one! C’mon, just look at her! How can you resist?”
Dan Heng sighs. Stelle doesn’t even need to look to know what face he’s making—the slightly exasperated tug to his brow, the flattening of his lips that she knows is just him not knowing whether to smile or frown. She also knows, like with most of the silly requests they make of him, that he’s going to cave any second now.
“Fine.”
There it is.
Stelle shuffles to the side a bit, as the smell of maple and ocean breezes grows closer. She allows her attention on the kitten to break for a moment, and watches as Dan Heng approaches. He lowers himself to one knee, and, with a rare hesitance, holds out a hand.
Yinhe leaps at him.
“What—” He catches her, seemingly on instinct. Seeing him so bewildered, with a wriggling cat in his arms, is so funny Stelle can’t hold back her amusement. March seems to be in the same predicament as her, already having doubled over in bright peals of laughter. He keeps alternating between shooting panicked looks at them and at Yinhe, a far cry from how composed he usually is. “I don’t—what—”
Jing Yuan’s laugh is more mirthful than Stelle’s ever heard it. It’s almost disarming, to see what genuine happiness looks like on him—his golden eyes are like miniature suns with how much they’ve lit up. “I’ve never seen her do that,” he manages between chuckles.
“What am I supposed to do?” Yinhe, having finally adjusted to a position she seems satisfied with, settles in Dan Heng’s arms with a happy purr, and Dan Heng is left to look at them all helplessly. “Perhaps I should put her down—”
“Are you crazy?!” March sounds beyond offended. “You can’t drop a cat!”
“I never said I was going to drop her—”
“You are the chosen one,” Stelle says solemnly, at which March nods with a hmph. “Resign yourself to your fate.”
“…which is?”
“Holding the cat until she chooses to leave, obviously.”
Their conversation continues, as they enjoy tea with Jing Yuan and as Dan Heng continues to hold Yinhe while still looking somewhat at a loss. Yinhe stays for a good thirty minutes before hopping down and returning to the General’s side. They talk about a variety of topics, from the Astral Express’s recent visit to Belobog (“Do you think that boxing champion we met could win a fight against Yanqing?” “How would a duel between a boxer and swordsman even work?”) to Yinhe herself (“Pom-Pom should let us keep a pet on the Express!”) to everything in between. At one point, Jing Yuan tries to teach them how to play starchess. It doesn’t take long for March to tap out, and Stelle is forced to forfeit after attempting to steal pieces without anyone noticing, but at least Dan Heng seems to enjoy the game.
It’s interesting to observe both Dan Heng and Jing Yuan here. She didn’t get much of a chance to focus on them before, what with the impending threat of Phantylia and all, but she’d noticed a strange tension between them. The way they worked together perfectly during battle, but behaved as if they were strangers otherwise. The way Dan Heng had run forward to catch Jing Yuan with fear radiating from him in waves, but told the rest of the crew he wasn’t close to Jing Yuan at all. It was all so perplexing…but none of them had wanted to pry. Not after all the emotional turmoil Dan Heng had been through.
Watching them now is different. Jing Yuan is a lot more distant compared to before, no longer speaking to Dan Heng familiarly or with any references to a distant past, asking him questions with the courtesy one would have with someone they’d only met a few times before, keeping his expression well-controlled without any of the pain or longing Stelle had noticed from their encounters before. He gives Dan Heng his space, and the only sign of Dan Heng noticing anything is a few raised eyebrows here and there…but otherwise there is nothing else. Nothing except for the gap between them, that only continues to grow.
Her phone buzzes, interrupting her train of thought.
Himeko: It’s getting late. Are you guys returning soon?
“Is it time for us to go already?” March pouts, evidently having seen the message as well. She looks forlornly at Yinhe, who she’d been playing with for the past while. “I guess time really does fly…"
Dan Heng looks up at the two of them. He and Jing Yuan have been locked in an intense starchess round for around the same length of time as March had been playing with Yinhe. “Are we leaving?”
“Himeko’s asking for us,” Stelle explains. “I’m sorry. You two haven’t finished your game.”
“It’s alright.” Jing Yuan waves them off graciously. After seeing what a genuine smile looks like on him, it’s a bit easier now to see how this one wavers. “Thank you for your company. I wish you a safe journey back.”
“Thanks for having us over, General Jing Yuan!” March hops to her feet, beaming widely. “We had a great time!”
“March, Stelle…” Dan Heng’s eyes dart between the two of them with an uncharacteristic uncertainty. When they’ve both turned their attention on him, he hesitates. “You should head out without me. I’ll catch up in a minute.”
“Huh?” March blinks. “Why?”
“I’d like a word with the General in private.”
