Archive of Our Own ^beta

Years after he’d watched that magnificent ship shrink amongst the stars, Dan Heng is more preoccupied with the layout of the IPC’s latest vessels than with a homeland he’ll never lay eyes on again. At least that knowledge was useful in his—  their— precarious dance.

It starts the same. Dan Heng is running— he is always running. 

Two sets of hurried footsteps echo across metal floors, a whirl of flashing lights washing their path in dark, red shadows. He is not running out of fear. Dan Heng is just faster, leaner. He can tire his pursuer out and escape unscathed, or have the advantage if he has to defend himself, so that he doesn’t have to— 

He tries to focus on the rhythm of his breathing. It is not easy when the climate aboard enterprise ships is so dry. The cold, brisk air tears at his lungs, the iron it leaves on his lips a warning. He turns down another corridor towards the emergency pods, slipping and slamming into the wall in his haste. Before he can stumble to his feet, the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. 

A dark blade sails past his face, crashing into the wall with a sharp squeal and a shower of sparks. Dan Heng whips his head around, spotting the red-eyed man charging at him, now unarmed, but nonetheless with a zealous grin on his face. 

Dan Heng feels the bracer on his arm vibrate. He reaches for the sword, but, despite a sharp tug, it does not budge. It’s deceptively heavy, especially with the ease and speed with which the red-eyed man wields it with. 

Suddenly, the footsteps are too close. 

He ducks to keep running, but is suddenly tackled to the ground. Cloud Piercer clatters out of reach, and Dan Heng gasps as his breath is knocked out of him. Fingers scrabble towards his eyes and wrap around his neck. Dan Heng panics because he never lets him get this close. 

“Stop! Please!” He cries, kicking his feet out. Despite the crushing impact against flesh and bone, the red-eyed man does not flinch. 

His hands tighten around a clump of hair and his windpipe, easily pinning Dan Heng to the floor. He feels his face flush red hot, choking around the man’s tight grip. 

Dan Heng is leaner, but he is not stronger.

“You will suffer. You will understand. I will make you understand!” The red-eyed man barks, his ragged appearance striking fear into Dan Heng’s heart. It rushes through his body, roaring fire begging for release—  for him to give in.

His addled mind grows more desperate, begging him to shed his skin, and burst forth in scales and ruin. As he gasps for breath, the picture gains more clarity: hot, ravenous hunger and heartless aggression held tightly beneath a tranquil surface. 

Bile rises in his throat at the idea—  of becoming the very monster that started all of this— of doing it all again. 

“Freeze!” A group of IPC security personnel rush in, holding out their spears. “Put down your weapons and surrender!”

The red-eyed man chants as if he’d heard nothing. “Of five people, three must pay a price.” His grip tightens. Dan Heng’s bones creak in warning. His sight darkens. 

One of the guards lets off a warning shot. It bounces harmlessly off the wall. 

“P—Ple—“ He wheezes, thrashing in his grip. “Guh…!”

He squeezes harder still.

Dan Heng cannot breathe. A cold chill runs up his veins. His chest throbs, desperate for a whiff of air—  of relief. 

“You are—”

This time the shot connects. Blood sprays across the wall. For a brief moment, the man’s face remains frozen in its crazed expression, his piercing, red eyes threatening to latch onto a piece of Dan Heng’s soul. Instead, he slumps over Dan Heng, blood leaking from either side of his temples. 

Dan Heng finally gasps for breath only to scream. As black dots scurry across his vision, he desperately tries to drag himself away from the body, to ignore the ball of heat that’s settled in the bottom of his stomach— fear. 

Blood pools against his chest. As he tries to scrabble away, his hands slip, slick against the wet, metal floor. Dan Heng cannot help but notice how his mouth tastes sharp and metallic. 

The red-eyed man, for all of his limberness, is heavy. His body does not budge. Dan Heng avoids looking at his face, eyes wide open, glazed over like a dead fish.

The IPC guards continue their approach, guns and spears held high. “You are under arrest for suspicion of vandalism of an official IPC vehicle. Remain calm or we will use force!”

The sudden burst of fear and adrenaline— the threat of shackles yet again— are enough for him to shove the red-eyed man off and finally reach for Cloud Piercer.

“Stand down!”

Dan Heng looks up. A spear hurls towards his face. 

This is when things change. 

The blow is suddenly blocked by a bloodied arm. Its sharp edge drilling through flesh and bone with a sickening crunch. Fresh blood drips onto Dan Heng’s face. He lets out a gasp of something between fear and relief. 

The body atop him rises sluggishly, head lolling to one side, like a puppeteer had cut its final string. The bracer on his arm grows uncomfortably cold in an instant. 

It gives Dan Heng enough time to crawl away and stumble to his feet. By the time he turns around, Cloud Piercer in hand, the guards are all on the ground, and the man is stalking towards him again. His head is bent to one side; his wrist dangling by strings of sinew and skin. Blood dribbles from his open wounds, his clothing now darkened by gore. His expression remains frozen in that sick look of glee. 

Despite Dan Heng cheating death, the ball of heat in his gut flares out, spreading into his chest—  his fingertips. It feels as if the man is choking him again, depriving him of oxygen, freedom, life. 

“You will die by my sword.” It growls, using its uninjured arm to wrench its blade from the wall with deceptive ease. It continues to back Dan Heng towards the end of the corridor. Towards the exit pods, he suddenly remembers.

“Nothing,” it hisses, as Dan Heng turns and runs, “will take that right from me.”

Dan Heng did not allow himself to linger on the event— of the strange act of protection—, but the little ball of heat in his gut remained. A small bud of anxiety that would bloom at the mere sight of the red-eyed man. It would not be the first time, nor the last. 

Not long after, Himeko hired him as a security guard for the Astral Express. One system week turned into two, and, eventually, Dan Heng found himself traveling just a tad less aimlessly. It kept him one step ahead of the ghoul that haunted him in the dreaming and waking world. It helped that the Express wouldn’t pass the Xianzhou until the next Amber Age. 

After even less time, Dan Heng pitifully offered to help the new passenger organize the data bank after his blond companion had left it in disarray. By then it was inevitable that he’d stumble upon the name of his ghost. 

Why was he so obsessed with him? What sin had Dan Heng committed? Who was “Blade”?

The pixelated portrait only tells him how much the IPC would pay for his head. 

As it were, filling in the data bank was incidental to Dan Heng’s search for answers. A handful of books and entries about the Xianzhou Luofu quickly turned into a growing collection. Dan Heng found himself reading through the cosmos, as if he were imagining life outside the Shackling Prison all over again. It soothed the looming sense of doom he felt whenever the Express had an extended stop. Unfortunately, what books he did find about that great ship were either entirely unhelpful—  his past life more clandestine than he’d hoped— or they would leave him with half-hearted dreams sketched out by his subconscious mind. 

The dreams twirled like a hurricane, the barest silhouettes suspended in the changing tides. But those after images would quickly settle into his mind’s basin, like sand at the bottom of a cold, dark ocean. 

If he was lucky, some would leave him feeling vaguely warmed. Dan Heng imagined such warmth would ebb from a dark night by a campfire, surrounded by good drink and bright laughter. Others left him suffused with heat, threatening to melt the chill settled deep in his bones. Rather than fear, the silhouette of a white haired man would enter his mind—  his warm, pale flesh tattooed on Dan Heng’s conscience. Those leave him thirsty, hungering for something he does not recognize. Water does little to douse the ball of fire those ones leave. 

He forgets each dream once he wakes, nothing but an imprint left in his mind—  of vague silhouettes—  of a white haired man who holds the answers. 

Life on the Express was otherwise uneventful. By the time March and Caelus boarded, Dan Heng had settled into his routine, confident in his trailblazing ability. But, as with any journey that grew too complicated, he found himself longing for the archive’s cold floor. Belobog was no different.

After all, he’d never been able to stay anywhere for long before the red-eyed man descended upon him like a moth to a flame. The longest he’d evaded him was after an accident, really. Dan Heng had been assaulted in the middle of the night and swung his spear with little regard. He’d stabbed Cloud Piercer into his left shoulder, digging into what he was sure was his beating heart. 

After the adrenaline washed away and the magnitude of it all settled over him, he panicked. But Blade had simply gripped the shaft and dragged himself closer with a wet grunt, the slick sound of flesh giving way to cold steel. His grin grew wider from the pain as he inched closer and closer, the shaft dripping with his blood. Hot fear like no other swirled in his gut, flooding his chilled body. 

Dan Heng vomited after that, shivering like he’d been left to freeze. He didn’t see the red-eyed man for a few system months after that—  pieces sewn back together, all brand new— but, despite the ball of hot fear, Dan Heng couldn’t bring himself to swing so callously the next time. 

Despite Dan Heng’s trepidation and Blade’s record absence, the red-eyed man doesn’t show his face on Jarilo-VI. Perhaps he met his end or found another ‘sinner’ to track and hunt. Dan Heng finds neither idea particularly comforting. 

