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As a principle, Yanqing didn’t care much about other people.
Uh, well. Actually, one correction…
Unless said person was General Jing Yuan (and, by extension, Master Diviner Fu Xuan…and anyone else he really needed to listen to on account of rank) or one of his close friends in the Cloud Knights, Yanqing didn’t generally care about what other people thought of him.
Sure, it was nice to hear praises about his swordsmanship, and he was always open to constructive criticism when it came to his forms, but he never let their words get to him — he knew that words were often empty, which was why he much preferred the company of his swords.
Being the youngest lieutenant of the Cloud Knights ever and General Jing Yuan’s retainer came with its perks, but it also came with its downsides. Sometimes, while walking down the street, Yanqing would overhear people talking about how he was arrogant or undeserving of his position, how the General was absurd for training him, how if only they had gotten the opportunity to train under someone as renowned as the Arbiter-Generals themselves then they surely would have become better than Yanqing.
Sometimes, Yanqing would look up and see that the same people gossiping about how undeserving he was of his position were also the same people who complimented him for being a “gifted swordsman born to fight.”
Those words used to get to him, but just as he focused single-mindedly on his swordsmanship and honed his mind with every combat drill he completed, Yanqing taught himself to ignore them.
Yanqing didn’t need many close friends, anyway. He had a few close friends in the Cloud Knights already, so he didn’t see much need to make any more friends. Plus, he was far too busy with his training to become the next Sword Champion, and he had to dedicate his free time to helping General Jing Yuan find and catch criminals, and…
But, it seemed, General Jing Yuan had had other plans for him.
“General Huaiyan of the Xianzhou Zhuming will be accompanying his granddaughter, Yunli, to the Luofu to participate in the Wardance,” Jing Yuan said one day out of the blue after he and Yanqing had finished sparring and were sitting under the shade to take a break. “As my retainer, can I trust that you’ll be a good host and greet General Huaiyan and Yunli when they arrive in an hour?”
Yanqing’s mouth fell open in shock. “In an hour? General, they arrive in an hour, and you only just told me now?”
His master only laughed and shook his head. “Sorry, it must have slipped my mind earlier.”
“General,” Yanqing whined, “Master Huaiyan and his granddaughter are coming to the Luofu for a visit! That’s super important for all the Cloud Knights to know! We’ll need to arrange for their transportation and lodgings, and—"
Jing Yuan waved his hand in the air nonchalantly. “Yanqing, you don’t need to worry about any of that. All of those logistics have already been taken care of; I just need you to do now is greet them when they arrive at the docks and escort them to my office in the Seat of Divine Foresight in time for our meeting. I trust that you can do that for me?”
Yanqing deflated, feeling a bit bad for being so childish and thinking his master hadn’t already thought two steps ahead of him, and nodded in agreement. “Of course, General. You can always count on me.”
“Good.” Jing Yuan smiled and ruffled Yanqing’s hair, messing up the previously perfectly arranged ponytail, before standing up to leave. “Now, since there’s only an hour left before they’re due to arrive, why don’t you go take a shower and freshen up? I want you to look your best for when you meet Y — er, General Huaiyan and Yunli.”
“Yes, General.” Yanqing patted down his hair a bit before bowing to his master and excusing himself from the sparring grounds to take a shower and change out of his practice clothes.
General Huaiyan… Yanqing had heard of him before. It was hard not to, of course, since the man was one of the Arbiter-Generals of the Cloud Knights and was also the Master of the Xianzhou Zhuming Artisanship Commission.
As the longest-lived human on the Xianzhou, General Huaiyan had lived through the legendary time of the High Cloud Quintet and had even known General Jing Yuan when he was Yanqing’s age! The tales of General Huaiyan’s accomplishments were many, and now, Yanqing would finally have the honor of meeting someone who had known his master when he was young and was still mostly sane.
…Probably. General Huaiyan wouldn’t have still been an Arbiter-General if he had succumbed to mara, would he?
Yanqing shuddered and shook his head to dispel it of disrespectful thoughts. Although slightly traumatized from meeting two different people from his master’s past who struggled with mara — though his master’s master, Jingliu, still had some sick moves that he had hurried to teach himself — Yanqing knew that General Huaiyan had to still be sharp of mind if he were still in power.
As for his granddaughter, Yunli…
Yanqing had only heard about her in passing, mostly. She was the second youngest prodigy swordmaster of the Flamewheel Octet, and, if Yanqing remembered correctly, also liked to collect swords.
Actually, if Yanqing still was remembering correctly, Jing Yuan had wanted to set them up on a playdate before just because of that…
Huffing mentally, Yanqing walked faster toward the bathrooms. Of course, his strategic master had been planning something all along!
It was an honor to be entrusted to greet and accompany General Huaiyan and his granddaughter, naturally, but Yanqing had a feeling that his master had assigned him in particular to do such a task because he wanted Yanqing to meet Yunli.
Well, it didn’t matter. Yanqing would shower, put on some fresh clothes, and do his duty as a lieutenant of the Cloud Knights and General Jing Yuan’s personal retainer.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Whatever his master was planning, Yanqing wanted no part in it — he didn’t need to make more friends than the ones he already had!
“So, uh…” Yanqing fiddled with the metal bird pendant clasped on his belt as he frantically ran through a million different conversational topics in his head. “Do you like…swords?”
For all the bravado Yanqing had exuded when he had gone to greet General Huaiyan and Yunli at the docks earlier, he felt none of that confidence now. Even wearing some of his finest robes and with his hair tied back in a neat ponytail, he felt like a fool; something about Yunli’s presence made him tongue-tied and nervous from the first moment she had looked up at him with luminous amber eyes framed by jet black bangs.
Luckily, Yanqing had managed to hold it together for the most part. He had bowed respectfully to the two of them (taking care to bow extra low to general Huaiyan, considering the man’s…diminutive height), introduced himself as General Jing Yuan’s retainer, and escorted them calmly to the Seat of Divine Foresight. There, his master had been waiting, and after a few pleasantries had been exchanged, General Huaiyan and General Jing Yuan had retreated to a private office to discuss Xianzhou affairs and politics and whatnot.
Which had left Yanqing with Yunli, and, despite how much he had wanted to bolt after technically fulfilling his duties, he stayed to entertain her while her grandfather was gone.
It was all part of being a good host, really, but Yanqing had never floundered so badly in a social situation before. Even if he didn’t have that many interests outside of being the next Sword Champion, Yanqing usually knew how to talk to people!
Turning slowly to Yanqing, Yunli furrowed her brows as her lips quirked downward, confusion evident in her face. She would’ve looked cute (who was he kidding, she was still cute regardless) if Yanqing didn’t instantly feel mortified at what had come out of his mouth. “I’m sorry?”
“I mean!” Yanqing cleared his throat and subtly straightened his posture, trying his best to hide the slight blush on his cheeks. “Ignore that. I know you like swords. Of course, you like swords; you’re literally the second youngest prodigy swordmaster of the Flamewheel Octet! And you’ve been studying swordsmanship since you were young, too!”
Yunli nodded slowly, still not looking quite like she was following where Yanqing was going with all this. “Yes, that’s correct…”
Yanqing desperately wished that they were sparring instead of speaking. At least he could just focus on his forms instead of the words he was saying. “And you’re General Huaiyan’s granddaughter, so…”
“You’re just listing out my accomplishments,” Yunli said, raising her brows and crossing her arms. Yanqing did his best to not pay too much attention to the clinking of her gold bracelets against her wrist or the way, even annoyed, her face was still exceptionally beautiful. “Is this your way of answering your own question from earlier? Whether I like swords or not?”
Yanqing shook his head frantically. “No, no! Sorry, I swear I’m going somewhere with this…” he bit his lip and valiantly tried to calm the beating of his heart before continuing. A good swordsman knew that a calm, level head was needed before doing anything important! “Uh, General Jing Yuan told me that you like to collect swords. What kind of swords?”
Yunli’s eyes lit up, and she looked around them as if to make sure nobody was listening — which was an adorable habit, really, especially since they were both just sitting in the Seat of Divine Foresight while everyone around them bustled around working — before smiling.
Finally, it seemed like Yanqing had gotten something in their conversation right.
“Well, I do use a greatsword myself, but all kinds of swords are amazing,” Yunli began, “and since Grandfather told me that you collect swords too, then you probably know that each sword has its own personality, right?”
“Right,” Yanqing agreed. He had been poked by his unruly swords one too many times, thank you very much! “Some of them are so mean!”
Yunli chuckled, covering her mouth partially with her hand. Yanqing wanted to melt and combust and fly, all at the same time.
“Swords can have a temper,” she said, a twinkle of mirth in her eyes. “You just need to listen to what they want, though, and then you can calm them down.”
“Sometimes they just don’t listen,” Yanqing grumbled, his shoulders slumping down before realizing he was sounding like a whiny kid. “Sorry about that. My swords sometimes like to poke me, but it’s fine. Tell me more about the swords you collect?”
“I can talk to your swords for you later and see why they’re not listening to you,” Yunli said, placing her hands neatly on her lap. “And, to answer your question, I collect all kinds of swords, but my purpose in life now is to hunt down and wipe out all cursed swords.”
“Cursed swords?”
“The Flint Emperor’s influence is especially strong on the Zhuming since that’s where he’s being imprisoned,” Yunli explained, “and since Heliobi are energy beings, some of that energy we use to power the Xianzhou leaks out and possesses the swords. Sometimes, the energy is useful, but other times, the Heliobi’s resentment curses the swords and makes them vengeful and dangerous.”
Yanqing listened with rapt attention as Yunli explained the different processes by which swords became cursed on the Zhuming and how, while most members of the Artisanship Commission did their best to find and suppress such swords, there were always a good number of cursed swords that managed to escape — whether by the sword taking advantage of some poor fool or the sword being smuggled out by visitors to the Zhuming looking to make a quick buck.
When Yunli talked about a subject she was passionate about, her whole demeanor seemed to glow; to Yanqing, watching her arms move as she articulated her points was like watching a flame dance along the wick of a candle: the movements were simple and ordinary enough, but captivating when observed up close.