“Oh—” Stelle chances a peek at Jing Yuan, who seems just as surprised as the rest of them. At his feet, Yinhe tilts her head, eyes on Dan Heng. “I mean…that’s fine. We’ll wait for you outside then.”
After saying their goodbyes to the General, she and March make their exit. As soon as they do, March leans against the door, pressing her ear against the wood.
Stelle crosses her arms. “Seriously?”
“Don’t tell me you’re not curious!” March whispers—or at least, attempts to whisper. “Do you know what they’re talking about?”
“Obviously not—”
“Then shush and let me listen!”
Stelle sighs, but obligingly keeps her mouth shut. She doubts there’s any point in trying to stop March. And besides…she won’t deny that she’s curious, too.
Jing Yuan’s walls are thick, but if she presses her ear against the door like March is doing, she thinks she can make out their voices…
“…to worry,” Jing Yuan is saying. “Speak what’s on your mind.”
“I’m sorry.”
“There’s no need to—”
“No, that’s…that’s what I wanted to say. I’m sorry.” A brief pause. “I treated you unkindly that day. You’ve done a lot for me and all my friends, and I’ve never even thanked you for it. So I wanted to apologize. I was just…”
“Frustrated.” Jing Yuan’s voice has softened. Stelle has to strain to hear him. “Because we kept seeing you as someone you’re not. I’m the one who should be apologizing, not you.”
“I know he was important to you. I’m sorry I have to serve as a constant reminder of who you’ve lost.”
“That’s not something you need to apologize for either.” A quiet exhale. “Dan Feng is gone. You do not have to worry about him or his life anymore. That’s what I promised to you.”
“I…I’m grateful for that, truly. I really am grateful for the effort you’ve been putting into not seeing me as him anymore.”
“…So you noticed.”
“General…I wanted to ask…”
A long, long period of silence. It gets to the point that Stelle can clearly see March growing more and more antsy.
“…No, never mind. I’ll stop taking up your time. I’ll…I’ll leave now.”
“If that’s what you wish, then I won’t stop you. Take care, Dan Heng.”
“Then, I—”
A loud yowl rings out, so startling that both March and Stelle flinch. They both exchange baffled glances. That sound…it sounds like…
“Yinhe?” Footsteps, nearing the door, followed by another string of loud complaints from the kitten. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Mrow!”
“I know you like him, but he must leave now.” The footsteps grow further, more distant. “We can’t force people to stay when they don’t want to, no matter how much we may wish otherwise. Do you understand?”
“Mrow?”
“I know it’s difficult.” Jing Yuan’s tone is hard to read, especially considering how muffled it is. “There are things we must all learn eventually. Like how to say goodbye.”
“Mrow…”
Stelle’s breath involuntarily hitches at the sound. Yinhe…sounds so sad.
“Apologies, Dan Heng. She’s never done that before. Please, don’t let us keep you. Safe travels.”
“…Alright. Goodnight, General.”
Quiet shuffling, then footsteps growing closer. Stelle and March leap from the door seconds before Dan Heng exits. One look at them is all it takes for him to sigh.
“You heard everything, didn’t you?”
“You can’t just leave after that!” March protests, completely ignoring Dan Heng’s question. “You didn’t even get to say what you wanted to say!”
“I’ve said plenty. There was no need for more.” He begins walking, and Stelle is only able to catch a glimpse of the regret and sadness lingering on his face before he’s in front of them. “Let’s go. It’s late.”
“Dan Heng.” Stelle speaks up, as she and March hurry to match his pace. “The General said we can’t force people to stay when they don’t want to. But is that true?”
He frowns, turning his head to face her. “What do you mean?”
“Do you really want to leave him behind that badly?”
Dan Heng falters. His pace slows, just the smallest bit, but enough for it to be noticeable. As if there were something within him that wanted to turn back around. To stay, rather than run away once more.
“I don’t know what I want anymore,” he admits, quiet and raw and honest. “I don’t know if what I’m feeling is genuine, or if it’s influenced by the memory and influence of Dan Feng. And…I don’t know if the General knows, either.”
Dan Feng…
Stelle peeks at March, at Dan Heng’s other side. He’s so different from the two of them, starting his life with too much whereas she and March started their lives with nothing. Running away from his past, versus then running to find their pasts. To be faced with the memories you don’t have in every direction you turn, no matter how much you run…versus to not be able to catch a trace of them at all.
She can’t understand his pain, can’t understand what it’s like to live with such a burden, to live under the shadow of an inescapable ghost. She often struggles with finding the right words to say, and this time it’s so difficult that it feels impossible.
So, without saying a word, she takes his hand. From the opposite side, March loops his arm in hers.
“It’s okay not to know,” March says, her normally bright voice dimmer and softer at the edges. “No matter what happens, and no matter what has happened…to us, you’re still you. And you’re always going to have us.”