The looming sense of danger grew when the Express was intercepted on its way to the Charmony Festival, encouraged to disembark on none other than the Xianzhou Luofu. He does not take comfort in the act of goodwill he takes in voting to help. It ends with Mr. Yang coveting the assignment and Dan Heng staying on the Express. He does not question whether it was out of genuine interest or a sense of protectiveness.

Himeko, however, was more conspicuous with her misgivings. With just the two of them left on board, her long, silent looks were not so easy to ignore. But, other than leave a prickle of self-consciousness, she does little else. 

Dan Heng turns to the data bank for comfort, tinkering with entries while mindlessly stroking his bracer. He tries, with the usual lack of success, to predict when the metal will grow warm again. Sometimes he wonders if he just imagines it, a hum that soothes the chill on his skin and the hot fear in his gut. 

And, in moments of weakness, he slips out of the archives to peer at the Luofu. The massive ship takes up a whole cabin window, a sprawling vessel teeming with starskiffs, blooming trees, and swathes of ocean. His fingers press against the glass as he tries to remember the warm respite he’d felt in the sun, before he was escorted onto a cold loading bay with the promise to never return. 

Himeko has yet to catch the unexplained and wistful expression on his face. 

This changes when Blade makes an appearance. This changes when Blade flings his sword, and cold metal sinks into his left shoulder. Hot pain races up Dan Heng’s arm as he sheds his skin with a shudder. 

When his eyes open, the frigid waters in his heart bloom, and his brow furrows. Ice cold spite fills his chest, shrinking his fears and emotions with ease. He arises again, crowned with antlers and the High Elder’s power. 

It does not escape Dan Heng’s attention that Blade bends to the red-haired woman’s will. That she manipulates his Mara to her benefit, and that, for the second time, their ritual changes: When Blade chooses to fight with him. 

Dan Heng does not question why. Not even when Blade strikes down another sword aimed for him, nor when he goads the young man to aim for him instead. Instead, he finds himself struck by his ability to converse. That the nature of his taunting belie arrogance over destruction—  distaste over killing intent. His comments do not dig under his skin. Perhaps it is because this form suppresses more of his emotion than he remembers, sealing his fear and his hunger for destruction. Or perhaps…

Blade suddenly leaps in front of Dan Heng, taking a sword strike to the chest. It cleaves through his clothes and suddenly half of his chest is bare, blood stained, and heaving from exertion. 

There’s a brief wave of heat in his gut, something Dan Heng had long understood to be fear, but suddenly seems out of place. 

Fear? Fear of what could puppet Blade to act against his very being, to protect the man he so eagerly hunts? Fear for Blade’s life at the hands of those who wish Dan Heng dead? 

Despite his frigid form, his voice still trembles when he turns to Kafka. “...What did you do?” He whispers, eyes darting to Blade. Even with their history, there is a wave of concern— of Blade’s free will, of the manipulation of his Mara, of the woman who uses Blade without care for his body. In the carnage between them, even Dan Heng couldn’t help but feel a sense of pitiful camaraderie.

But, perhaps his fear is misplaced. Despite his actions, Blade looks… fine. Good even. Dan Heng has never seen him clean shaved nor clothed in anything but rags. But, more importantly, no sign of the Mara remains. Dan Heng cannot fathom how. 

What was the heat sitting just under the surface of his skin? 

“I'm just clearing the stage for the grand entrance — can't have you three misbehaving in front of the Luofu's hotshot general.” She says, answering none of Dan Heng’s questions. 

From behind, he hears the chime of laughter. 

“Jing Yuan.” Blade growls, and Dan Heng turns around.

The man who’d banished him from the Luofu. The one who would come to him with books, studying him with a faraway look. The General of the Luofu. The Divine Foresight. Jing Yuan, a man with fair skin and white hair. 

His stomach churns, the warring heat and chill of this form threatening to consume him, but Dan Heng doesn’t so much as twitch. 

“Many years have passed since the two of you departed the Xianzhou,” The General says, coming to a stop before them. “And yet the circumstances of your return appear to be equally unhappy. If you still thought of me as a friend, you should've forewarned me.”

Dan Heng would not consider a few fortuitous encounters to constitute friendship. The General may be an overwhelmingly familiar man, but Dan Heng believes this to be a misunderstanding. This crown was not his. Their history was not his own. 

Blade seems to think much the same. “My task is complete.” He mutters, before stalking off. 

Dan Heng watches as he goes, feeling himself grow painfully cold in an instant. For a third time, their ritual changes. First, when Blade takes a blow meant for him. Second, when he’d fought for him. Third, when Blade walks away. 

It's the first time he thinks to call out to Blade, for him to look at Dan Heng, to make him come back to himself, whatever monster that may be. 

But Dan Heng bites his tongue. What he should have is some semblance of self preservation, not seek another chance to become someone’s prey. 

“It has been a long time... old friend.”

That soft, tender voice jolts Dan Heng out of his reverie. He whips his head around to face the General. As he draws closer, Dan Heng realizes the man is handsome, towering over him with a warm smile, his presence sending a shiver down Dan Heng’s spine. 

He recoils, taking a step back. “I'm not him.” He hisses far too sharply, unable to answer for the acts of another, unwilling to disappoint someone else today. 

When the General shuts his eyes, he visibly swallows down a cacophony of thoughts and emotions, ones that only his previous life seemed privy to. The coolness of this form smoothes over the bumps and edges of whatever guilt bubbles in his chest. Dan Heng may not feel the need to apologize, as presumptuous as the General’s words had been, but…

“Mm… I’m sorry.” The General whispers, eyes sullen. A smile, however, remains ever present on his lips.

His melancholic expression makes his next rebuke die on his tongue. Dan Heng turns to run away, unable to provide the comfort of the man he once was. The General stops him, but only to bring him to his friends, back to the same place where everything began. 

Dan Heng was not planning on meeting with the General after everything. 

In fact, he’s spent the last few days meditating in the archives, trying to pry open the door in his conscience to relinquish Imbibitor Lunae’s form. His sharpened nails would scrabble against the cover, trying to find purchase against the slick, icy surface. Even when hunger gnawed at his gut and his throat winced in thirst, he would sit, motionless, on the cold floor, willing his antlers away. Despite his efforts, he remains anointed, with a phantom tail that appears when he least expects it and an icy glaze that coats his every thought and emotion. The ball of fire in his gut roars for attention against the cold chill, but even it struggles to remain alight. 

Dan Heng was not a particularly emotional individual. The Shackling Prison and a life on the run had dispatched such open displays of emotion, favoritism, or preference with impunity. But this form seemed to quell what emotion he had managed to nurture since then. His tone was always flat. He no longer felt exasperation at the sight of March and Caelus’ mischief. He knew he was irritated, but he did not feel irritated. 

It had gotten to the point that the others had noticed too, but March and Caelus were off to see the Master Diviner before Dan Heng felt moved enough to explain— not that he ever would in this form. 

So, despite his hesitations— of avoiding the forlorn look that made something in Dan Heng’s chest twist— it was in this form that Mr. Yang brought him along to meet with the Sleeping General. 

Their meeting was cordial and to the point, but, once their teapot had been drained, the General had asked to speak to Dan Heng alone. Despite the worried glance Mr. Yang shoots him, Dan Heng only thinks he shouldn’t have been surprised. Even with his palpable disappointment, should the Luofu demand it, Dan Heng would accept exile once more. 

As the doors to the Seat of Divine Foresight swung shut, Dan Heng stared at the floor. He attempts to conjure up memories that do not belong to him in anticipation of the questions the General will ask. For what it is worth, Dan Heng finds he does not want to disappoint him, even if he hopes to lead him out in chains. The General has been nothing but kind and patient to the members of the Express. He does not want to be the reason they would come to have a strained relationship. After all, he had boarded the Luofu in defiance of the edict.

But, more than the thought of imprisonment once more, what spawns his worries is that he cannot give the General what he is looking for— who he is looking for. He fears that melancholy expression— the thought of calling him anything but “General”, a mockery of their once closeness—  and the way his chest shivers with cold at the sight of it.

“Why are you acting as if I’m going to eat you? If there is anyone to fear for their life, it should be me before your awakened powers.”

The fire in his body— the one this form tries so hard to extinguish— cools at the sound of his voice. The General is humble, affable. It lowers his hackles and eases the knot in his chest. 

“I mean no offense, General.” Dan Heng replies, face impassive. 

“None taken. And, please, call me Jing Yuan. After saving my life, I would have no proprieties with such an address from you.” 

“It was nothing.” He replies dismissively, unsure how to react to such warmth. 

And, yet, despite Dan Heng’s dismissals, the glowing approval somehow makes his body shiver. It’s the first time his heart has quivered since adopting this form. Dan Heng fears what such a reaction might mean— what feverish rush might follow if he allowed it to grow. 

His morbid curiosity gets the better of him— the ball of fire squirms at the cool wave washing over him. 

“How are your wounds?” 

“Healing well. Thank you for asking.” The General says simply. “But enough about me. I had hoped to answer all of your questions.”

Dan Heng’s mouth opens before closing wordlessly.

The General’s voice rumbles lowly, smoothing over Dan Heng’s ruffled feathers. “You seem confused.”