“But that’s enough about my hunting goal,” Yunli said, finishing up her largely one-sided conversation. Yanqing had been too stunned to speak to contribute much except a few hums to indicate he had been listening. “Aside from cursed swords, I would really love to find one of Yingxing’s lost masterpieces and add it to my collection. Do you think General Jing Yuan will let me look at Starfall Reverie?”
“Yingxing’s lost masterpieces?” Yanqing repeated back to her.
“Yeah, Furnace Master Yingxing was apprenticed under my grandfather.” Yunli tugged at the end of one of her long twin tails. “Grandfather… He doesn’t talk about him a lot, but the stories he’s told me about Yingxing’s craftsmanship and skills are inspiring. I know he was a short-life species that disappeared after the Sedition of Imbibitor Lunae… If he were alive today, I would have loved to learn from him, too.”
Yanqing nodded faintly, his mind racing a mile a minute.
“But isn’t it admirable that Yingxing forged such famous weapons in his short lifetime? That he even made four weapons for the High Cloud Quintet, including General Jing Yuan’s devastator glaive?” Yunli slammed her fist onto her palm in emphasis. “No matter what you think about the High Cloud Quintet, what Yingxing accomplished will go down in history! How could I resist owning a piece of that? Sure, I’ll never own Starfall Reverie since it rightfully belongs to General Jing Yuan, and nobody really knows where the other weapons are, but adding even one of Yingxing’s lesser-known crafted weapons to my collection would be a dream come true!”
As if noticing for the first time how her voice had grown in volume with each successive word she spoke and Yanqing’s look of surprise, a slight blush rose in Yunli’s cheeks as she looked around again to make sure nobody was watching them and cleared her throat.
“Yingxing is an admirable craftsman,” Yanqing agreed, unsure of what else to say to make Yunli feel less awkward. “You’re right. What he accomplished in his short lifetime is something I admire, too.”
“I’m happy you think so,” Yunli said, and the grateful smile she gave him afterward filled Yanqing with enough motivation to run three hundred laps and practice five hundred sword forms, despite the conflicting feelings warring in his chest.
How could Yanqing tell her that he had met — and even fought — Yingxing, who was still very much alive? Yingxing, who now went by the name Blade and was a wanted criminal with a bounty of 8.13 billion credits and ties to the infamous Stellaron Hunters?
How could Yanqing tell Yunli that the craftsman she so admired was a broken shell of who he had used to be?
The answer was: he wasn’t. General Jing Yuan had already ordered him to forget the events of that fateful day, so Yanqing wasn’t supposed to know that Yingxing was Blade at all.
Still, something in Yanqing itched to tell Yunli. He didn’t want to spoil her dreams — far from it — but the simple and honest truth that Yingxing was technically still alive…
“Are you two having fun?”
Yanqing looked away from where he had been staring at Yunli and made eye contact with his master, who had a knowing look in his eyes that Yanqing did not like. Still, he was relieved that the two generals had appeared when they did, thus saving him from having to think about the issue of telling her the truth about Yingxing any longer.
But… Maybe, if Yunli just wanted a sword made by Yingxing, then she never needed to know that he was sort of still alive…
“General Jing Yuan. Grandfather.” Yunli rose to give both the men a bow; Yanqing quickly followed suit. “I trust that your meeting went well?”
“Oh, just an old man catching up with a former brat,” General Huaiyan said good-naturedly. “I will never get over how fast you’ve grown up, Jing Yuan.”
Jing Yuan laughed, his shoulders shaking in amusement. “It’s been well over 700 years since I grew up, General Huaiyan.”
“700 years really passes in a blink of an eye,” General Huaiyan sighed, rubbing at his eyes. “Just like this day passed. Jing Yuan, I think I’m going to take a nap before we meet up for dinner — which hotel are Yunli and I staying at?”
“Oh, yes. I think I will take a nap myself, too,” Jing Yuan said, nodding. “And as for your lodgings, I’ll have Yong Hai escort you over.”
On one hand, Yanqing was disappointed that his time with Yunli for the day was coming to an end. On the other, he was glad for it — because he needed, desperately, to ask General Jing Yuan something that had just occurred to him as the best plan ever.
Actually asking his master for said favor was proving to be just as nerve-wracking as talking to Yunli, however.
“General…”
Jing Yuan looked over from where he was nestled comfortably behind his desk and raised one of his eyebrows. “Yes, Yanqing? What do you want?”
“How do you know that I want something?” Yanqing asked, crossing his arms and sitting himself down across from his master. “What if I just want to talk to you?”
“Wanting to talk to me would still be wanting something,” Jing Yuan pointed out, “and, well, I know you, Yanqing. You want something.”
“Now, what you want to ask me…” Jing Yuan relaxed his posture and leaned his elbow against his desk, for all intents and purposes a casual gesture, but for some reason Yanqing felt chills running down his spine at the movement. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with our guests from today, would it?”
A slight blush colored Yanqing’s cheeks. “Maybe…”
Jing Yuan’s smile grew teasing. “About Yunli, maybe?”
“General…” Yanqing shifted from his right foot to his left, the blush on his face feeling extra warm.
Jing Yuan only laughed good naturedly. “I knew you two would get along! Ah, young love… Now, what did you want to ask me about her?”
“I want to know if you can get her one of Yingxing’s swords.”
Immediately, the smile slipped off Jing Yuan’s face. “What?”
“I want to impress Yunli by showing her one of Furnace Master Yingxing’s creations,” Yanqing said, a bit more bravado returning to his stance. “She asked to see Starfall Reverie, but I want to give her something that she can actually take home and keep in her collection. So, I wanted to ask you, do you have access to any of Yingxing’s other forged swords?”
Jing Yuan’s shoulders slumped and his face turned sad, causing a surge of guilt to well up in Yanqing’s chest.
“Yingxing is a dead man,” Jing Yuan said quietly, “and all his forged weapons, except for…three, are better left in the past.”
Against his better judgment, Yanqing insisted, “But he’s not really dead, is he?”
“You were supposed to forget everything you learned that day,” Jing Yuan reprimanded, his gaze sharp. “Didn’t I tell you that clearly?”
Yanqing gulped, seeing that his “best plan ever” was already off to a rough start, but he persevered. “It was a learning experience for me, and you told me never to forget my lessons,” he said, hiding his trembling hands in his pockets. “And I’m sorry for dragging up these painful memories… But, please, General, all I’m asking for is permission to find and gift one of Yingxing’s weapons to Yunli.”
Jing Yuan still looked unconvinced, but Yanqing spotted a small crack in the armor of his stern expression, so with one last burst of motivation, Yanqing pleaded, “She doesn’t need to know that Yingxing is alive or anything — I just want to give her something that means a lot to her!”
At that, Jing Yuan finally relented, his eyes softening and the lines around his mouth finally relaxing.
“Passionate and steadfast as always, aren’t you?” Jing Yuan sighed and shook his head, his gaze a touch sad. “I was not lying to you when I said that Yingxing’s weapons are better left in the past. In fact, I don’t think any of his lesser-known crafts can still be found. Given how good he was at his craft, they likely still exist somewhere in the universe, but nobody knows where they have ended up.”
Yanqing opened his mouth to protest, ready to say that he was willing to follow up and chase any lead or clue he could find, but Jing Yuan raised a hand to stop him.
“However,” Jing Yuan said, “since, as you said, Yingxing is not really dead… Perhaps we can ask him if he’d be willing to make you a new sword.”
“A-ask him?” Yanqing took a step back, eyes wide in disbelief. “Make me a new sword…?”
Shrugging, Jing Yuan pulled his phone from his pocket and began typing. “If you’re so determined to gift Yunli something special to add to her collection, why settle for less? Why give her some second-rate sword that might be falling apart at the hilt? Don’t you think she’d really appreciate it if you gave her something specially crafted for her?”
Chills raced up Yanqing’s spine as he watched his master’s typical smile return to his face. Yanqing had the distinct feeling that he had been played, but he couldn’t quite figure out how.
“I’ve texted that woman, since apparently Yingxing… Blade, doesn’t answer his phone,” Jing Yuan said, handing Yanqing his phone. “Let’s see what she says, hmm?”
Yanqing took the phone from Jing Yuan with shaking fingers, unsure how he felt about his master having a direct line to an intergalactic criminal.
Jing Yuan: Where is Blade?
Kafka: Oh? How interesting.
Kafka: I thought we had been pardoned for our cooperation with the Luofu, General?
Kafka: But no matter. You wouldn’t be able to catch us unless we let you, anyway.
Kafka: I’m sure you and your little prodigy will find Bladie right where he usually likes to be…
Yanqing watched with bated breath as a typing speech bubble appeared in the text conversation, each second that passed feeling like agony to him.
Kafka: Right behind the one person he’s always followed.
Kafka: Old habits die hard, or they don’t die at all.
“Right behind the person he’s always followed…?” Yanqing muttered, confused.
Jing Yuan took back his phone, read through the text messages, and sighed. “Why am I not surprised,” he said, closing his eyes momentarily. “Well, Yanqing, you’ve got your answer. I’ll let General Huiayan and Yunli know not to expect you for dinner, or for a few weeks for that matter — and I’ll arrange for your transportation to Penacony.”
Once Yanqing had packed a small bag of necessities, boarded a ship to Penacony, and actually arrived at the planet of festivities with General Jing Yuan’s letter clasped tightly in his hands, Yanqing finally understood what that woman had meant.
Right there, in the lobby of The Reverie Hotel, was Blade stalking Dan Heng.
It was pretty funny, Yanqing had to admit, watching a man with an astronomical bounty sit brazenly out in the open surrounded by handfuls of people who would happily turn him into the IPC. To be fair, Blade was wearing a large overcoat, a face mask, dark sunglasses, and a beanie, but to anyone who had seen Blade before — whether on wanted posters or in real life — should have been able to see through his disguise.
Especially since Blade’s eerie golden red eyes were boring holes in Dan Heng’s back.
Yanqing wondered if it was a Stellaron Hunters power thing or if the people on Penacony were just too dense to notice anything past their noses.
Granted, Yanqing wouldn’t put it past the guests of Penacony to be too drunk to realize they were in the presence of a mass murderer — though the planet was interesting, and the colorful lights and marvelous feats of architecture were cool to see, he was definitely not a fan of the clusters of puking people he had had to step past just to get into the lobby.