It’s silent, as the three of them continue to walk down the night-calmed streets of the Luofu, hand in hand, arm in arm. Their pace is much slower than before…but that’s alright. As Stelle feels a warm squeeze around her own hand, and as March leans in closer…she hears an exhale, slow and sad, as Dan Heng lowers his head.
“You can talk to us,” Stelle says, whisper-quiet. “Any time. We’ll listen. Just tell us what’s on your mind.”
(And so, a few hours after they’ve returned to the peace and safety of their home…he does exactly that.)
---
“Are you upset with me?”
Yinhe’s tail swishes, but besides that she makes no other indication that she heard him. She sits stiffly by the door, back turned to him.
“This is a conundrum,” Jing Yuan says, sitting down on the ground, leaning against the side of his sofa. “You’ve never been upset with me before.”
It’s only been a couple minutes since Dan Heng left. Yinhe had wasted no time in jumping out of his arms to go where she is now, stationed right at the door and refusing to move. If it were any other time, he would’ve found her stubbornness terribly endearing…but this time, he can only sigh.
“I know you like him. I do, as well.”
Her ear flicks. Nothing else.
“Yanqing mentioned how he can’t tell what causes you to like or dislike a person upon your first meeting. I must admit, I can’t either. You seemed quite drawn to him. I don’t think you even greeted me that enthusiastically.”
Flick.
“What do you hope to gain, by sitting there? Are you waiting for him? Or do you simply not wish to face me?”
Flick.
They must make a funny sight. The Divine Foresight, sitting tiredly on the ground, talking to a kitten as if she were a person, and all he gets in return is a few flicks of the ear.
He really isn’t sure why Yinhe is so attached to Dan Heng despite just meeting. Perhaps there’s something he’s missing, or something he’s not quite understanding. But…he thinks he knows what she wants. Which only makes their predicament all the more regrettable…because…
“I’m sorry,” he says finally. “But I can’t make him come back.”
Because that’s the real issue, isn’t it?
“I can’t make any of them come back.”
Most long-life species are no good at keeping track of dates. Time is slippery and ever-fleeting, and clinging on to the past only quickens the mara. There are countless dates that Jing Yuan has forgotten, both accidentally and intentionally, and not chasing those dates down is a survival mechanism more than anything. For those as old as he is, forgetting is a mercy. Remembering is a curse.
But he remembers today’s date.
Today marks the day she died.
Today marks the day it all began to fall apart.
“Ah, Jing Yuan,” Baiheng cooed at him. “Once this battle is over, I’ll take you wherever you want to go, okay? As a late celebration for your promotion. My treat.”
“I’m sorry, Ah-Yuan,” Dan Feng said, only a few days later, one arm out in front of Yingxing—whether to protect him or to keep him away, Jing Yuan didn’t know. “I can’t tell you what I’m doing.”
“No sense of time, humanity waning…a serious case.” A cold, indifferent voice, that spoke even as Jingliu’s mara-struck form trembled. “You should leave, Jing Yuan.”
His master, his friends, his enemies, even his former pet…all gone. Dissolved into time. Away to a place he will never be able to reach. They have all left…and yet, he still remains.
Another funny sight. The Divine Foresight, accomplished and decorated with accolades and known to all in the Xianzhou…still unable to get over things that happened centuries ago.
His head tilts back, until it hits the couch surface with a soft thud. His eyes shut.
“Thanks for having us over, General Jing Yuan! We had a great time!”
“Goodbye, General. Thanks for having us.”
“…Alright. Goodnight, General.”
He wonders what will happen to the friends he has today. He wonders if it’s pointless to keep trying to make new friends like this, when he knows there is a good chance the same will happen to them what has happened to everyone in his life.
Will Yanqing repeat history with how Jing Yuan had once defeated his master in battle, or will he, too, leave this world too early? Will Fu Xuan get her wish in taking his role, or will she one day disappear with promises of future chess matches unfulfilled? Will he ever see the Astral Express crew again, or will they one day travel so far that there is no hope of them ever returning?
Is he lucky, to still be alive after all this time? Or would it be better if he had just…
…
His fingers are digging into the rug. There is a hollowness, that digs at the bottom of his ribcage, that digs its claws into his heart and cracks it until it bleeds. Sometimes, during times like this, when the memories grow particularly overwhelming and when his heart buckles under despair, a creeping numbness threatens to overtake him, just like now, cold and icy and unyielding.
A churning riptide, that threatens to pull him under, and yet he wonders what would happen if he one day just…let it crash into him. Is this how it feels, to be struck by mara? To let all your grief and regret and sadness bury you until the pain is so great that there is nothing but numbness?
…Would it be better for it to just take him?