“I…” Dan Heng trails off, suddenly unsure of what the General wanted from him— if he wanted anything at all. The General met him in the Shackling Prison. He understood the role his previous incarnation played in what Dan Heng has slowly learned was the Sedition of Imbibitor Lunae. Friend or foe, most would regard a criminal of such renown with trepidation. The General shows nothing but devotion. 

“Why would you help me?” 

“As you stated, you are not Dan Feng.” He says, fingers curled around a teacup. It was empty, save for a few tea leaves sitting at the bottom— small, dark smudges against white porcelain. “I have requested your exile order be expunged after your heroic acts at Scalegorge Waterscape.” He sets the cup down, circling the rim with a finger playfully. “You are a free man, Dan Heng. I had hoped to personally see to it that your mind was equally free, especially with the questions you may have since leaving the Luofu.”

Dan Heng is bursting at the seams with questions. He considers asking if he knew about the script and why the Stellaron Hunters would hope to protect him. How did the General know he’d be able to part the sea and save his life? Why did he choose to defy the edict of the Ten Lords and banish him instead? 

Any one would number beyond one conversation. But, wary of the depths of the General’s goodwill, Dan Heng chooses only the most pressing. 

“Blade.” Dan Heng says, the lingering memory of heat simmering in the back of his mind, of the warm skin and white hair before him. “Who is he?”

The General smiles bitterly at the mere mention of the man. Dan Heng gathered that the General and Blade were friends in the past, but the expression on the General’s face leaves Dan Heng feeling achingly cold. “Did you know this is not his true name?”

Dan Heng frowns, finding the statement rather unsettling. In the General’s mind, would “Dan Heng” be an artifice?

The General continues uninterrupted, oblivious to Dan Heng’s inner turmoil. “I’m not sure if Kafka or Destiny’s Slave branded him with it, but…” He shakes his head with an exasperated smile. He does not seem surprised by the question, but, rather, dumbfounded that Dan Heng chose to ask. “His name is Yingxing of the Zhuming. He is a master craftsman, previously of the Artisanship Commission. Arrogant, but competent enough to justify his ego.” 

Dan Heng frowns, the warm description at odds with what he knows of the red-eyed man. No visions miraculously rise from his fogged memories either to corroborate the General’s claims.

“Since his… transformation, he has foregone the hammer in favor of the sword.” The General adds, eyeing the spear on Dan Heng’s back.

That, however, does.

“Why is he chasing me?”

The General’s eyebrows rise. He was not aware, it seems, of the terror Blade had wrought on his life. 

“As you may have discovered, the previous High Elder committed treason by harnessing the Abundance and stealing immortality. Yingxing aided and abetted his crime, and, in the process, consumed the flesh of Shuhu, an Emanator of Yaoshi.” His fingers tap at the wooden armrests of his couch, still processing the information. “I presume, with him being Mara-struck, nuance is irrelevant— it does not matter that you are not Dan Feng nor that he chose this path himself. He considers you, who borne the High Elder’s crown, culpable for his current state.”

Dan Heng lips thin, the answer helpful but unsatisfactory. 

“But he is not entirely senseless. And his healing ability… he cannot die, General. I have seen it.” 

The General’s tapping ceases. This he seems to know. “Yes, but this consciousness fluctuates. It seems to be dependent on Kafka. Despite her capture, her powers remain unknown, including to the extent of which she holds his Mara at bay. All we do know is that she can manipulate his Mara—  for better or for worse. Blade does not seem to begrudge this control, and it is unclear how much he has himself.” Despite his objective tone, Dan Heng can still sense the General’s distaste. “As for his healing, yes, he returned to his youth with that terrifying ability of his. We are aware that he has far outlived the lifespan of a short-life species. Unfortunately, only he or Dan Feng could tell us why he hunts you so ardently. All others who could have passed on.”

The gears in Dan Heng’s mind begin to turn. This question he handles with more care, voice softening. “Are you referring to the High Cloud Quintet?”

There is a glimmer in the lone eye Dan Heng can see. The General chuckles to himself, as if he was in on some joke that Dan Heng had mistakenly stumbled upon. “Yes, Dan Heng, I am. Your previous reincarnation was a member of the High Cloud Quintet, as was Yingxing.”

“Blade?” He whispers sharply. 

The General nods, his smile bittersweet. “Yes.”

Dan Heng stares at his hands, suddenly hollowed out. To think… one man’s actions were enough to cause the downfall of one of the greatest martial groups in all of the Xianzhou. 

“General, were you not also a member?”

He chuckles again. Dan Heng finds himself eased by the sound. It settles over his shoulders like a cool blanket. 

“You seem to have studied the Luofu’s history well.” He says. The praise comes easily from the General, but Dan Heng still finds himself feeling self-conscious. “Yes, I was. My master, Jingliu, invited me into its ranks, but I was not there when….” His eyes glaze over, as if he were sifting through memories numbering over hundreds of years. The moment is brief. He waves his hand, as if he were banishing the fog of a bygone era. “I cannot help you with this question, unfortunately.”

Dan Heng nods and sorts through what information he’s learned. He understands that Blade may resent the actions the High Elder had undertaken, but is clearly mistaken in blaming him. For all of Blade’s knowledge of his predecessor, it seems he remains unaware Dan Feng had experienced true death.

“Are you only going to ask about Yingxing?” The General teases, a small, guileless smile on his face. 

“I…” Dan Heng worries at his lip. “I’ve also been having visions.” 

“Visions?” The General echoes, expression growing pensive. “Do you remember any of them?” 

Dan Heng shakes his head, hesitantly adding, “I only even recall seeing a white haired figure.”

The General’s eye widens comically. “A white haired…?”

Dan Heng nods, butterflies fluttering around at the bottom of his stomach. Even this form of his couldn’t keep a nervous shiver from running through him. Dan Heng thinks he could almost taste his anticipation. 

But the General looks hesitant. It’s a stark contrast to the serious tone his voice takes on. “Is it a woman or a man?”

Dan Heng feels the bottom of his stomach start to drop, his growing hope wilting at the General’s furrowed brow. “A man.” He says quietly.

The General’s fingers tap against the wood arm again. “And you are inquiring because you believe this man to be…” It quickly ceases. “Me?”

Dan Heng shifts nervously in his seat, a wave of embarrassment cresting over the chilly tranquility. “I have no reason to believe otherwise, General.”

The General’s expression undergoes a series of emotions, all of which seem to be beyond this life’s understanding. He eventually settles on something more solemn. “As joyful as the thought would make me, Dan Heng, I doubt that is the case.”

He cocks his head. Joyful?

“I believe you are mistaken. Yingxing… he too was a white haired beauty. He had always been enamored with the High Elder. It did not escape my attention that this favor was returned.” He says lightly, but, as Dan Heng is learning, his expression does not always match his tone. “The Vidyadhara often experience dreams and visions of their past lives. Although this requires a catalyst, such as maintaining a memento of one’s previous life during rebirth.” The General appears uneasy as he adds, “The Preceptors forbid maintaining most of your predecessor’s artifacts to prevent you from regaining memories of his crimes. And you left so soon after that…” He trails off with a sigh, and shakes his head. “In any case, I am curious as to how your past life’s infatuation was able to bypass such measures.” 

Dan Heng slowly pieces together the puzzle that was the previous High Elder’s life. He’d believed, walking into the Seat of Divine Foresight, that the worst thing that could have happened was being unceremoniously arrested again. Instead, it appears he'd not only dangled the possibility of remembering his past life before the General, but revealed his unconsummated affections for his previous reincarnation. And now, he’s unveiled the tragedy that was the High Elder’s past lover coming to haunt and hunt him in his next life. Dan Heng curses himself— Dan Feng— for having entirely no foresight.

“I… see.” He says, rather halfheartedly. 

“It is not your burden to bear, Dan Heng. I do not tell you these things to cause distress or obligation. I only hope to repay your efforts with honesty. “

Dan Heng nods, mind swirling with information. “General, does that mean I’ll never find out why? Will I never recover memories of my past life?” 

A wave of something passes over the General’s face. Dan Heng, however, finds the singular eye and eternal smile difficult to read. 

“Do you want to remember?”

Dan Heng stares back into a pair of golden eyes, twinkling with something nearing hope. “...I just don’t want to disappoint you. Dan Feng clearly meant a great deal to you. It burdens me to know that he didn’t…”

“Dan Heng,” Jing Yuan rumbles, his calming voice washing away his fears. “You could never disappoint me. I know you’re not him.”

Dan Heng feels his cheeks flush, unbidden. The deep affection in the General’s tone… Dan Heng’s entire body seems to tingle, a calming coolness nestling in the empty space in his chest. 

“But, if this bothers you, I see no reason not to try.”

Dan Heng perks up. Despite his initial hesitations, the thought of learning more about Dan Feng suddenly piques his interest. “What do you mean?” 

There is mirth bubbling in the General’s eye, open and far too friendly in offering to commit a grave offense in Dan Heng’s name. “Would you consider meeting me again?”