Dan Heng, for his part, was chatting with his Astral Express friends and a handful of other people Yanqing didn’t recognize. As he drew closer, Yanqing could vaguely make out what Dan Heng was saying.
“Ten steps a death, a thousand miles entranced,” Dan Heng said, his eyes unusually intense. “If he’s in front of you, it’s most likely already too late; your choices are to unsheathe your sword or give up your life. Sometimes, even if you try to fight back, the choice is already made for you.”
“Wow,” one of the people Yanqing didn’t recognize gasped, their face unusually red. “He’s so fast… That’s hot!”
Dan Heng’s face did something funny, his eyebrows and nose scrunching while his mouth twitched. Did he have to sneeze? Was he constipated?
“Really impressive,” another person piped in. “Gosh… I’d love to see his swordsmanship for myself one day…!”
“You don’t want to see his swordsmanship yourself,” Dan Heng insisted, looking quite cross. “Trust me; I’ve been at the receiving end of his sword one too many times, and it’s a lot to handle. He’s incredibly fast, and only someone as experienced as he can handle it! Only I could… I mean, well—"
Blade scoffed, stood up from the couch he had been sitting on, and walked away. It was finally Yanqing’s time to act!
As he was hastily trying to follow Blade and not fall behind, Yanqing accidentally made eye contact with March 7th.
Her eyes widened in recognition. “Wait, isn’t that Yanqing—”
Quickly, before Dan Heng or the rest of the Astral Express crew turned their attention on him (and, by extension, Blade), Yanqing took off running through the hotel lobby and forced himself into the elevator.
He was somewhat unsuccessful, however — right before he slid into the elevator, his sharp hearing caught a half-whispered, “Blade…?” that seemed to come from Dan Heng.
Ah, whatever! As long as Blade himself wasn’t actually caught in Penacony, then Yanqing could be spotted, right? Sneaking around wasn’t his specialty, anyway!
Heart beating frantically in his chest, Yanqing slumped against the walls of the elevator and closed his eyes to catch his breath. Someone else got into the elevator with him and pressed a button; Yanqing lamented at his uncanny ability to lose the trail of the man he was supposed to be following.
“Brat, does Jing Yuan know you’re here?”
Yanqing almost jumped straight into the air and pulled out his swords but reigned in his instincts to simply swiveling around in shock. “Blade!”
Blade’s eyebrows furrowed above his sunglasses. “Keep quiet, won’t you?” he groused. “Why are you here? I already played my part on the Luofu. Tell Jing Yuan to leave me alone.”
“General Jing Yuan gave me permission to be here, but I’m not here to bring you back to the Luofu,” Yanqing hurried to say. “I… I actually have something to ask you.”
Blade was silent for several moments, making Yanqing wonder why he was putting himself in danger by taking a trip to a completely unknown planet and trying to reason with a mara-struck criminal, but eventually, as the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open, he nodded.
“Follow me to my room, then,” Blade said, walking out without waiting for Yanqing.
The trip down the hallway to the hotel room was relatively short, and before Yanqing knew it, he was ushered inside as the door locked shut behind him. Yanqing had never really wondered what the hotel room of a Stellaron Hunter might look like, but he was surprised to see the room was relatively messy. Aside from the shell-shaped bathtub where a really cool robot was lying in the water (was that good for the…circuits and metal and stuff?), an assortment of clothes that looked too small to be Blade’s strewn across the floor — judging by their colors and designs, they probably belonged to some of the other Stellaron Hunters — and a black cat sauntered casually through the space, peering up at Yanqing with eerily intelligent eyes.
The sharp shing of a sword being unsheathed rang through the air, and Yanqing just barely jumped back quick enough to avoid being sliced through by Blade’s sword.
It was a nice sword, Yanqing thought faintly as he admired the way the pitch-black metal faded to a threatening crimson, all while veins of gold ran through the blade. If Yanqing was remembering correctly, the sword Blade wielded had been one of the famous weapons he had crafted for the High Cloud Quintet and judging by how powerful the weapon still was hundreds of years later, the renown of Yingxing’s craftsmanship was well-earned.
“So,” Blade said, the distinct edge of mara-induced rage creeping at the edges of his voice, “What did you want to ask me, brat? If you tell me quickly, maybe I won’t need to send you back to Jing Yuan in pieces.”
Yanqing gulped and resisted his first instinct of pulling out his own sword, knowing that fighting Blade would not get him what he wanted. (Probably.) Plus, loathe as he was to admit it, even if he did take his sword out, Blade would probably beat him in a heartbeat.
Instead, Yanqing raised his hands in surrender to show that he was completely defenseless and meant no harm. “Blade… or, Furnace Master Yingxing…”
That was evidently the wrong thing to say, because Blade’s sword swung ever closer to Yanqing’s neck. “That man died long ago.”
“Okay, okay, Blade it is,” Yanqing sputtered. “But, uh, before I ask you… Could you put your sword down?”
“Why should I do that?”
“Pretty please,” Yanqing said, putting on his best puppy-dog eyes, the very ones that often got General Jing Yuan to buy him a new sword for his collection or let him stay up later than he was supposed to be awake. Nobody could resist his puppy-dog eyes, right?
Unfortunately, Blade seemed immune to all things cute, and the sword didn’t move an inch.
Something tickled the backs of Yanqing’s calves and he startled, sneaking a glance downward. At his feet was the black cat from before winding its long tail around Yanqing’s ankles.
“What are you doing?” Blade grit out, and Yanqing was surprised to see that the swordsman wasn’t talking to him but rather the cat.
The cat meowed in response.
Blade furrowed his brows briefly before finally, blessedly, putting his sword back into the sheathe. “Fine. You couldn’t beat me even if you tried, boy, so consider yourself lucky that I’m giving you this mercy.”
A part of Yanqing bristled at being reminded of the obvious power difference between the two of them, but he pushed it down in favor of flashing Blade his brightest, most unassuming smile. “Of course.”
“Now.” Blade crossed his arms and tapped his feet impatiently. “Ask me your question and be done with it.”
Mentally, Yanqing sent a prayer up to Lan The Hunt and, for good measure, a mental bid for strength and good fortune to General Jing Yuan and Master Diviner Fu Xuan, took a deep breath, then said, “I’d like you to make a sword for me.”
Blade’s expression of shock would have been funny if it weren’t somehow intensely intimidating, too. “What.”
Desperation running through his veins, Yanqing got on his knees and fell to the ground in a low kowtow. “I know you said Yingxing died a long time ago, and I get that, I really do. But you’re the only one I can turn to right now!”
When Yanqing didn’t hear Blade say anything or pull out his sword again, he continued. “You see, there’s this girl… She’s really into collecting swords like I am, and she told me that she’d love to own one of Furnace Master Yingxing’s masterpieces! So, I talked to General Jing Yuan, but he told me that any swords you made were probably scattered throughout the universe, and then he told me that I should just ask you to make me a new one so that it’s extra special!”
“So, Jing Yuan did put you up to something,” Blade muttered. “How did you know where I was?”
“Kafka,” Yanqing replied.
“…I should’ve known.” From where Yanqing still had his forehead pressed to the ground, it sounded like Blade was grumbling under his breath. “Kafka always loves to meddle…”
“So… Yeah.” Yanqing gulped, keeping his eyes still firmly rooted to the floor. “That’s what I wanted to ask you.”
Several long moments passed, but Yanqing didn’t dare getting out of his bowing position.
“Get up.”
Yanqing let out a quiet breath of relief and pulled himself up, arranging himself in a more comfortable position with his legs crossed. “So… What do you think of my request?”
Blade ignored him in favor of staring at the black cat casually grooming itself on a pile of laundry. “Elio. Is there any way you can get this…sassy lost child to leave me alone?”
“I’m not a child!” Yanqing protested, crossing his arms and pouting. “Don’t you want business? I’m trying to commission you! I’m not asking you to do this for free!”
Scoffing, Blade leaned back further into the back of the hotel room’s couch. “If I were still the Furnace Master Yingxing, then you wouldn’t be able to afford my prices.”
“Then it’s good that you’re not Yingxing anymore, right?” Yanqing couldn’t help snarking back.
The silence this time dragged on for a touch too long that Yanqing had enough time to severely regret his life choices. Who was he kidding? Of course, a Stellaron Hunter — even if he used to be the renowned Furnace Master Yingxing trained under General Huaiyan himself — wouldn’t want to help him.
All Yanqing had done was put himself at unnecessary risk and leave the Luofu when he could’ve been spending more time getting to know Yunli.
However, the thought of Yunli and the unbridled excitement in her eyes when she had been talking about owning one of Yingxing’s lost creations lit a new flame of motivation within Yanqing. He had already made it this far, and his master had even requisitioned a ship especially for him to go to Penacony and meet Blade, so who was he to give up so easily?
He was Yanqing, the youngest lieutenant of the Cloud Knights and General Jing Yuan’s personal retainer! He wasn’t going to leave without getting what he wanted!
“Please, you don’t have to forge one for me if it’s too much trouble,” Yanqing pleaded, trying to reason with Blade. “You could just tell me where you think some of your old creations are kept. Or, or, I don’t know, you could just teach me how to do it myself!”
“Kid,” Blade sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “the last time I made anything in a forge was before you were even born. These hands are no longer fit for crafting anything.”
To emphasize his point, Blade raised one of his bandaged hands, as if to showcase just how useless he believed they were. “These hands are not Yingxing’s. They are only good enough to wield a sword and cut down enemies…”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Yanqing said brightly. He’d done a good job so far ignoring that, just a few months prior, he had been chasing Blade with the intention of taking him back to the Shackling Prison.
Desperate times called for desperate measures.
“Why do you want to impress this girl so badly?” Blade asked, completely throwing Yanqing for a loop.
Of all the questions Yanqing had anticipated answering, this had not been one of them. Still, even when caught off guard, Yanqing had an answer.
“I really like her,” Yanqing confessed, surprised at how effortlessly the admission came to him. “She’s so passionate about everything she does, and when she talks…her eyes just seem to glow. I only met her today, but something in me is telling me that I should stay by her side and never let her go.”
Abruptly embarrassed by how much he had revealed of his feelings, Yanqing ended his spiel with a half-hearted, “…You know?”