“I suppose I’m a selfish man, deep down,” he hears himself mutter. “Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to be the one left behind. Perhaps…I should’ve disappeared with them.”
Then—
“Ah—!”
He jolts, head snapping upright, as something pricks his hand, a sudden hot flash of pain that pierces through the numbness. Startled, he looks to his left…only to see Yinhe there, digging her teeth into his hand.
“When did you get here?” he asks, as she releases it to look up and glare at him. Was he so lost in thought that he didn’t hear her footsteps? “Do you not like that kind of talk?”
“Mrow!”
She swipes at him with an angry paw. Fury rolls off her tiny body in waves.
“Hm…I suppose you’re right.” He lets out a chuckle, wry and dull. “Saying that doesn’t do anyone any good.”
“Mrow.”
She gives him what he suspects is the cat version of a hmph, and leaps up to the sofa smoothly. She bumps his cheek with her head, and Jing Yuan reaches up to where she had touched, only to startle again when his fingertips come away wet.
Ah.
“I’m sorry.” He brushes away at his tears, even as more continue to roll down his cheeks. He laughs, and it comes out slightly strangled. “It’s been a long time since I…hm. I didn’t even realize…”
“Mrow.”
Yinhe jumps, and Jing Yuan catches her. He holds her close, letting his forehead rest on her fur, as her warmth chases away what lingered of the cold numbing pain. For some reason, her warmth, and the feeling of softness against his skin…it only causes his tears to flow faster.
It’s a different kind of feeling, having such a stark reminder of the company he has here. One that is not as cold, but overwhelms him all the same. Yinhe is a solid warm weight in his arms, small but tangible and real and there… and perhaps it is still a funny sight, to see the General taking such comfort in a mere kitten, but really, she gives him all he needs.
A reminder. That despite everyone who left and may leave…he does not have to be alone.
He breathes in deeply, and breathes out, and when he opens his eyes, Yinhe is still there.
“Mrow?”
Yinhe yawns, and Jing Yuan just smiles.
“You’re right. Let’s call it a night here.”
He stands, with her still in his arms, and looks to the window, where the stars glimmer down at them. A moonless night, with the ever permanent stars, twinkling warmly.
“Tomorrow will be another day.”
Another day that awaits them…and yet, the thought does not fill him with dread anymore.
He presses a kiss to Yinhe’s fur, and lets out a watery chuckle at Yinhe’s purr, as the stars smile down at them.
---
The next morning, soon after Jing Yuan finishes getting ready for the day, he is alerted to a visitor at his entrance.
He opens the door, only to freeze, as he is faced with—
“Dan Heng?” He can’t fully disguise his shock, so his voice is slightly breathless as it escapes him. “I…” He clears his throat, quickly attempting to compose himself. “Apologies. How can I help you?"
“I’m sorry to disturb you.” Dan Heng is wringing his hands. A new habit, it seems. Dan Feng never used to do that. “I…didn’t get to finish what I wanted to say last night. To be honest, my nerves got the best of me…but Stelle and March advised me to come back.”
“Did they now?”
“They said it’s best not to live with regrets.”
“They are quite wise to say that,” Jing Yuan says with a smile. “What would you like to say?”
Dan Heng worries his lower lip. He scratches the back of his head awkwardly, his short dark hair ruffling as he does. His eyes seem to catch something, though, because he stops, his attention breaking from Jing Yuan for a moment, landing somewhere near his feet. Jing Yuan doesn’t even have to look to know what he’s spotted.
“Hello, you.” Jing Yuan raises Yinhe up from the ground, grinning as Yinhe meows in response. “Here to greet our guest?” Then, to Dan Heng, “She missed you, you know. Here.”
“Ah—” Dan Heng’s eyes widen at Jing Yuan offering her to him, but he reluctantly accepts, taking Yinhe into his arms. He still seems uncertain about it all, but at least holding Yinhe seems to have settled him somewhat. He takes a deep breath, and starts again.
“General, I was wondering…if you wanted to start over?”
Jing Yuan blinks.
“I’ve told you before, that I’m not him. And if you are only interested in seeking out what remains of him, then I cannot help you. But…” A beat. “If you’re willing to put the life of my past incarnation behind us…then I would be amenable to starting over with a clean slate. Would you…like to do that?”
He blinks again. Then he looks at Yinhe, who is purring up a storm at Dan Heng’s words. And he doesn’t think anything in the world could’ve held back the smile that breaks out on his face.
“I would love nothing more,” he says, as earnestly as possible. “I just have one request.”
“What is it, General?”
“Call me Jing Yuan. There is no need for titles between friends.”
Dan Heng’s shoulders relax slightly at that.
“I can do that.” He smiles, his jade eyes warming over, as the sun shines down on the three of them, all together once more. “Jing Yuan.”