Dan Heng, despite his form, blushes again at the question. “Ehem, General… I don’t suppose you… You’re a good man, you shouldn’t be—“

“Dan Heng,” He says, voice like soft velvet, slowly unraveling Dan Heng’s conviction. “I merely hope to provide you with what relics of your history remain. If you desire to uncover it, I would be more than happy to help you do so.”

Dan Heng searches the General’s face, but finds only genuine warmth. He does not know what bubbles in the bottom of his stomach—  only that it soothes the chill, washes over the ice cold feeling that makes his bones ache.  

“I only ask that you consider. I swear that your answer will have no bearing on the Luofu’s goodwill towards the Astral Express. We are and will remain in your debt. The other Charioteers of the Luofu would see to that, even if I don’t.”

Dan Heng’s eyes pinch. 

The General smiles. 

“And, please, call me Jing Yuan.”

Himeko remains suspicious of Dan Heng, albeit for a different set of reasons. Numbering among them, a request to remain on the Luofu for a few weeks more, despite his typical antsiness. The justification being Pom-Pom’s requests to repair the creaking only he’d been able to hear since the True Sting’s attack. But the list quickly grows longer, citing trainings with Bailu and diplomatic meetings with the Preceptors. Still, she does not ask questions. This numbers among the many reasons why Dan Heng considers her his favorite. The coffee doesn’t hurt either. 

Between being bombarded with the Vidyadhara’s politics and attempting to remember how to heal another, Dan Heng attends dinners with Jing Yuan. 

Their meals don’t typically draw any longer once they've finished eating, but what time they do spend together is pleasant. Jing Yuan is never too forward and remains genuinely curious with each story Dan Heng shares of his time as a Nameless. And when he tires of sharing, he prods Jing Yuan for his own. Over time Jing Yuan grows less melancholic, only smiling pleasantly at his past. He never searches for a glow of recognition in Dan Heng’s eyes, so Dan Heng never disappoints him. 

Dan Heng finds his smile a cool, soothing balm to the anxiety he feels to address his predecessor’s mistakes. Perhaps it was not just to help him uncover his past life’s mysteries— especially since nothing Jing Yuan has presented him with has sparked a new vision or memory. But, Jing Yuan's choice to dine with him assuages Dan Heng of his fears— that Dan Feng’s blunders were nigh unfixable. It seems it is as people say: time is life's greatest healer. 

It is hard to ascribe anything more selfish to Jing Yuan. Not with how easily he lets Dan Heng leave after finishing his food and how he does not press him about his dreams. The General seems to place Dan Heng’s comfort over his need to rehash the past and takes joy simply in his company. It guides Dan Heng to the indignant thought that the High Elder had not chosen the right mate when seeking out Yingxing’s embrace. Or that Jing Yuan was mistaken when he thought the white haired man in his dreams was anyone but the man himself all along.

But there is one night where Dan Hen’s curiosity gets the better of him. 

“I hope this is not improper to ask, but are you having difficulty shifting out of your current form? I’ve noticed you’ve kept your antlers since our battle with Phantylia.” 

Dan Heng’s chopsticks click together. It is not hard to respond impassively, the frigid waters still chilling his heart. But, in the General’s presence, the cold seems to soften.

“It is not.” He says, attempting to distill several weeks of failed meditating into a few words. “This form dulls my emotions. I believe it’s to protect my mind and body from external forces or distressing memories, but I’ve been having difficulty shifting back. I’m not sure if it’s because I haven’t assumed this form in so long, or if…” Dan Heng’s head dips contemplatively, the weight on his head making itself known. “If it’s because I don't feel like things are resolved yet.”

“I see.” Jing Yuan says, his finger tapping the table. His eyes drift upwards, studying the very things that vex Dan Heng. “Is there anything a humble Cloud Knight can do to relieve such weight?”

Dan Heng sets his chopsticks evenly atop the small, black rice bowl. Several white grains still remain inside. 

“You’ve helped me a great deal, General. Hearing about Dan Feng helps me put his memories to rest— even if I haven’t remembered anything new. Just being around you seems to soften the mental barriers.”

“I am happy to hear of your progress.” Jing Yuan says cheerfully, “But, you seem to still have hesitations?”

At this, Dan Heng pauses. It would be rude to dredge up old friends and old memories, right? 

“Please do not hesitate to make demands of me, Dan Heng.” Jing Yuan reassures him. “I owe you a great deal. It would be my honor to share your burdens.” 

His warm words and expression loosen his tongue. Dan Heng nods, feeling air whisk between his antlers. “Do you have any idea how I could meet with Blade?” 

If Jing Yuan feels distaste for the name Dan Heng uses or for the question he poses, he does not show it. “Perhaps. Your friend, the one with the Stellaron. Do they not have formal connections to Elio’s compatriots?”

Dan Heng had thought to ask Caelus for Kafka’s contact information, but the idea of such a request gnaws at his conscience. 

Jing Yuan takes notice of his torn expression. “You are not comfortable asking this of them?”

Dan Heng shakes his head. 

“And yet, you ask me?”

Dan Heng, suddenly self-conscious of his trust in Jing Yuan, backtracks. “I apologize for my impudence, General. Please pay my request no mind.” 

“No, no. I am not discomforted by the question.” Jing Yuan says, rubbing his eyes. It is hard to believe him, but Dan Heng lowers his hackles. “I only wonder why you intend to hide such a thing from the members of the Express. Surely their knowledge would ensure your safety in the event of such a meeting?”

“I do not want them to worry. They only know of the times Blade has attacked me. But…”

“They wouldn’t understand why you wish to seek him out?”

Dan Heng nods. 

“He retreated when you last saw him. Combined with the newfound control of his Mara— you hope finding answers will let you leave this form?”

Dan Heng nods, glad Jing Yuan understands his conundrum. He’d researched again and again the effects of Kafka’s words and her powers, but still hadn’t come to a conclusion— of why Blade was acting so strangely and where it left the ball of heat in his gut. Yet another hole to fill in the data bank. 

Jing Yuan sighs. “I understand if you believe this will help you return to your other form, but I ask that you take care in your dealings with him. Yingxing is a volatile individual. I would not like to see you hurt.”

Dan Heng is a bit surprised by the wave of relief that washes over him. To have Jing Yuan’s backing, caveat or no, seemed to weigh far heavier on his conscience than he’d like to admit. Perhaps… it is okay if he becomes soft and vulnerable. 

“Then… would you mind being there if I do?” 

The General seems struck that Dan Heng would ask such a thing. Perhaps he’d judged their closeness incorrectly. But the rejection he steels himself for does not come. 

“Dan Heng, I would happily do so, should you wish to have me.” 

The stirring in his chest only grows, and Dan Heng finds himself yearning for Jing Yuan to be just a bit more selfish. 

“I would want nothing less… Jing Yuan.”

The doors to the cabin open and shut behind him with a gentle swish. The familiar scent of waxed floors and brewed coffee wash over him. He takes a deep breath, soothed after a long trek back from dinner. 

“Hey, Dan Heng?”

Dan Heng turns towards the voice, spotting the red haired woman seated by the radio. “Yes, Miss Himeko?”

“Welcome back.” The woman says, beckoning him over to her table. As he walks over, he notices a cup of coffee and a package sitting atop it. She fiddles with the crinkly, plastic wrapping. “Had a long day?”

“Something like that.” He replies cryptically, hoping this is something quick. He still needed to bug Caelus for Kafka’s contact information. “Is there something you need from me?”

“Well… no. I just want to make sure you’re being safe.”

Dan Heng tilts his head. “I’m doing my best to avoid any dangerous areas. Thankfully the Luofu is not struggling with Fragmentum as Jarilo-VI is.” Himeko seems displeased by his explanation, so he hesitantly adds, “And… I’ll be sure to report back to you if I do run into any trouble.”

Himeko nods to herself, mumbling under her breath, “Right, yes. That is absolutely what you should do.” 

Dan Heng’s gaze shifts to Caelus, seated on the couch behind her, clearly eavesdropping on the conversation despite the console in their hands. When they meet Dan Heng’s eyes, they shrug.

March makes a “Psst!” sound nearby. “Just give him The Talk already!”

The… Talk?

Himeko grimaces at March, clearly hiding behind the couch, and tries to delicately maneuver the situation despite her outburst. “Dan Heng, when there is someone in your life you care about, sometimes you want to spend a lot of time with them. I want to make sure that you know you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” Himeko, as she speaks, hands him the sealed package. “In case you do want to do things, I want you to use these. I know the Vidyadhara don’t have to worry about certain things, but you should still be wary of STDs.”

“Es Tea….?” Dan Heng turns the package over in his hands. He moves to tear it open, but Himeko’s manicured hand settles atop his. 

“Maybe wait to open this later. Just try to have fun, okay?”

Dan Heng’s mouth opens, but a sudden flood of understanding drenches him. He closes his mouth again without a word, feeling that hot, cold ball of fire in his chest quivering in his chest.

“Do you… have any questions?”

“Um… It’s not like that, Miss Himeko.”

The woman says “Oh.” under her breath, relief, disbelief, and mild discomfort now mixing into her expression. “Just keep it anyway. You never know when it might come in handy.” 