Blade, with a faraway look in his eyes, replied, “I am all too familiar with trying to impress a certain…special person with my craftsmanship.”
Yanqing watched Blade stare off into the distance with bated breath, wondering the entire while who Blade was thinking of. A past lover from when he had been Yingxing? Was it Baiheng? Blade had seemed awfully emotional when he had spoken about her death during his reunion with former Sword Champion Jingliu…
“Okay then, suppose I do agree to help you,” Blade said, snapping out of his trance, standing up, and walking closer to Yanqing.
Yanqing held back the urge to squeal and jump up and down for joy.
“Don’t get too happy. I haven’t agreed to help you yet.” Blade crossed his arms and glowered down at Yanqing. “As you know, I am currently a wanted criminal with a sizeable bounty on my head — even if my hands still were fit for crafting, I do not have access to a furnace. Where would I even find a place to teach you?”
For the first time since he had started his relentless pleading, Yanqing faltered. “I… I’m sure General Jing Yuan will have somewhere we can work!”
And, just as Yanqing had predicted, General Jing Yuan did have a place where they could work.
…Unfortunately, it was nowhere on the Xianzhou and just some random planet in a nearby system, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“Freyre-X is a planet well known for its high temperatures and prevalence of blacksmiths,” Jing Yuan’s hologram said through the call. “I’ve already arranged for a private furnace for you two to work. You only have one week, however.”
“One week?” Blade groused, raising an eyebrow. “No way is this amateur going to make anything worthy of this girl he’s so enamored with in one week.”
Yanqing wanted desperately to snark back, but he restrained himself in favor of thanking Jing Yuan profusely.
“Of course, Yanqing. I am pleased that you are seeking to expand your skillset,” Jing Yuan said in response to Yanqing’s gratitude. “This one-week limit is also to your benefit, of course — Yunli will be leaving the Luofu in a little over a week, so you need to come back before she and her grandfather depart.”
Yanqing gulped. Learning how to forge a sword — something he had never dreamed of doing before, since he figured he was better wielding them than making them — and ensuring it was presentable enough to give to the girl of his dreams was a…much more daunting task than it had initially sounded like.
But, again, General Jing Yuan had already pulled so many strings to get him to where he was, and Yanqing had successfully convinced Stellaron Hunter Blade, formerly known as Furnace Master Yingxing, to help him.
There was no way Yanqing would be wasting this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
“Understood, General,” Yanqing said, giving Jing Yuan his best Cloud Knight salute. “I will not let you down.”
“Good.” Jing Yuan smiled and inclined his head to them both. “I will see you again soon, Yanqing.”
His hologram flickered and disappeared as the call ended, and Yanqing was officially alone with Blade for the first time ever.
Or, well, they weren’t really alone, since the planet still had plenty of people living on it, but they were functionally alone — Blade hadn’t brought along any of his fellow Stellaron Hunters (including the black cat, who he had referred to as Elio) and Yanqing, obviously, had come by himself.
Upon their arrival to Freyre-X, Jing Yuan’s contact had immediately escorted them to their lodgings for the week, which was a modest two-bedroom apartment unit situated above a private weapons forge, and then left them be, saying that there was plenty of food stocked in the kitchen of the apartment and that a vehicle would be there to escort them off the planet once their one week was up.
Yanqing, for all that he had tried to put on a brave face on the call with Jing Yuan, was incredibly nervous. The first time Yanqing had met Blade, he had been engaged in a bitter battle with the man to keep him away with Dan Heng, only to have Dan Heng turn and join forces with Blade.
Then, Yanqing had escorted Jingliu and Dan Heng to their strange and violent reunion at the Scalegorge Waterscape…
Well, at least Blade seemed to be a relatively calm and quiet man when not actively under the influence of mara.
“So…” Yanqing gestured to their apartment for the week. “Did you want to eat first or get started teaching me how to forge?”
Blade rolled up his sleeves, tied his hair back, and cracked his knuckles. “Grab some water from upstairs, eat a snack if you’re hungry, and meet me in the forge in five minutes. You’re going to need a lot of help if you want to make something worthy of this girl you’re trying to impress.”
Yanqing’s first attempt at forging a blade was…
“At least it’s not sentient,” Blade grunted, poking at the lump of steel that Yanqing had been trying to hammer into a basic shape with his bare hands.
“I think she’d have fun with a sentient sword. She says she can talk to them,” Yanqing said, trying to keep his tone hopeful despite feeling like a complete and utter failure as he placed the hammer down on the side of the furnace. “And how are you touching the metal with like that? Isn’t it hot?”
“After years of forging, you get used to it,” Blade replied, then blinked and shook his head quickly. “And my hands are now permanently injured. I’ve lost feeling in most of my nerves there.”
Yanqing wasn’t sure what to reply to that, and Blade had said that piece of tragic information so plainly, casually, as if he had simply been commenting on the weather. Maybe it would make things awkward if Yanqing tried to say something to comfort Blade; the man he clearly made some sort of fractured peace with the broken state of his body, and drawing more attention to it could potentially trigger his mara, so Yanqing stayed quiet and looked around the forge, which he had neglected to do in his rush to get something in his stomach and get started on his learning journey.
The workspace the two of them had been supplied was a simple, bare-bones place. The furnace was placed in a corner underneath an opening in the ceiling, allowing smoke to escape and billow upward while the fire was burning. Several sets of tools were placed neatly on a table nearby, with most of them looking completely unrecognizable to Yanqing, next to a box full of scrap metal of various sizes. A work bench with several sweat towels folded on top was pushed against the wall, and a door opposite the furnace opened to the stairwell that led up to their living quarters.
All in all, while the basics of the workspace were presumably the same as the forging areas Yanqing had glimpsed before, it lacked all the advanced crafting technology the Xianzhou Zhuming was known for.
Despite that, Blade, as if driven by a long-hidden muscle memory, had looked right at home as soon as Yanqing stepped through the door. With his hair pulled out of his face and the sleeves of his worn and torn jacket folded up, Blade had almost looked like the few craftsman Yanqing had seen working before; Yanqing wondered if that, minus the injuries, was what Yingxing had looked like in his youth.
The main difference, most likely, was the rows of bandages wrapped around Blade’s hands and arms and the almost haunted look weighing down his eyes.
A pang of sympathy hit Yanqing then. How lonely had Blade been in all those years after Jingliu had driven her sword through his heart countless times? Blade couldn’t have joined the Stellaron Hunters until much later, since reports of his mass destruction hadn’t started popping up until far after the fall of the High Cloud Quintet.
How many years had Blade spent alone after he was supposed to die as Yingxing?
After examining the mashed piece of metal for a few more minutes, Blade placed the metal back over the fire. “Your first attempt is better than some of the beginners I used to see at the Artisanship Commission.”
Yanqing’s hopes swelled but then were quickly dashed as Blade added on, “But most of those beginners were school children just barely out of their diapers, so I wasn’t expecting anything less.”
Crossing his arms and huffing, Yanqing muttered, “If I started as young as they did, I’d be just as good. I started learning sword forms when I was that young, too.”
“We’ll use this piece of metal for you to practice,” Blade continued, ignoring Yanqing’s mutterings. “You’ll need to get a feel for how much pressure to use and what metal feels like when it’s too hot, too cold, or just right to be worked on.”
Blade picked up the hammer Yanqing had set aside and tossed it back; Yanqing scrambled to catch the hammer by its handle instead of its hot head. “We’ve got a long way to go, kid, so you better be ready.”
In all honesty, Yanqing wasn’t sure what he had expected when Blade had placed a slab of steel into the furnace, set a hammer down in his grasp, and told him to “use his instincts” and “figure things out” so Blade could see what bad habits and points of knowledge he had to be taught.
Even though Yanqing had never set foot in a weapons forge in his entire life except for to pick up his own commissions, he had felt confident that he could, at least, make something passable on his first attempt. All the masters at the Artisanship Commission had made weapon smithing look effortless — and the ones Yanqing had seen working before in brief glimpses hadn’t even been of the caliber of Furnace Master Yingxing or General Huaiyan. Surely, if the more average of the weapons forgers could make the craft look so easy, then Yanqing figured that he could at least mimic their actions…?
Wrong. Yanqing had been oh, so wrong.
“The metal looks about the right temperature for you to start working it,” Blade said, peering over Yanqing’s shoulder at the glowing steel. “Try again. This time, instead of just hitting the metal, try to get a feel for the metal each time your hammer strikes down.”
Yanqing may have been wrong about how quickly he could pick up the art of forging, but it didn’t matter. He just needed to keep doing his best, and eventually he’d get it.
Steeling his nerves, Yanqing took a deep breath, gripped the cool hilt of the metal, and lifted the hammer once more.
On the second day of their one week on Freyre-X, Yanqing managed to hammer down the lump of metal into a relatively neat looking, flat sheet.
Blade looked over his work with a critical eye, running his fingers along every bump and dip in the metal and holding the sheet at different angles to determine the uniformity of the metal’s thickness.
After several moments of this scrutiny, Blade set the metal sheet that Yanqing had painstakingly labored over down and nodded to him in approval.
“Yes!” Yanqing, forgetting himself momentarily, dropped the hammer in his hands and jumped up to give Blade a hug.
Once he realized that he was most definitely not hugging General Jing Yuan, Yanqing hastily let go of the man who had gone rigid in his hold.
“Sorry, sorry!” Yanqing cried, bowing profusely to Blade. “I got so caught up in finally doing something right… I acted like you were my master.”
Blade stared down at him, his lips pressed tightly together in a straight line, and Yanqing despaired mentally about whether or not his impromptu hug had been enough to trigger Blade’s mara.
How horrible would that be, dying because he had done something as stupid as hugging a Stellaron Hunter?!
But then, Blade did something completely unexpected: he smiled.
Well, to be honest, it was hard to call it a smile. But the hard edge that had plagued all of Blade’s expressions before seemed to fade away, even if just momentarily, as the corners of his lips quirked up — the movement was so small, so slight, that Yanqing had a feeling that if he blinked, he would miss it.
“Like master, like disciple,” Blade murmured, the look in his eyes suggesting he was seeing the ghost of people who no longer existed as they once had. “Both brats with too much energy.”
