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The winter snows pile up outside the walls of their home, growing taller with each night that passes. They haven’t been going out; the severe weather means that most of the people who Zhang Rishan would be taking a job from are less concerned with trying to capture yaoren, and more concerned with making sure their business ventures aren’t being brought to a standstill by the blizzards.
It’s also why it doesn’t take Zhang Rishan as long to notice Ba Ye’s altered patterns of behaviour as it normally would. Usually, they’re on the road, and Zhang Rishan is busy with planning and logistics, so when Ba Ye isn’t right by his side, he isn’t much aware of what the other is doing. Now, though, when they have nothing to do but laze about the house, it becomes abundantly clear when Ba Ye is away—or, rather, when he’s hiding something. Zhang Rishan has been watching him—not out of suspicion, but out of affection; it’s hard to keep his eyes off his lover, so often lounging in his pool to read or tinker with whatever contraption he’s gotten his hands on most recently, and Zhang Rishan will admit only to himself that he doesn’t much try, anyway.
Today, though, when he wakes up, Ba Ye’s not in his pool, the saltwater still and the bed lacking the weight of Ba Ye’s upper half on it, swaying slightly, doubtless from Zhang Rishan’s shifting in the night. It’s not the first day that he’s woken like this—it’s been almost a solid week, ever since the blizzard started to go from heavy to howling. With a practised motion, he swings his legs over the side of the bed and rises, heads into the kitchen to see if Ba Ye’s gone to make breakfast, though he knows full well that he probably hasn’t, because he hasn’t any of the other times either.
As he’d suspected, the kitchen is empty, though there are signs of their lives—dishes drying on the rack, cups left out on the counter, a box of half-opened tea. He trusts Ba Ye to know his own limits, so he’s not worried that he’s come to harm, but it’s still mildly unsettling to not have him within his line of sight—a familiar instinct, the desire to protect his lover even when he knows full well that there’s nothing that could bring him to harm. He makes himself some toast, brews a cup of tea, and then sets out to find where his lover has gone.
The other rooms of their residence turn up empty, which, while not surprising, is a little unsettling. It means that the only option is the outdoors—and while Ba Ye isn’t sensitive to the cold, the dry, howling winds run the risk of drying him out to a dangerous degree. He takes a sip of tea, and goes to the back door. It’s one of the only places he hadn’t looked, the past week—assuming that Ba Ye wouldn’t go out in the storm, but now, there’s no other option; or at least, none that he wants to entertain. He hopes that Ba Ye is there; if he isn't…
He pushes the thought away. He trusts Ba Ye; Ba Ye wouldn’t get himself hurt. With sure steps, he heads for the back door—and then pauses, when he catches sight of a familiar figure, clad in one of the thick coats Zhang Rishan had bought when they’d finally decided to use the house as their residence, crouches on the ground, the shape of him slightly distorted by the ornamentally-made glass of the window. Quietly, Zhang Rishan pulls the door open.
The gale-force wind hits him across the face like a slap, and he has to squint for a moment as his eyes adjust to the brightness of the light reflecting off the white field of snow. Ba Ye is crouched at the bottom step, his mouth moving in words that Zhang Rishan can barely hear. His hand is outstretched, moving across the snow—no, across a small, snow-white body, trembling and whimpering as it eats from a small bowl almost entirely hidden in Ba Ye’s shadow.
“Feeding the strays,” Zhang Rishan murmurs to himself, smiling without meaning to, and then shakes his head. “Ba Ye! Come inside, you’ll freeze out here.”
“Rishan!” Ba Ye’s head snaps about, his eyes wide, a sheepish smile spreading across his face as he takes in Zhang Rishan’s form. Then, he glances at the creature, and his expression turns to one of concern.
Zhang Rishan, already guessing what he’s about to say, calls out, “Bring it inside with you.”
In a fluid motion, Ba Ye picks the small creature up, cradling it against his chest, half-hidden in the coat, and then picks up the dish, now empty, as well; rises to his feet, and crosses the distance between them. Once they’re close enough that neither of them have to yell to be heard, Ba Ye says, “You weren’t supposed to be awake yet.”
“What, were you planning on hiding it from me forever?” Zhang Rishan raises a brow, and hustles Ba Ye inside. His skin is already looking dry; he’ll need to get back into the water, or he’ll start to get dizzy and weak from the dehydration.
“I suppose I can’t hide from you,” Ba Ye admits. “How long have you been noticing?”
“A week,” Zhang Rishan says, and carefully doesn’t smile at Ba Ye’s indignant expression. “Here, let me hold it—go get into the pool, I can get it more food.”
Ba Ye hesitates a moment, and then sighs; acquiesces. The small creature turns out to be a cat, its ribs prominent and its paws tiny. Zhang Rishan holds it carefully, and then takes the empty dish as well, and cocks his head. “Alright, alright,” Ba Ye says. “You worry like you’re guarding eggs.”
“Only one,” Zhang Rishan says, drily, and watches Ba Ye’s retreating figure until he sees him take off the coat and slip into the pool, lower half returning to its natural form. At a distance, it just looks like a smear of orange, but Zhang Rishan relaxes nonetheless. Against his chest, the cat lets out a plaintive mew, reminding him of its presence. Well, he thinks, as he turns towards the kitchen to get the pitiful creature something to eat, perhaps two.