Dan Heng nods weakly. 

“And you’re welcome to bring… whoever it is aboard the Express. I’m sure they would like a tour.” 

“Yes, Miss Himeko.” Dan Heng nods again, slowly backing away to go wash up.

As the doors behind him swish shut, he overhears Himeko chiding March for jumping the gun. 

As they argue, Dan Heng reconsiders his rankings. 

Dan Heng is terrible at lying, but thankfully not as terrible as Caelus is gullible. In no other scenario had other individuals in the data bank had their contact information added alongside their biographical information, but Caelus has accepted his request with little resistance. The worst thing, however, was the implication that Dan Heng was interested in the hedonisms the red haired woman offered. He made it quite clear to Caelus he was not. At least, if she was the one offering.

Once Dan Heng was alone in the archives that night, he creates a chat, thumbs hovering over his keyboard. Trepidation and mild indignation mire his thoughts, worried about contacting a known criminal, one that subjugates others to her will, even if Blade seems to be fine with it. 

Eventually he taps something out, only for the message to bounce and an error code to pop up. 

Exasperation blooms in his chest. Of course a Stellaron Hunter would refuse to maintain the same contact information. 

Dan Heng massages his temple, already planning how he’ll ask Caelus for Silver Wolf’s contact information or, Lan forbid, Blade’s himself. 

Suddenly, his phone buzzes in his hand, and he glances at the screen again. It’s a message from a different profile. 

Anonymous: I’m assuming you’re a member of the Express.

Anonymous: What do you want?

Oh. Perhaps this will work.

Dan Heng: Is this Kafka? This is Dan Heng from the Astral Express.

Anonymous: Ah yes, the Prodigal Son. I remember you

Anonymous: You’re lucky I have Silver Wolf maintain all of our chat logs

Anonymous: How may I assist the Luofu’s eminent High Elder?

Dan Heng grimaces. The woman too easily gets under his skin. Perhaps that is her secret power. 

Dan Heng: Can you get a message to Blade?

Dan Heng: I need to speak with him.

Anonymous: How curious

Anonymous: What’s in it for me?

Dan Heng frowns, thumbs hesitating over his screen. He doubts any of his material possessions would interest a Stellaron Hunter. 

Another chat bubble pops up before he can think of an adequate response.

Anonymous: I’m kidding. I’ll consider this as a favor for Bladie

Bladie?  

The name causes a noxious feeling to churn in his gut. 

Anonymous: I’ll tell you now so you can be prepared

Anonymous: He refuses to text and call, so you’ll be seeing him face-to-face. As long as you’re amenable to the potential appearance of his Mara, I’ll have no problem sending him your way.

Anonymous: Deal?

Kafka sends an emoji of Blade holding his sword. 

Dan Heng senses that this was far too risky, especially with Kafka hinting that Blade may go on a rampage, further decimating the Luofu and causing yet another crisis.

His phone buzzes again. 

Anonymous: Have you ever heard of Jeopardy? You might like their theme song. 

But Dan Heng reassures himself. With Jing Yuan at his side, he’s sure they can handle the fall out. 

Dan Heng: OK. Can he meet me tomorrow at the Seat of Divine Foresight?

Anonymous: Lol, you really know how to throw a party

Anonymous: Have fun, kiddos and say hi to that navigator of yours for me

Despite how aggravating Dan Heng finds the conversation, he politely types out his gratitude.

Dan Heng: Thank you, Kafka.

Error: Recipient does not exist

He stares at his screen with mild discontent. 

“Oh, Dan Heng?”

He suddenly gets a feeling of deja vu, and begrudgingly turns around to face the voice. “Yes, Mr. Yang? What is it?”

“Oh, nothing big.” He says, but he’s squinting even more than usual. “I see you have your knapsack with you.” 

Dan Heng subconsciously hikes it further up his shoulder. He swears he hears Himeko’s package crinkle loudly inside. “Yes. I’ll be out for the day. Will that be a problem?”

“Oh, no, not a problem at all.” Mr. Yang laughs nervously, catching onto Dan Heng’s standoffishness. “I just wanted to have a quick chat with you before you leave. To check in on you and see how you’re doing.”

Dan Heng cannot help but grimace, hoping this isn’t what he thinks it is. “I’m… fine. And you?”

“I’m just as well, Dan Heng. Thank you for asking.” 

Dan Heng is decidedly not a talkative person, but even he finds the ensuing silence rather painful. 

Eventually, Mr. Yang realizes Dan Heng is and will continue to be unforthcoming, and decides to just keep talking. “Anyway, I just want you to know that we’re here for you in case you need anything. As long as you wish for it, the Astral Express will always be your home.”

Despite his initial exasperation, Mr. Yang’s genuine tone surprises him. He looks up at the man, eyes warm with untold concern and care. It is not the first time Mr. Yang has said something similar to Dan Heng, but it is quite the timely reminder. 

Dan Heng looks away, suddenly shy, but nods along. 

“I also hope that you find someone who's willing to do the same thing and even more for you, Dan Heng.” A warm hand falls onto Dan Heng’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “You’re a thoughtful young man, and you’ve been through more than I can imagine. I just hope that you find someone that cares for you as much as you care for them. You deserve that— and much more.”

Dan Heng had subconsciously been wringing the strap of his bag in his hands, unable to meet Mr. Yang’s earnest gaze. The heartfelt words were more than he was prepared to hear— deserved to hear. After learning of Dan Feng’s life, it was hard to reconcile who he is with the man who was and the trail of tragedies followed in his wake. Knowing that the members of the Express had heard it all, and were still willing to welcome him… it was more than he even dreamed. 

Mr. Yang smiles weakly at Dan Heng’s silence, seeming to take it as rejection. His hand slides off his shoulder. Dan Heng does not mention that he did not mind it. “I hope I was not too untoward, Dan Heng. That’s all I needed to say.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Yang.” Dan Heng says, finally looking up, the side of his mouth quirked upwards. “I needed to hear that.”

The man looks dumb-struck by the positive response, but manages to maintain his composure, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. “Of course. I trust you to make the right decisions, but tell us if you need anything, OK?”

Dan Heng nods. “Okay.” 

They wave goodbye before Dan Heng sets off in the direction of the Seat of Divine Foresight. 

But not before he passes by March hiding behind a plant giving Mr. Yang a pair of thumbs up. 

When the doors to the Seat of Divine Foresight close with a final creak, Dan Heng thunks his forehead against its cool surface. He takes a deep breath, attempting to calm his heart. 

Dan Heng had hoped to eliminate as many factors as possible to avoid a Mara episode. So, after wishing him luck, Jing Yuan promised to wait outside, ready in the event Dan Heng calls for him. 

He merely wishes to relieve the anxiety leaking beneath his skin and get rid of these antlers, either in seeking an armistice with Blade, or in gaining the answers he’d sought for so long. Both would be a miracle, but Dan Heng is trying his best to be realistic. 

He’s considered that Blade simply wouldn’t want to show up— he has no real reason to. In that case, he can only trust that Kafka held up her end of the deal, using that voice of hers to force him to come. Dan Heng, however, frowns at the idea. 

He goes to sit near the top of the stairs, too wired to sit down on the couch and too mentally drained to stand. As he does, he gazes out at the xiàngqí board. 

He briefly considers calling in Jing Yuan to pass the time. Kafka hadn’t given him a time frame, meaning he could be waiting for a few minutes or a couple system hours. Upon further consideration, however, he discards the idea. Dan Heng hasn’t touched a board in this lifetime. Jing Yuan would check him in a few moves. The game would be as entertaining as watching tea steep.

As he debates another form of entertainment, cold steel presses against his throat. 

Dan Heng suddenly inhales. He didn’t even hear him come in. 

“Are you wearing this form just to taunt me?” He says, voice gravelly, threateningly low.

Dan Heng swallows, the weight of the weapon firm against his skin. “...No.” He replies stiffly. 

The silence after seems to stretch for hours. Dan Heng’s mind races— his tone, did it bear the mark of Mara? The glow of his sword remains dull—  perhaps he was of his right mind? 

Eventually, he lowers his weapon. Dan Heng immediately lets out a tense breath, a bud of hope now forming in his chest. 

“Then, explain what you want, Dan Heng.” He spits, hissing his name with distaste. “I don’t have patience for games.”

Dan Heng shudders merely at the sound of his voice. The hairs on the back of his neck prickle. Goosebumps spread over his skin.  

He takes them as a sign of cowardice. “Despite everything, you still fear death, Imbibitor Lunae? How pathetic.”

Despite the threat, Dan Heng does not turn to face him. With it comes the tacit understanding that he could stab him in the back and walk away with little consequence. His cheeks are too warm, however, for him to reconsider. The feeling stirring in the pit of his stomach is not fear. 

He decides to change the subject. “How should I refer to you?”

The man sniffs, puzzled by the question. “Why does that matter.” He replies, matter of factly.

“I’ve… never asked.”

The red eyed man remains uncharacteristically quiet. Dan Heng gets the sense that he may just refuse to answer. “That woman,” He adds, morbid curiosity winning out. “She calls you… ‘Bladie’?”