“Too much energy…?” Yanqing asked, hesitant to break whatever trance Blade was in but too curious to not say anything. “General Jing Yuan was a brat?”
Snorting, Blade took a seat on the workbench, leaned back against the wall, and closed his eyes. “The brattiest,” he said. “From the first moment he saw me, he started arguing. It didn’t matter what it was about; he always had something to say. The only times he didn’t immediately start bickering with me were the times I was with…”
Just as suddenly as he had fallen into his reminiscence, Blade jerked away from his memories, his eyes snapping open to reveal glowing gold-tainted red.
“Get out,” Blade growled, clutching at his head and pointing toward the door with a trembling finger.
Panic gripped at Yanqing’s heart, but he stayed standing right where he was. “Let me help you,” he said, the words sounding more confident than he felt. “I can’t just leave you here—”
“Get. Out.” Blood had already begun to drip from where Blade’s nails had dug into the flesh of his forehead. “When the mara strikes, I will no longer see reason. You don’t have Kafka’s Spirit Whisper, and you can’t kill me. You can’t help me in any way that matters, so get out now.”
Frightened by the sharp turn Blade’s personality had taken and reminded of the crushing defeat he had suffered back when he had tried to apprehend the other man many months ago, Yanqing started to move toward the door, but hesitated just as he was about to leave.
When Yanqing looked at Blade again, running through every possibility of how he could help in his mind, he was met with eyes that looked more monster than human.
“I won’t say this again,” Blade said through clenched teeth. “Go. And don’t return until tomorrow!”
Finally convinced, Yanqing fled, remembering at the last moment to close and lock the door behind him — whether to keep Blade from getting out and harming others or keep others from getting in and harming Blade, he wasn’t so sure anymore.
By the time Yanqing had gathered enough courage to return to the apartment and workspace, the three suns of Freyre-X had already climbed their way high into the sky, announcing that the day was already well under way.
Yanqing had spent the night sleeping curled underneath a small cluster of trees, desperate to stay cool with what little shade he could find; Freyre-X was a planet best known for its never-ending summers, and in fact the native people there had no understanding of the changing of the seasons outside of what they read in books or watched in films about other planets. It made Freyre-X an ideal place for all manner of smithy — none as great as the forge masters that were apprenticed on the Xianzhou Zhuming, naturally — as well as vacation-goers looking to escape colder climates on their own planets, but sleeping comfortably outside proved a challenge for Yanqing, who was much more used to staying in temperatures that were on the side of too-cold.
Upon opening the door to the workspace, Yanqing wasn’t sure what to expect, whether he’d find Blade still struggling within the merciless grips of mara or Blade gone altogether, but instead he was greeted by a spotless work area that looked like it had been recently scrubbed clean.
Likely summoned by the creaking of the door opening, within moments of Yanqing’s arrival, Blade came down the stairway from the apartment.
“You’re alive,” Yanqing couldn’t help but say as Blade walked to stand in front of him.
“That’s the point of immortality, yes,” Blade replied, his tone dry.
Before Yanqing could say anything else, like, “You know what I meant, jerk,” or “I’m happy to see you’re feeling sane again,” Blade slapped a pen and a pad of paper into Yanqing’s hands.
“Here’s your assignment for today,” Blade said. “The week is almost halfway over, so it’s time for you to start planning what your sword will look like.”
Sputtering, Yanqing took the materials from Blade’s hands and held them close to his chest. “But I only just learned how to hammer a semi-decent metal sheet yesterday!”
“Yeah, and if we had all the time in the world, you wouldn’t even start making any kind of sword for another few years,” Blade snorted, raising one of his eyebrows at Yanqing. “But since you’re not a part of the Artisanship Commission, we have to make do. When you set out to find me to make something for that girlfriend of yours, didn’t you think about what you wanted to give her?”
“Um.” Yanqing fiddled with a corner of paper, trying to figure out what might fit Yunli’s tastes best. “Honestly, I thought I’d just be finding her a pre-made sword, so I didn’t think about it much…”
Biting his lip, Yanqing started rambling about whatever he could think of that could jumpstart his inspiration. “She wears a really pretty gold crown with green and blue jewels, and a lot of her outfit has bits of green and red, but her nails are painted red too. Maybe I could make something with a golden hilt with some red and blue jewels… The hilt should have a tassel too… And the blade should probably be a dark color to match her beautiful hair…”
When Yanqing finished musing to himself, he looked up from the floor to see Blade staring at him in a mix of judgment and amusement.
“That’s a little ambitious, kid,” Blade deadpanned, “considering, as you just said, you only learned how to hammer a semi-decent metal sheet yesterday.”
Yanqing’s face flooded with color, a bright pink that he couldn’t blame on the heat of the furnace since the fire had been put out. “You’re the one who told me to think about what I’d give her!”
“I expected you to say something like, ‘I’m going to make a longsword,’ or ‘She likes claymores, so I’ll make her something with a big blade.’ Not wax poetic about how pretty she is.”
“You just don’t understand,” Yanqing said petulantly, painfully aware that he was sounding like a whiny brat but unsure of how to stop it. Something about Blade’s teasing voice made him feel childish, like he was bantering with an old brother who liked to poke fun at him.
Blade scoffed. “Trust me. I understand too well.” One of his hands drifted toward his right wrist absentmindedly. “A spear sharp enough to pierce dragon scales… A blade worthy of his sharp gaze… A weapon that challenged the heavens with its very existence…”
Closing his eyes, Blade inhaled and exhaled several times while gripping at the sleeve of his coat. Yanqing simply watched, not wanting to say anything that could potentially trigger another flare-up of Blade’s mara.
Eventually, after several more breaths, Blade opened his eyes, appearing much calmer than he was before. “Anyway, today you’re going to use those,” Blade gestured to the pen and paper in Yanqing’s hands, “to draft out a few ideas of what you want to make for your girlfriend. Go sit over there and get to work.”
Yanqing obediently listened and sat down at the small worktable, ready to start drafting his ideas, when he realized exactly what Blade had said. “She’s not my girlfriend! …Yet.”
“Could’ve fooled me, kid.”
Yanqing didn’t turn in his drafts to Blade until late into the night, so Blade had sent Yanqing off to bed and promised to look through them while Yanqing slept.
Exhausted from a day full of thinking and flexing his creative muscles, Yanqing slept peacefully, only waking up once the light from Freyre-X’s suns began to shine through the windows.
Still, he was feeling so warm and sleepy, that — unlike other days, where he would leap up from his bed and get ready for the day immediately — Yanqing snuggled more deeply into his pillows and blankets, savoring those last few moments where his mind drifted between the dreaming and waking worlds.
Outside his bedroom, he heard Blade talking quietly — too quietly for a civilian to hear what he was saying, but just loud enough for a highly trained soldier to parse out the words.
“These hands are no longer good for forging weapons,” Blade said, as if it were a mantra he was meant to repeat, “and this body is my only weapon.”
“Is this what you wanted me to become when you cursed me, Dan Feng? Is this the forever you sought?”
A few moments passed by in silence, and Yanqing almost fell back asleep once more until his ears picked up on the sound of Blade speaking again.
“I no longer have reason to blame you,” Blade sighed. “I am the one who went along with your plans and cursed myself. And you… you have already paid the price, without me.”
Blade’s voice cracked, just a bit, and despite the haze of his drowsy mind, Yanqing felt that he was inadvertently intruding on something deeply personal.
“Elio has promised to give me the end I seek,” Blade continued, “and that is what I deserve after these centuries of chasing a ghost. And yet…”
By this point, Yanqing’s mind was almost completely awake; his body refused to cooperate with him, but he was acutely aware that he was listening in on something that was not meant for him.
“When I look into your reincarnation’s eyes, when I hear his voice, when I look at the back of his head… I no longer feel ready to cross over to the other side.”
Silence returned to the apartment once more as Blade evidently finished all that he had to say. After a few more breaths where the sunshine pried at Yanqing’s eyelids and the blankets around him began to feel more restrictive than comfortable, the steady thumping of Blade’s footsteps signaled his descent down the stairway and into the forge below.
Yanqing stayed in bed for as long as he could, but his legs quickly grew restless, his mouth felt irritably dry, and his stomach started to ache from hunger. Rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes, Yanqing got up, went through his morning routine, fashioned a quick but filling meal for himself, and finally went down to the forge.
As expected, Blade was already waiting for him. The man himself showed no indication that he suspected Yanqing of eavesdropping on him; in fact, if Yanqing hadn’t known that his mind couldn’t conjure up half of what he had hear Blade saying, he would have thought all the things he had heard earlier were part of some convoluted dream.
“This sketch of yours has the most promise, and it’s the one you’ll probably have the easiest time forging,” Blade said, handing said paper to Yanqing to inspect. “To get the blade that exact color you want, you’ll need to boil the blade after it’s done being forged in vinegar and black tea, which will take at least a day to really soak in. You better get started today so we can get the final touches done by the end of the week. I’ve already laid out the materials for you.”
Yanqing looked at the one sketch out of the dozens he had turned into Blade for approval, noting the relatively simple construction of the sword. The design Blade had settled on had a similar shape to the ice swords Yanqing had summoned in his battle against both Blade and Dan Heng, and he wondered if that had been a subconscious or intentional choice on Blade’s part.
Gulping, Yanqing shifted his gaze to the pieces of metal laid out by the furnace, which was already alight with a brightly burning fire. He had felt so proud of himself for managing to hammer down a relatively symmetrical, plain sheet of metal the other day, but now faced with the reality that he had not only signed up, but practically begged, Blade to teach him the way of weapon forging, Yanqing felt inexplicably that he should have maybe tried to come up with a different way to impress Yunli.
Well. There was no backing out now.
Yanqing set down the sketch close enough to the furnace to serve as a visual reference but far enough away that it was not at risk of getting caught on fire, then got to work.
The mid-morning passed quickly into noon as Yanqing worked diligently on forging the sword. It had started roughly at first, what with Yanqing’s uneven applications of force melding the metal into a bumpy shape, but Blade had come over and held Yanqing’s arm to correct his posture and demonstrate an appropriate amount of strength to put into each swing of the hammer.