Dan Heng gets unceremoniously whacked by the butt of his sword. He lets out a grunt of pain, clutching at the back of his head.

“Whatever Kafka told you, don’t believe her. She revels in her trickery.” 

Dan Heng rubs his head, considering what other lies she could have weaved in their brief conversation. 

“Ren.” He says, sitting down. He takes up the space on the stair next to him, arms-length away. 

“Huh?”

“Rèn. Written like dāo rèn, a knife’s edge.” Ren explains, although his patience seems to be waning.

“...Ren.” Dan Heng replies, testing the name on his tongue. “It’s nice to make your acquaintance.”

Ren doesn’t quite agree, growling under his breath. “You fight with his weapon and wield it no differently. You wear his face and demand I call you Dan Heng.” Something like anguish lurks in the scowl on Ren’s face. “Your foolishness seems to follow you, even in this ‘life’. New names mean nothing, Imbibitor Lunae.”

Dan Heng cannot help but meet the harsh glare of his glowing red eyes, bubbling with barely concealed hatred and a hunger to…

To what?

He turns away, trying to slip back under the waves. Running away. “I have no interest in conflict with you.” He says, studying his hands. “I only seek answers.”

Ren scoffs, a mockingly laugh dribbling from his lips. “A foolish endeavor. Answers will not change our past sins. We must face retribution.” 

Our past sins?

So Ren knew the role he played in the Sedition— that he too was not entirely blameless. Then… to what end does he hunt Dan Heng for? 

Perhaps this was what Ren was confused by. 

“Dan Feng has already faced the punishment for his sins.” He explains, recounting Jing Yuan’s words. “He was forced into a molting rebirth against his will. The Preceptors ensured nothing of his past life was preserved— relics, memories— all of it was destroyed.” Dan Heng says, staring at his nails as he tries to parse through the feeling bubbling in his stomach. “There is nothing left of him.” He says bluntly. 

There’s a sharp squeal of Ren’s sword digging into pristine marble floors. Dan Heng flinches, both from the sound and from the mental apology he drafts for Qingzu. “Continue lying and I will have little reason to regard Elio’s future scripts with any reverence.” 

Dan Heng can almost taste the Mara rising in the air. His fingertips tingle, his heart beating loudly in his chest. 

Despite the threat of danger, Dan Heng only questions why Ren doesn’t believe him. His lips thin, the bubbling sensation suddenly sharpening to a fine edge. 

“Why did you think I called you here?” 

Ren taps the scabbard of his blade with a fingernail, sharp tinks of jade falling softly on his ears. “To tempt me with your heresy. To lie to me, and convince me to consume more of Shuhu’s fruit, only to commit a sin graver than my already pitiful existence.”

Dan Heng shuts his eyes and finds himself cursing the previous High Elder for his insolence. “And yet you still came?”

Ren’s mouth curls into a snarl, as if he were about to offer a sadistic rebuke. No words come, however.

Dan Heng can’t help the scoff he makes. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would I do that? Why would he do that?”

Ren, clearly not happy with his tone, still doesn’t budge. “I do not burden myself with the thoughts of demons.” 

”You… you’re a fool.” Dan Heng husks out, feeling oddly defeated. “He loved you. Whatever hate fantasy you’re playing out isn’t grounded in reality.”

Ren shoots him a look of betrayal, perhaps for knowing the fact at all. Or maybe for voicing a love that Ren had hoped would remain concealed. 

The sudden glimpse of vulnerability makes Dan Heng pause. He swallows down his harsh words, confused by the feeling that had come over him, of the sharpness stinging the edges of his mind. Dan Heng wasn’t the type to mince words, but he usually has more tact than this. 

“…I’m sorry.” Dan Heng says, sure that he’d overreacted, but not why. 

Now that Dan Heng sees it, he can’t ignore it— the pain simmering behind Ren’s veil of anger. 

The observation slips out before he can help himself, to probe where he is not welcome. “You can’t accept that he’s gone… can you?”

Ren twitches. “I do no such thing.” He says, but even Dan Heng can see his conviction waning, his grip tightening around his sword. 

It doesn’t make sense. His feelings don’t make sense. Ren doesn’t make sense. 

“Then why do all of this? You know I don’t remember anything. I’m not him.” Dan Heng says, addled by Ren’s behavior. “You’ve hunted me for years, to what end…?” He trails off, suddenly considering Ren’s behavior. That single minded drive to Hunt… that day on the ship, their battle at Dragonprayer Terrace… 

“But you’ve never let anyone else hurt me.” He says, the realization suddenly spilling out.

Blade doesn’t respond, staring silently at the ground. 

“Before Kafka, before the Stellaron Hunters, you would… Were you protecting me?” He chokes out, messy, jumbled feelings bubbling back up in his chest. “It wasn’t because of Elio, it was because…”

It doesn’t change Ren always trying to kill him himself, but his eyes, glittering with poorly concealed confusion, makes Dan Heng believe that maybe even he didn’t understand it. 

“You’re a fool if you believe I’ve been protecting you.” He manages to say, staring off at some far away point, but it doesn’t sound like he believes himself. 

“I’m not a fool.” Dan Heng snaps, miffed from how little Ren seems to see of him—  of Dan Heng. “You… you’re still in love with him. You see him every time you look at me.”

His gaze snaps to Dan Heng’s face, fixing him with a murderous glare. His glowing, red eyes latch onto Dan Heng’s soul again, threatening to tear it from his mortal shell. “Guard your mouth carefully, Dan Heng, or I may see that it never speaks again.”

The threat falls flat, coming from a man who’d offered him death once already, who’d confessed his devotion through his mired reaction. Instead, Dan Heng is baffled. Ren denies loving Dan Feng, and yet his words chafe against his very body, twitching in barely suppressed emotion. It’s as if he’d never considered why he chases Dan Feng’s after image with such vociferousness—  denying that it may have stemmed from a familiar instinct to protect. 

Dan Feng was forced into molting rebirth and left behind his lover to face everlasting life alone. And now the same man, punished with an understanding of good and evil, with the weight of the choices he made on his shoulders, now vows to extinguish their sins. 

But how can he, when Dan Feng is gone? 

“What else could it be? Are you so desperate for revenge that only you are allowed to kill me?”

“Are you so eager for it?” He hisses as he slowly gets up. “Ask me again, Imbibitor Lunae.”

Something in Ren begins to shift. Perhaps there is a beast lurking underneath his skin, something that isn’t Yingxing or Ren. Something worse.

But Dan Heng can’t help himself, his heart beats loudly in his chest, questions bubbling up in his throat. The feeling at the edge of his mind, eating at his heart, finally comes into clarity. Ah. 

Dan Heng is jealous. 

“Is this how you suppress your Mara?” He replies, sharp as nails, suddenly hit with a wave of pure jealousy— over a man who’s known nothing but bloodshed. “Ignore and forget everything? Do you run away from all of your—?“

Instead of an answer, Dan Heng is shoved to the ground. Ren presses his sword, blade still sheathed, ruthlessly against his throat. “You wear his crown.” He snarls, a bandaged hand shooting out to grab one of his antlers. Dan Heng immediately gasps, squirming from his harsh grip. The pressure sends an electric shock racing up his spine, a squirming sensation bubbling in his stomach. A moan slips from his lips. 

Ren does not acknowledge Dan Heng’s shuddering body, continuing to seethe in anger. “You, who awakened his power. You, who failed to pass the Dragon Heart on to the next High Elder. I have no qualms in risking the death of an innocent man to cleanse this world of our sins, but you are no innocent man.”

Dan Heng’s hands scrabble to try and tear his fingers off, but Ren merely shakes him by his crown. Dan Heng flinches, drawing a shuddery breath that doesn’t quite reach his lungs. 

“R-Ren! Stop!”

“Of five people, three must pay a price.” He chants. 

“Let go of m-me!” Dan Heng cries out, feeling as though his antler is about to crack. His breath quickens, and his gut squirms as Ren just squeezes even harder. “Please! I only want to leave this form!” He gasps, voice shaking with something nearing tears. “P-please…” He whimpers, his body flinching again from the harsh contact. “I just… want…”

The maniacal gleam in Ren’s eyes suddenly dims. He releases his grip, dropping Dan Heng to the ground with a dull thud. 

Dan Heng shivers, the buzzing in his head continuing despite the amelioration. It thrums through his body, leaving him feeling hot. 

“...You cannot leave this form?”

Dan Heng swallows the saliva pooling in his mouth, trying to ignore how his entire body feels sensitive to touch. Even the brush of silk on his skin makes him shudder. 

Ren nudges him with his foot. “I’m talking to you.”

Dan Heng can’t help but curl in on himself, breath coming fast. 

“Tsk.”  

Ren walks away, leaving Dan Heng feeling ice cold. But then a soft weight falls over him, and the scent of medicinal herbs and powder wash over him. 

“Dan Heng.” Ren calls to him, gravelly voice now anchoring him to reality. “I’m going to move you now.” The warning is brief, before Ren tucks him into his jacket and lifts him in the air. Dan Heng flinches from the sudden movement, prompting Ren to click his tongue at him again. “Stop struggling.” He mutters, walking him over to the couch, and setting him down with considerably less brutality. 

“You are deceptively fragile.” Ren mutters, squatting beside the couch and studying Dan Heng’s dilated eyes. “...So easily broken.” He adds. Strangely, Dan Heng does not hear a threat behind those words. 

Dan Heng does not know how much time passes before he comes back to himself. He finds his field of vision filled with Ren, half naked, studying him with interest. His blood red eyes no longer glow. 

Dan Heng’s mouth is suddenly dry, but he manages to rasp out, “You are… still here?” 

Ren sneers. “Did you wish I left?”

Dan Heng squints, inhibition yet to return. “No.” He admits, the answer coming far too easily. 

Ren’s frown deepens. “You are a strange man, ‘Dan Heng’.”  

The man in question coughs awkwardly and sits up. The black coat covering him slides off his shoulders, pooling in his lap. “Thank you.” He manages to say, unsure how else to acknowledge his sensitive crown. 

Ren considers him, something nearing pity and exasperation in his eyes. 

Dan Heng returns it with a baffled look, the sudden absence of Mara perplexing. 

Instead of an explanation, Ren asks him a question. “You are trapped in this form?” 

Dan Heng nods, but finds himself embarrassed by the show of concern. He does not meet Ren’s gaze, worried by the questions that may lurk within it. Dan Heng had been acting like a child, jealous over Ren’s attention of Dan Feng.

Why did he ask Ren for help? 

How could he admit that the man confounds him, leaving him with a sense of unease that cannot be easily defined? The heat in his body that he'd long believe to be fear? 

Instead, Dan Heng studies the pattern of bandages carefully wrapped around Ren’s torso. 

His left shoulder is pale and unblemished. There are no traces of the damage Dan Heng has wrought on his body, of piercing his heart with his blade. He touches his own shoulder, knowing he wouldn’t find any evidence of Ren’s doing either.

It eases something in his conscience, leaving more room for that bubbling feeling in his stomach. Whatever wounds each man has afflicted the other with, no signs of it yet remain. 

He admits the psychological scars are harder to ignore, but Ren humanized— a Ren without Mara, one who sighs at the poor grasp of his powers and drapes his coat over his shoulders— makes the idea easier to swallow. That he wasn’t always— isn’t— a mindless monster stalking his every move. 

Even if Ren had killed him once, Dan Heng can only think it an apt response after doing the same. 

Ren scoffs, voice cold. “Do you understand what you are asking?”

“What do you mean?” Dan Heng inquires, gaze flickering up for a moment before darting away again. The unease in his chest grows. Meeting Ren’s eyes for too long only makes something in his chest ache. 

“The Vidyadhara sometimes remedy this situation with meditation and cure-alls, and yet you come to me?” 

Dan Heng’s brow furrows, cynical suspicion slowly returning. “...What are you talking about?”

“You haven’t noticed it yet? The heat inside you, beneath your chilly countenance?”

“Huh?”

“I would have thought Jing Yuan helped you with your little problem.”

Ren pushes him down for the upteeth time, yet Dan Heng finds it is the first with cushioned pillows.

He inhales sharply, unwilling to revisit such a bloody affair, not after how far they’ve gotten. “W-Wait—”

“I am familiar with the other antidote for your little ‘problem’. It is a common, but low risk exercise for that of the Vidyadhara to regain control of the Cloudhymn.”

Dan Heng inhales sharply, fighting the blush rising into his face and ears as Ren leans closer. As if summoned, the ball of heat in his gut— not fear, nor anger, or a rushing thirst for blood— emerges with a searing heat for— for “What are you—”

“Sex, High Elder, is how many Vidyadhara self soothe.” He grabs hold of Dan Heng’s wrists and slams them above his head, leaving him gasping. “How brazen the High Elder must be to beg for pleasure. Must I count myself lucky?” Ren whispers in his ear, soft lips brushing against Dan Heng’s skin. 

Dan Heng shudders, awash with shame and heat. The warmth in his stomach begins to spread and an ache begins to grow between his legs. “R-Ren…” Despite his confusion, his body easily responds to his touch.

“Perhaps this was what you wanted all along.” Ren jeers, his other hand fiddling with his belt and  ripping the cloth from Dan Heng’s waist. Dan Heng cannot find any grief for the clothes he tosses away. “Oh, how I will defile you, Yinyue Jun.”

Ren’s words cause a pulse of wetness to smear his underwear. Dan Heng rubs his thighs together, trying to stifle his debauchery and salvage his dignity. “P-please don’t call me that.” He begs, turning his face away, but he doesn’t fight back. 

A bandaged hand wrenches Dan Heng’s chin over to stare back up at Ren. His grip is tight, gaze uncomfortably insistent. “Yet you shiver?” Ren questions, before slowly sliding his hand lower and cupping his clothed sex. His fingers find and exploit the spot of wetness, beginning to rub over it insistently. “Imbibitor Lunae.” Ren growls, deliberately disobeying him, grinding the palm of his hand harshly against his clit. 

Dan Heng cannot help the full body shiver that comes over him. Sparks of pleasure dance behind his eyes as Ren bends him to his every whim. He fights weakly against the tight grasp Ren has on his wrists, unable to tear himself away from the sensation. It feels nothing like worship, but holds all of its devotion, washing his body in vapid pleasure. 

Ren sucks hickies over his neck, nibbles at the tips of his ears, and brushes gently against his antlers. It’s as if muscle memory takes over, easily finding and exploiting every sweet spot hidden on Dan Heng’s body— ones even he was unaware of. 

Soon, Dan Heng’s is soaking the inside of his underwear, his neck marked like some common whore. Ren has slowed in his assault, now rubbing his thumbs insistently over the bumps on his chest. Dan Heng no longer resists, his fingers curled around the seat cushion below them as if it would help him suppress his moans. 

Ren’s fingers slide sweetly over his nipples, softened by his silk shirt. Dan Heng arches into his touch, the sudden pinching and pulling making him cry out in ecstasy. “P-please.” He begs, his core leaking, empty. There’s an ache deep inside him, an urge that bubbles in the pit of his stomach. 

“Yes?” Ren whispers, his raspy voice drawing pleasured shivers from Dan Heng’s body. 

“Ren.” He begs, voice high and airy. Ren ignores him, and dips his head to suck on one of his nipples, laving the cloth with wet, tender care. “Please…!”

“I’m here.” He replies, blowing gently against the wet cloth. The chill causes Dan Heng to shudder once more, now hyper aware of the buds on his chest, tingling with electricity. 

Rather than continue to argue, Dan Heng merely wraps his legs around his waist, attempting to press against the bulge he’s sure is there. 

Ren’s eyes glow for a moment, before he wrenches one of his legs free and tears off his underwear. Despite the chill of the outside air, Dan Heng’s cunt throbs with heat. He divests himself of his own clothes, before pushing one of Dan Heng’s legs up to his shoulder, his tight grip surely coloring the inside of Dan Heng’s creamy thighs a rich purple. His devilish smirk holds no clemency for Dan Heng’s aching core. “Tell me, Yinyue Jun, where do you want it?”

Dan Heng shivers from the way his voice caresses his name, the promise of defilement on his tongue. “I— I—“

Ren rubs himself over his hole and clit, spreading his wetness over his lips. “Here?” He whispers, leaving Dan Heng’s cunt shiny with his own slick. Dan Heng jumps at his touch, the barest pressure making him gasp. 

Before he begs for more, Dan Heng glances down, mouth parting in realization. As Ren thrusts again against his pussy, his cock slides over his lips and navel, the tip settling just below his belly button. Dan Heng swallows loudly at the sight of it, of how deep it would go inside him. 

He suddenly hesitates. “I-it won’t fit…” Dan Heng whispers, the flush on his face growing. His core still clenches despite his words, empty and aching for more.

Ren chuckles deeply in his chest, settling a hand over his stomach. “Are you so sure, Imbibitor Lunae?” He replies, the title like blasphemy on his tongue. He thrusts against Dan Heng again, smearing their collective wetness over Dan Heng’s belly. Dan Heng eyes flutter shut as he does, rubbing harshly over his clit. “Indulging in the pleasure of the flesh, surely something even the High Elder can do…”

Dan Heng rarely indulges in the ‘pleasures of the flesh’. A mixture of a lack of need, and for fear of being caught in the archives. But now, it’s as if every night he’d ignored it or was interrupted was distilled into a tsunami of desperate want. 

Dan Heng bites his lip, tempted by the flushed, red tip. 

Ren was long. That alone would have made Dan Heng hesitate, but the man was thick too. His manhood bends from the weight of his girth, veined and uncut. Dan Heng has not slept with many people, but he’s never taken something like this. 

The ache inside him grows, unable to keep his hips from their impatient writhing. “I…” 

Ren’s gloved hand rubs comfortingly against the back of one knee, while the other strokes his inner thigh, spreading Dan Heng’s legs to fit himself between them. Dan Heng’s flushed and spread sex cannot escape his view. 