Unlike the other days, Blade apparently felt well or charitable enough to be more involved with his teaching. Slowly but surely, with Blade’s careful attention and assistance, the metal beneath Yanqing’s hands began to take shape.
Optimistic about how the sword was turning out and emboldened by Blade’s calm demeanor, Yanqing opened his mouth to start a conversation. “When I first asked you to help me, you said you used to craft things to impress someone.”
Blade stiffened from behind him but nodded. “Yingxing did often spend his days trying to outdo himself to impress a certain person, yes.”
“So…” Yanqing forced himself to steady his hammer strikes, noticing that split second of lost focus had resulted in the metal he was working on warping slightly. “I’ve told you a lot about this girl I like. Yunli. Who was the person you were trying to craft weapons to impress?”
When Blade didn’t answer for at least ten minutes, Yanqing resigned himself to working the rest of the day in silence. He knew he shouldn’t have pushed his luck so much, but he had wanted to learn more about the man he had been spending so much time with. Plus, based on how emotional he had sounded earlier that morning while talking to himself, Blade desperately needed someone to talk to that could understand him.
Blade had denied all forms of monetary payment in exchange for his help (“The Stellaron Hunters have plenty of money. Save it.”) but Yanqing felt bad not having anything to offer. Yanqing didn’t delude himself into thinking he could possibly understand Blade’s pain, but, at the very least, he could listen.
Still, Yanqing could never get General Jing Yuan to talk about everything he had gone through during the fall of the High Cloud Quintet; it made sense that Blade would be equally reluctant to speak.
Just as Yanqing was about to blurt out a quick, “Never mind, forget I said anything, please don’t succumb to the mara,” Blade finally answered.
“He convinced Yingxing to commit an unpardonable sin with him, essentially damning himself to horrific punishment and me to a life of immortality,” Blade said, a hint of morbid amusement in his voice. “Then, since he was locked up in the Shackling Prison, he left me alone for hundreds of years, and some time in those centuries, he died. When he came back and I tried to chase him down, he killed me repeatedly by driving the very weapon I had crafted for him through my heart every time I got close.”
Yanqing’s eyes were wide, and his jaw was slack, and he had long stopped hammering down on the metal in the furnace. He had known that Blade and Dan Heng had some sort of history as Yingxing and Dan Feng, given what he had witnessed while he was escorting Jingliu and Dan Heng around the Luofu, but to hear it spoken so plainly like that…
Belatedly, Yanqing realized that he had to say something in return. But what could he even say to that?
“…That’s rough.”
Blade barked out a dry laugh that was more acid than humor. “You’re probably regretting asking me to teach you, hearing that.”
“No,” Yanqing said, bringing the hammer back up and getting back to work on shaping the metal down to give his mind something to focus on. He always spoke better when he was sparring, so he hoped that the words that came to him while he was forging would be the same. “I’m happy you told me that, actually.”
“Oh? Don’t tell me you want a similar fate to befall you and your girlfriend?”
“Of course not,” Yanqing said hurriedly, “but it’s…cool, that the weapon you forged him lasted for so long. Sure, maybe it was less cool that he used it to kill you—”
“Less cool is one way to describe it.”
“—but that means your artistry lasted for centuries, and he still carries a piece of you with him, even though he’s reincarnated. Isn’t that pretty awesome?”
Blade hummed, considering Yanqing’s words and walking over to help Yanqing fold the metal in on itself to give it more strength and structure. “I do feel proud when I see him still wielding the same weapon, even after all this time,” Blade admitted. “I even carved only the first character of his name into the body of the spear with the hopes that his successive incarnations would still use my weapon. That’s how arrogant I was, thinking that I could force him and every subsequent lifetime of his to remember me.”
“I don’t think that was arrogant of you,” Yanqing said earnestly, flipping the piece of metal over to work on the other side at Blade’s quiet direction. “I… I might not know much about how love works, and this is kind of my first crush. But. Um.”
Yanqing struggled to find the exact words to express himself but pressed on. “Based on what I do know about it… It’s normal to want the person you love to notice you, and think of you, and remember you, right? I don’t think you were being arrogant by hoping his reincarnation would look at the character you carved in the spear and think of you. It was just… a natural thing to want from someone you love.”
“Hm.” Blade did not say anything further, but he continued helping Yanqing with his weapon smithing, and his eyes remained clear of the bloodthirsty haze of mara throughout the rest of the day, so Yanqing counted that as a massive win.
The sixth day of Blade and Yanqing’s stay on Freyre-X began bright and early.
Yanqing had made a good amount of progress on the word the previous two days, and with Blade’s help had even gotten the basic shape of the blade hammered out. The shape was clearly there, and now anyone could clearly tell that it was a sword; there was apparently still a lot to be done before the weapon was in any state to be given away, but at least it was obvious now what Yanqing had been working on.
Still, seeing how much progress had already been made, Yanqing felt a new, blooming hope take root in his chest. Sure, looking down at the piece of metal, he could admit to himself that it was certainly nothing compared to the weapons forged by the experts at the Artisanship Commission; but the fact that he had accomplished so much in only a matter of days made him incredibly proud.
Spending more time with Blade was nice, too.
From his past encounters with the man, Yanqing had expected Blade to be angry, aggressive, and cutthroat with his comments — but, the more he got to know the man, the more he realized that Blade only really acted out of control and violent when he was struggling with the mara or actively fighting people in his way.
Based on the snippets he had heard about Yingxing, Yanqing didn’t think Blade acted exactly like his “past” self, either. Blade wasn’t overly outgoing or exceedingly warm, like Yingxing reportedly was.
However, Blade, on his own, was not unpleasant to be around. He was relatively quiet, only speaking up to correct and educate Yanqing about something or make a sarcastic remark. He had a dry sense of humor, and he offered feedback differently than Jing Yuan did — where Jing Yuan liked to dance around questions and often encouraged Yanqing to come up with his own answers, Blade was direct and straight to the point, explaining exactly what Yanqing was doing wrong and how he was supposed to fix it.
Blade was also not afraid to give credit where credit was due. He mostly spoke up to correct Yanqing, but the few times he complimented Yanqing’s work brightened Yanqing’s mood considerably.
“You’re picking this up a lot faster than I thought you would, kid,” Blade said, stepping away from the furnace momentarily to adjust the bandages wrapped around his hand and arm. “Maybe you should consider signing up for classes with the Artisanship Commission once we’re done here.”
Yanqing’s confidence had inflated terribly after that praise, and he couldn’t help but file that suggestion away in his mind. Sure, learning how to forge weapons from the Artisanship Commission would cut into his Cloud Knight training, but a good swordsman should know his weapons inside and out, right…?
And, while they were working, Blade would occasionally speak about his time in the High Cloud Quintet as some of his fonder memories returned to him in snippets. When he spoke, Yanqing thought he could catch glimpses of the man Blade claimed he no longer was in the way his eyes would light up, ever so slightly, and the corners of his mouth would soften.
“Dan Feng always used to visit me while I was working,” Blade said while helping Yanqing rotate the metal in the fire. “Sometimes, he would just appear out of nowhere, interrupting me while I was in the middle of forging something. It was very troublesome when I was trying to craft Cloud-Piercer as a surprise for him.”
After staring into the fire for several moments, Blade continued, “He just liked to sit quietly near me because we barely got to spend time together, but I think he was actually just soaking in the warmth of the fire. The Vidyadhara can get cold very easily.”
Yanqing wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear the next part, but Blade had said it audibly anyway. “I wonder if Dan Heng is staying warm…”
Hesitantly and painfully aware that Blade’s mara was at risk of flaring up, Yanqing asked, “What was the former High Elder to Yingxing?”
Blade had paused, then, before answering in a tone that sounding like he was doing his best to remain passive and detached. “To Yingxing, Dan Feng was everything.”
“Based on the legends of the High Cloud Quintet, I never would have guessed,” Yanqing replied, thinking back on how Jingliu had told Dan Heng that Dan Feng and Yingxing had been the closest out of the five.
The legends — at least the ones that mentioned the High Cloud Quintet explicitly by name — had hardly mentioned anything about the personal lives of the renowned group, only espousing their accomplishments and later decrying the Sedition of Imbibitor Lunae.
“It was an open secret,” Blade said in response, “that the Preceptors loathed. With… Even with how divided they were about Dan Feng’s sin, they all agreed on one thing: history was meant to forget the lofty High Elder choosing to keep company with a short-life craftsman.”
The last part of Blade’s answer had been spat out, each word more acerbic than the last. Blade stared at Yanqing for a long moment afterward before turning around and retreating to the apartment.
Yanqing felt bad for prying again, but he had much to think about regarding what Blade had just revealed to him. Too worried about the potential to mess up the sword, which was finally starting to look vaguely presentable, Yanqing had put out the fire and placed the metal away on a rack to cool.
An hour later, Blade came up behind Yanqing to hand him a glass of ice-cold water, almost like a peace offering.
“When I first met Jing Yuan, he was even shorter than you are now,” Blade said as Yanqing sipped on the refreshing water. “He didn’t catch up to me until I already had white hair, and by then, he had the advantage of having a spine that wasn’t starting to curve into itself from aging.”
Toward the latter half of the day, Blade began speaking more freely about all the members of the High Cloud Quintet.
“Jingliu…” Blade’s eyes had glowed faintly then, and Yanqing had been worried since he still didn’t know how to calm down Blade’s mara flare-ups, but Blade had quickly reined himself in. “You’ve done a good job copying Jingliu’s moves, kid. Even Jing Yuan struggled to pick them up when she first taught it to him; that’s why he eventually started using a glaive instead of a sword.”
“Baiheng would’ve loved spoiling you,” Blade commented as they both took a break from forging to eat a late dinner. “She was like a big sister to me, and she liked doting on Jing Yuan, too. If she had gotten the chance to meet you…”
After that, they had eaten the rest of their meal in silence, but Yanqing didn’t exactly mind. It was a peaceful silence, one shared between two people who didn’t feel the pressure to talk.
It was curious how comfortable Yanqing had grown around Blade in such a short amount of time. As a child, Yanqing had latched onto Jing Yuan pretty quickly, but he had taken more time to warm up to the other adults that came into his life.
Something about Blade, though, made Yanqing feel relaxed. Safe, even, despite how absurd that sounded considering just the week prior Yanqing had still seen Blade as an intergalactic criminal.
(Well, no matter how safe or relaxed Yanqing felt around Blade, he was still an intergalactic criminal. But, perhaps, that didn’t have to change anything.)
“If you’re done with your food, you can get back to work,” Blade said, gesturing at Yanqing’s empty bowl. “I’ll come down after I’m done washing the dishes.”
Yanqing nodded and thanked Blade, then made his way downstairs into the workspace. Though the movements were still not completely familiar to him, Yanqing went through the routine of starting the fire, tossing in kindling until it had grown into a sizeable flame, and placing the sword-shaped piece of metal back into the heat.
Once the metal began to glow red from within, Yanqing picked up the hammer he had set aside earlier and raised it steadily above his head.
As soon as the hammer struck the metal, though, Yanqing knew instantly that he had messed up.
Maybe he had applied to much force bringing the hammer down; maybe he had swung the hammer down onto a weak spot in the metal; maybe the metal hadn’t heated all the way through and was too cold to be worked on.
Whatever it was, Yanqing watched helplessly as the blade in his hands, several days’ worth of his own hard work, shattered into dozens of pieces.
“No!”
From beside Yanqing, Blade’s heavy footsteps thudded down the stairs. “What’s wrong?!”
Blade had unsheathed his sword upon hearing Yanqing shout, responding as if there was a danger to defeat, a threat to eliminate, but when he registered that there was only Yanqing in the workshop, he slowly lowered his weapon.
“Oh.” Blade hurried to crouch over and pick up the pieces of the broken sword. “Oh, no.”
Yanqing felt defeated and stupid all at once. He should’ve waited a bit longer for the metal to really glow red or tested the malleability of the metal with a light tap, instead of being impatient and going right to trying to hammer it. He should’ve just waited for Blade to finish washing the dishes so that he could work with supervision instead of trusting himself to do it all on his own.
He should’ve never even tried to forge a sword without any experience, even with Blade’s help.
A week was simply not enough time to make any sort of weapon, let alone a sword that Yunli would like.
How could Yanqing have thought that he could possibly make anything worthwhile?
“It’s fine. Don’t bother,” Yanqing whispered hoarsely, his eyes starting to sting the longer he stared at the chunks of metal that littered the ground.
It was like looking at a representation of all the expectations Yanqing had shouldered onto himself...and failed to meet.
Yanqing was the youngest lieutenant of the Cloud Knights ever — something he had always seen as a feat of greatness, but now, felt to him like a glaring sign of his immaturity. Every person he had challenged to a fight in the real world had beat him; from Blade and Dan Heng to even the Trailblazer, Yanqing had been unable to prove his prowess as a prodigy swordsman and had instead proven himself as an unworthy upstart.
Yanqing was General Jing Yuan’s personal retainer and had thus been granted the privilege of taking leave from the Luofu for the purpose of forging a sword under Blade’s tutelage, but, ultimately, the reason for him learning from Blade at all was a childish crush.
Yanqing had let his selfish wants get the better of him and distract him from his duty as a Cloud Knight, and all he had to show for it was a misshapen sword that had exploded into pieces the minute he had tried to work on it by himself.
“Let’s get you a new piece of steel,” Blade said, still kneeling on the ground by the scattered shards of Yanqing’s hard work. “You can start from scratch. We’ll have to do a simpler design to get it done in time, but—"
“Thank you so much for helping me this past week,” Yanqing forced out, shutting his eyes and trying desperately to keep his voice from wavering, “but I… I can’t do this. I give up.”
Without waiting to see what Blade was going to say, Yanqing turned away with his head held low, ran up the stairs, and locked himself in his room, where he finally allowed the tears trapped in the corners of his eyes to fall.
Yanqing didn’t force himself out of bed until it was almost noon.
A large part of him felt incredibly guilty for breaking down and throwing a tantrum in front of Blade, especially after all the effort the man had put into teaching and helping Yanqing forge the sword. After a night of rest, Yanqing felt much more levelheaded about the situation; it was embarrassing of him to have run out on Blade like that, but he still did not believe that the shattered pieces of the sword could be salvaged in time to be worth anything.
Eyes puffy and crusted over with the remnants of the tears he had shed before falling into a fitful sleep, Yanqing rolled out of bed and went to wash his face. He owed it to Blade to properly apologize and thank him for all his help the past week, and, at the very least, Yanqing wanted to look presentable for when he faced the older man again.
Once Yanqing felt that he looked somewhat decent, he emerged from the bathroom and looked around the apartment, even peeking into Blade’s bedroom.
Strangely enough, it seemed that Blade hadn’t slept at all the previous night, or had already woken up: his bed was made and untouched, and the dishes from last night’s dinner were still unwashed.
Yanqing’s heart sunk in his chest. Had he really driven Blade off with his emotional outburst…?
When Yanqing finally mustered up the courage to make his way down to the workshop, expecting to walk into an empty room, he was shocked at what he saw.
Blade was curled up, fast asleep, on the workbench, which had been pulled out to be closer to the middle of the room. At some point during the night, he had taken off his coat and tied up his hair, revealing his bare chest and arms wrapped in bandages and covered in scars, some that looked old and healed over and others that looked almost fresh — less like scars and more like burn marks.
Beside Blade, though, was a gorgeously crafted sword.
At first glance, it nearly looked like Blade’s own Shard Sword — but the more Yanqing looked at it, the more he recognized it as the very sword he had shattered the night before.
The main blade of the sword was also no longer the gray metal Yanqing had gotten familiar working with. Instead, it was a darker, almost onyx color, just like Yanqing had envisioned when he had been sketching down sword ideas.
Despite the color difference in the metal, the sword had clearly been put back together by the parts of the sword Yanqing had abandoned; just like Blade’s Shard Sword, the cracks between each piece were held together by some luminous metal, but unlike the gold veins that ran through Blade’s weapon, the lines were a fiery copper color.
Finally, the hilt was simple, yet elegant, and presumably made of the same metal that held the rest of the blade together.
It looked nearly exactly like the sword Yanqing had been trying to forge — except much, much better.
“I didn’t have enough time to boil the metal for long before I had to sharpen it, so it’s not as dark as you wanted it to be.”
Yanqing startled out of his musings and focused his attention on Blade; in his shock, he hadn’t realized that the older man had woken up and was now sitting up on the bench.
“You… You slept down here all night?” Yanqing blurted out.
Blade grabbed his coat and shrugged it back on. “Not all night,” Blade said as he finished buttoning up his jacket and stood up. “I’ve only been asleep an hour at most. Fixing your sword took most of the night.”
Yanqing was speechless. He looked at Blade, then at the sword lying innocently on the table, then back at Blade.
Tears welled up in his eyes, and before he was fully aware of what he was doing, Yanqing had launched himself into Blade’s arms.
“You fixed it,” Yanqing sniffled, clinging onto Blade like an overgrown koala, only feeling marginally guilty for the tear tracks that were probably staining the front of Blade’s coat. “You fixed it for me.”
“I know far too much about making something broken functional again.” Blade shook his head but slowly returned the hug, his arms wrapping awkwardly around Yanqing’s shoulders. “A broken thing knows other broken things.”
“You’re not broken,” Yanqing said into Blade’s chest, tightening his hold on the other man.
“What?”
“You’re not broken,” Yanqing said, louder this time to ensure Blade heard him. “You’re just… pieced together. Something new.”
Above Yanqing’s head, Blade huffed — whether it was in amusement or resignation, Yanqing didn’t know, but the older man also made no move to break free from the hug.
Eventually, when Yanqing’s phone began to vibrate with a notification, Yanqing finally let go to answer the call.
“Yanqing. Blade,” Jing Yuan’s soothing voice came through the call. “I’m so glad to see that you both are alive.”
Blade scoffed. “If you were so convinced that I would kill your precious disciple, why did you let him go off with me?”
Like he tended to do with things he didn’t feel the need to answer, Jing Yuan neatly ignored Blade’s jab. “I hope you’re ready to come back to the Luofu, Yanqing. A ship will be here to take you in one system hour.”
“I am,” Yanqing said, then the words fully registered in his mind. “Wait, just me? What about…?”
“I may have been pardoned for my crimes, but I’m not exactly welcome on the Luofu,” Blade said, crossing his arms. “I’ll call Kafka to arrange someone to pick me up from here.”
“Wait, you can’t just leave like that,” Yanqing insisted. “Please, General, can I take Blade back with me to the Luofu?”
Jing Yuan’s smile didn’t falter, but Yanqing could still sense his hesitance. “Yanqing…”
“He doesn’t need to stay on the Luofu forever,” Yanqing hurried to add. “I know he’s probably busy doing… whatever Stellaron Hunters do. But I really want his support when I give Yunli the sword we forged.”
Jing Yuan’s shoulders slumped, and his hologram flickered momentarily, but eventually he nodded. “Fine, as long as Blade stays out of sight. We’ve received… a few more important guests yesterday, so he’ll need to take care to not be caught.”
“Yes! Thank you, General!” Yanqing pumped his fists in the air, then remembered he had been forgetting something crucial and turned to Blade with a sheepish smile on his face. “Um… That is, if you want to come with me to the Luofu?”
Blade gave Yanqing a onceover that was only a touch judgmental before crossing his arms. “Do I even have a choice?”
Perhaps Yanqing had left out a few key details when telling Blade about his crush on Yunli.
“Now, you tell me that you were trying to forge a sword for Master Huiayan’s granddaughter?” Blade asked while they were both crouched behind a pile of shipping containers atop of one of the roofs of the Seat of Divine Foresight.
Yanqing giggled nervously while scratching the back of his neck. “Surprise…?”
Blade’s pinched expression made him look like he had just taken a massive bite of a lemon. “Master Huaiyan has always had a discerning eye. His granddaughter must have the same. That sword you’re holding…”
Waving him off, Yanqing adjusted the box that held the freshly forged sword in his hands. “Is not good enough for their tastes, I know. But I tried, and you helped me, so it’s got to be good enough, right?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Yanqing spotted the gleam of golden jewelry shining underneath the sunlight.
“Ah, Yunli is here!” Yanqing readjusted the collar of his robes and patted down a few flyaway hairs. “Wish me luck!”
Blade didn’t wish him good luck, but Yanqing didn’t mind at all, knowing that the man had already given him the best good luck charm in the world already.
The sun was bright, the breezes were mild, and Yunli looked just as breathtaking as Yanqing remembered her being. Taking both a literal and metaphorical leap of confidence, Yanqing jumped from the roof of the building and landed gracefully in front of where Yunli had been walking.
“Yunli!” Yanqing said brightly, his entire demeanor brightening. “I’m so glad I ran into you!”
“Yanqing,” Yunli replied, a note of surprise in her voice. “You’ve been gone the entire week.”
“Yeah, well…” Yanqing rocked from side to side on his feet, offering Yunli an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry for neglecting my duties to accompany you and General Huaiyan around the Luofu, but I’m back now.”
Yunli’s face softened ever so slightly. “Welcome back, then.”
“But the reason I had to leave for a week was actually to get something,” Yanqing said, holding out the thin box in his hands. “Something for you.”
Even with her eyes widened slightly with shock, Yunli accepted the box gracefully. “Thank you, Yanqing.”
It might have been the sun playing tricks on him, but Yunli’s cheeks looked as if they were dusted a light pink — but he couldn’t be sure if it was the lighting, the warmth of the day, or something altogether.
“It’s a sword,” Yanqing blurted out, unable to keep the secret to himself any longer. “I spent the last week away trying to find and forge a sword as a gift for you. Some… Some things didn’t go well, and I had a lot of help from an expert. But. Um. Yeah.”
Yunli looked down at the box briefly before a small, soft smile spread across her face. “That’s impressive,” she said, adjusting the box in her arms so she could offer Yanqing a respectful bow. “I’m on my way to meet with my grandfather now, so I’ll find you later and we can talk more then?”
“Yep, works for me,” Yanqing replied, bowing back to Yunli. “I’ll see you later!”
“I’ll see you later, Yanqing.” Yunli gave him one last polite nod, the smile never leaving her face, before continuing on her way.
Besotted and feeling suddenly faint, Yanqing watched her leave until he could no longer make out the vibrant colors of her garb in the distance.
“Ah, young love,” came a slightly sarcastic voice from Yanqing’s right. “General Jing Yuan’s retainer and Master Huaiyan’s granddaughter. A match made by the heavens.”
“What are you doing here?” Yanqing asked, turning to Blade, who had decided to join him and apparently jumped down from his hiding spot on the roof. “I thought you were still supposed to stay out of sight.”
Blade shrugged, a clear sign that he had nothing to say to that.
To the older man’s credit, most of the people had vacated the area near the Seat of Divine Foresight, and the spot they were standing in was relatively out of the public eye anyway, leaving the two of them mostly alone.
“And we’re not a match made by the heavens,” Yanqing protested, his cheeks aflame. “We’re just…friends.”
“Just friends, huh.” Crossing his arms, Blade leaned against a pillar and closed his eyes. “Sure, kid.”
Yanqing had nothing to say to that, so the two of them simply stood in silence. After spending a week together, any traces of awkwardness that might have permeated their interactions was long gone; now, with the impending reality that Blade would soon be leaving the Luofu to rejoin the Stellaron Hunters and Yanqing would return to his regular Cloud Knight routine, Yanqing was struck with one last bout of courage.
“For what it’s worth,” Yanqing said, breaking the quiet that had spread between them, “I think that, if you’re just honest to Dan Heng about how you feel, it’ll go well.”
Blade opened his eyes and stared at Yanqing for a few seconds too long — long enough for Yanqing to feel the beginnings of regret for being earnest and helpful start to creep up in his chest — before shaking his head and sighing.
“Our time is long over,” Blade said wistfully, fiddling with the freshly applied bandages wrapped around his hands. Yanqing had forced him to dress his newly acquired burn wounds, ones Blade had gotten when reforging the gift sword with his shaky and injured hands, when they had first landed on the Luofu. “Yingxing and Dan Feng both gave up any hope of living a happy life together when we committed that unpardonable sin.”
At that, Blade laughed drily, his expression unbearably sad. Yanqing couldn’t stand it.
“Perhaps they never had a chance of living a happy life together,” Blade chuckled to himself, one hand coming up to touch his long red earring briefly. “The High Elder of the Xianzhou Luofu Vidyadhara and an arrogant, short-life species craftsman… What kind of happy life could they lead together? They were foolish, too foolish, to think that they had any kind of chance.”
“Yingxing and Dan Feng have both died for their arrogance. Now, only Dan Heng and I are left.” Blade shook his head and closed his eyes again, this time as if to block the world from his sight. “Dan Heng has promised to accompany me to the end, and that alone will have to be enough.”
“But you have plenty of time before that end, don’t you?” Yanqing asked insistently, his heart hurting for the man he had grown to see as another irreplaceable mentor figure in his life. “He’s promised to accompany you to the end, but what about all the years in between now and then? Can’t you be happy together for at least those years?”
Drily, Blade said, “I’m bound to my script for Elio, and he’s busy with his duties on the Astral Express. He’s only obligated to keep his end of the promise.”
“I’d like it if you didn’t speak for me.”
Yanqing whipped his head around at the addition of a third voice to their conversation and came face to face with a certain azure-eyed Vidyadhara in his human form.
“Dan Heng,” Yanqing exclaimed, then covered his mouth when he realized how loud he was being. “Isn’t the Astral Express on Penacony?”
“Our business there is done,” Dan Heng answered, walking closer to stand beside Yanqing and in front of Blade. “We elected to return to the Xianzhou Luofu briefly before continuing onto our next planet.”
“So, the Astral Express crew was the special guests the General mentioned…” Yanqing muttered to himself, realizing why Jing Yuan had been so insistent on Blade staying hidden.
Dan Heng focused his next comment directly at Blade. “Especially after I caught a glimpse of a certain someone following me around on Penacony.”
Blade said nothing to confirm or deny the claim, but he opened his eyes, straightened his posture, and ran a hand through his hair tiredly. “Come to confront me, then?”
There, Dan Heng hesitated, bringing one of his hands up to grasp at the bracer tied around his arm.
“I’ve been… doing a lot of thinking.” Dan Heng gulped, his gaze flitting to the side, briefly meeting Yanqing’s, before returning to Blade’s. “Some of Dan Feng’s memories are coming to me in dreams.”
Having moved farther to the side to give them some personal space, Yanqing gaped at the two of them; Blade’s own surprise was evident in the way his jaw clenched.
“Even if I remember who Yingxing is…was, and remember being gifted Cloud-Piercer and even sharing drinks with…” Dan Heng shook his head, as if to clear it.
“I want to emphasize that I am still Dan Heng and not Dan Feng,” Dan Heng continued, his voice growing steadily stronger with each word, “but I’ve realized that, in order to live authentically as Dan Heng, I need accept that Dan Feng is a part of me, too.”
Blade watched Dan Heng mostly impassively, but if a week with the man had taught Yanqing anything, it was that the flicker of emotion in Blade’s eyes said multitudes.
“You were right, earlier, when you said that Yingxing and Dan Feng’s time is long over.” Dan Heng seemed to lose a bit of his courage, then, as he fiddled with the ties of his bracer. “But maybe… It’s not too late for us.”
The intensity of Blade’s gaze was overwhelming, almost frightening, but Dan Heng continued to meet it head-on. “I’ve tried to kill you ever since I found you again.”
“And I’ve tried to kill you ever since you started chasing me,” Dan Heng replied with a deadpan expression. “And yet, we still stand here now, completely alive. As you’ve said, I promised to accompany you to the end…”
Softly, as if intended only for Blade to hear, Dan Heng said, “I have a dead man’s face and half of his memories.”
“As do I,” Blade sighed. “Less than half, most days.”
“It’s not too late to start over, is it?” Slowly, Dan Heng walked closer to Blade, his head and gaze inclining upward to still maintain eye contact. “Piece everything back together?”
Yanqing didn’t stay around to hear Blade’s answer. He already had a feeling he knew what Blade would say — or not say, since Blade was a man of action, after all — and didn’t want to continue intruding on their privacy for any longer.
Unsure of where he needed to be next, Yanqing simply wandered. It was nice to be on the Xianzhou Luofu again; Freyre-X had been an experience he would never forget, but there was nothing like the familiar hustle and bustle of his hometown.
Eventually, Yanqing found himself strolling through the streets of Aurum Alley. The tantalizing aromas of freshly cooked street foods reminded Yanqing of his hunger, and he debated using some of his pocket money to grab a snack before heading back to the Seat of Divine Foresight to see if General Jing Yuan had eaten yet.
“Yanqing!”
There, coming down the street that connected Aurum Alley to the Exalting Sanctum, was Yunli. She still looked as breathtaking as always, but something about her seemed softer: maybe it was the stray strands of hair coming loose from her twin tails, or the way one of her detached sleeves was slightly lower than the other.
These little imperfections only made Yanqing’s heart beat faster. To him, those details emphasized that she was much more than the untouchable granddaughter of General Huiayan of the Xianzhou Zhuming — she was a teenager just like him, who he might have liked a little too much to be good for him.
“I showed the sword you brought me to my grandfather,” Yunli said to Yanqing in lieu of a greeting. “He said that it bears unmistakable signs of Yingxing’s craftsmanship — but the sword is undoubtedly new.”
Oops.
Yunli peered at him, not suspiciously, but curiously, her entire face alight with a burgeoning excitement. “How did you…?”
Tucking his wallet back into his pocket, Yanqing offered Yunli a confident grin that he hoped wouldn’t betray the butterflies making a home in his stomach. “Visit me again on the Luofu, and maybe I’ll tell you then?”
Yunli blinked at him, then laughed, a twinkling sound that was reminiscent of the chiming gold bracelets she wore on her arm. “Change that to you visiting me on the Zhuming, and you’ve got a deal.”
“It’s a date then.” Yanqing slapped his hand over his mouth, mortified. “I mean…!”
With her eyes luminously bright, Yunli stepped forward closer to Yanqing, and the shouting of the street vendors and the chatter of the passerby all faded away as she leaned over and pressed a light kiss on his cheek. “It’s a date, then.”