“W-wait!” Dan Heng cries, covering his face in embarrassment. 

Ren studies it with amusement, before rubbing two fingers over the pink flower, pinching his clit before dipping inside, eased by how wet he’d gotten merely at the thought of being fucked. “Ren…!” Dan Heng cries out, clenching tightly around his gloved fingers. The leather was supple, but cold, making Dan Heng jolt and tighten around them. Ren presses his thumb against his clit, rolling the small nub as he spreads Dan Heng open, thrusting harshly inside him. “Ah…!” He cries, eyes beginning to water from frustration. 

“So wet… just for a glove.” Ren growls, the leather now shiny with his slick, squelching loudly as he thrusts inside him. Dan Heng hips start to meet his movements with little breathy gasps. His fingers were longer, thicker than his own. They reached deep inside him, to a place Dan Heng has never touched before, a burgeoning pleasure he couldn't escape.

But it’s still not enough. 

“Please!” He cries, a tear finally sliding over his cheek. Words bleed from his lips without much forethought beyond the ache inside him. “Inside— I need your cock!”

Ren’s face breaks into a smile. He slides his fingers out, and spreads Dan Heng’s slick over his cock, pumping himself as he studies the man beneath him, flushed and helpless. “Your hedonism knows no bounds, Yinyue Jun.” He rumbles with a self-assured smirk, gazing appreciatively as Dan Heng squirms in anticipation. “And so eager to accept me.” He whispers, lining up and beginning to sink into his heat. 

Dan Heng moans, unable to look away as the head of Ren’s cock spreads him wide, the insistent pressure almost painful. Dan Heng cries out as it suddenly pops inside, tossing his head back. “F-fuck!” 

Hands ghosts over Dan Heng’s arms, slipping into the gaps of his shirt to press against bare skin. Ren’s touch spreads goosebumps over his body as he hushes his whines. “This body has not forgotten my touch. Look at how you open up for me.”

“I-I’m not him.” Dan Heng whimpers, shivering as Ren moves, thrusting deeper into his core. His cock spears him open, laying him bare to raw pleasure. “Haah! Ren!”

“Yet you beg for my touch all the same.” He chuckles darkly, sinking even deeper. Dan Heng’s eyes roll into the back of his head as his length seems to go on forever, molding his cunt into his shape, soothing the ache inside him.

He can feel it throb inside him, his flesh searing hot. “Ah, Lan…” Ren groans, eyes shutting in pleasure as Dan Heng ripples around him, trying to accept his thick member. He groans, fucking Dan Heng open, soft and slick. “You’re soaking wet.” He rumbles, shifting his hips and, suddenly, Dan Heng’s body feels like a live wire. 

“T-there! Right there!” He cries. His flush traveling from his face, down to where they remain connected. The chill he’d felt under his skin all this time, now a strange memory. “Don’t stop!”

Ren obeys, grinding harshly against the spot that sends shivers up Dan Heng’s spine and pathetic whines spilling from his lips. The ball of heat at the base of Dan Heng’s stomach seems to burn red hot as Ren speeds up his thrusts, his balls slapping loudly against his ass.

“Ah, ah, ah!” Dan Heng clenches tightly around him, suddenly close to the edge. “I’m coming…!”

The man responds with a groan and begins to fuck him even harder, pummeling that tender spot with merciless precision. He latches onto Dan Heng’s neck, biting down as he comes inside him with a groan. Dan Heng feels his cock twitch, a spurt of heat blooming inside him. Ren moans as he comes down from the white-hot high, small, rabbiting thrusts pushing his seed deeper inside Dan Heng’s womb. 

“Yingxing!” Dan Heng cries as he comes around him, his cunt rippling around his cock. 

Ren recoils at the name, drawing back immediately. His cock slips out of Dan Heng, who whines from the emptiness, leaking his cum onto the silk cushion. 

Then, the doors to the Seat of Divine Foresight slam open.

Ren looks up to see the General of the Luofu, now a voyeur of their debauchery: of the Great Imbibitor Lunae, ravaged. His clothes are torn, sporting purpling bruises, held down by a criminal wanted by the IPC. 

Something dark and bitter churns in Ren’s chest. 

Jing Yuan’s expression quickly turns murderous. “You— !”

“Jing Yuan. Always late to the party.” Ren mutters, licking his lips. He tastes sweat and dried blood, feeling oddly victorious. 

“Since when were you some lowly lotus-eater?” Jing Yuan snaps, quickly crossing the room and drawing his guāndāo despite his lack of armor .  

Ren snorts, eyes glowing anew. “Don’t start. He begged for it.” He says, spreading his hand possessively over Dan Heng’s stomach.

“What do you think you’re doing.”

Ren ignores him and suddenly thrusts back into Dan Heng, who gasps as Ren easily sinks inside, finally fucked open. Dan Heng shakes, still sensitive from his orgasm. 

“Ren…” He whines, trying to squirm away from the intense pleasure. “I just… Mgh! Please..!” But Ren just drags him back by his hips, burying himself to the hilt. 

“Look at him. He’s insatiable.” Ren hisses, ignoring his cries, and presses down against his navel. Dan Heng lets out a whine as another blurt of cum leaks out of him, staining the couch cushion below with their release. “He needs this.”

Dan Heng finally makes eye contact with the General, and, suddenly, his face is hot. “D-Don’t look!” He tries to close his legs, but Ren just spreads him even wider, all for the General to see—  to understand how far his dear Imbibitor Lunae had fallen. 

Despite his efforts, his cunt shines in the light, flushed from the coupling, dripping with Ren’s cum. 

Ren rumbles with smug laughter. “You never thought to have a taste?”

The General inhales sharply, a blush high on his cheeks. “Show some respect, Yingxing.” He snarls, baring his teeth. 

Ren sneers and continues to lazily fuck into Dan Heng, who can’t help but meet his thrusts, the brutal slapping of skin and his moans echoing in the chamber. He covers his face, letting out muffled whines as Ren takes him apart again. “So you have, yet you deigned to let him suffer alone?” Ren taunts, swiveling his hips, prompting Dan Heng to cry out.

“Jing Yuan…!”

The General freezes, Dan Heng’s breathy voice curling around his name like fine silk. 

“He’s calling your name, Jing Yuan.” 

Jing Yuan’s eyes zero in on Dan Heng’s face, who gazes over at him with flushed cheeks and hazy eyes. 

“J-Jing Yuan.” He whimpers again, a seductive groan slipping past plush lips as Ren bottoms out, grinding harshly against that spot again. Even through hazy eyes, Dan Heng can see the desire in the General’s gaze, settling heavily over his form. “Ah! H-help me…”

Jing Yuan’s eyes darken. As if hypnotized, he drops his weapon and ascends the stairs to where Dan Heng is spread open. 

Ren laughs again. “You’re no better than me, lotus-eater.” He mutters in the same tone of disdain.

Ren keeps rolling his hips, fucking little mewls out of Dan Heng’s mouth, but, when Jing Yuan dips his head to kiss him, he swallows all of his noises. 

The act is filled with want. Warm, calloused hands curl around the back of Dan Heng’s neck, his fingers slipping through his dark tresses. Jing Yuan’s tongue sweeps into his mouth, tasting him, consuming him. It makes Dan Heng’s head spin.

Dan Heng finally allows his hands to wander, running them down his chest, pressing against linen and the promise of firm muscle beneath. Jing Yuan smells of oolong tea and sandalwood; his hair, soft and silky. As his tongue sweeps into his mouth, Dan Heng thinks he tastes like everything he’s desired and more. 

Distantly, Dan Heng hears Ren click his tongue, before he gives him a particularly harsh thrust, the heat blooming inside him once more.

He pulls away to gasp, thrashing as Ren buries himself between his folds, forcing himself past puffy, red lips as Dan Heng’s orgasm starts to build again. 

Jing Yuan shoots Ren a pointed look, which he returns with a raised eyebrow. “He prefers it rough.” Ren mutters, his point illustrated by Dan Heng chanting, “Yes, yes, yes!”

Before Jing Yuan can huff in disappointment, Dan Heng’s tail curls around his leg, tugging him closer. “Jing Yuan…” He whispers, pressing a hand over the tent in his pants. “Let me take care of you.”

Shaky fingers find and pop the button of Jing Yuan’s pants. The man steps closer, gently cupping the back of Dan Heng’s head as he leans in. When Dan Heng tugs his pants down, Jing Yuan’s cock springs out, already flushed and hard, curling towards his stomach. Dan Heng licks his lips, gratified by his size. He’s not as long as Ren, but, as Dan Heng wraps his fist around the base, he finds him to be even thicker. 

He glances up at Jing Yuan for permission, biting his lip in anticipation. 

The General still seems torn, wrinkles appearing under his eyes. Dan Heng tentatively strokes him once, twice. His breath hitches, watching him attentively with half-lidded eyes. “Dan Heng…” He whispers, unable to help the twitch in his hips as Dan Heng tightens his grip. 

His tail, still coiled around Jing Yuan’s leg, tugs him even closer. Jing Yuan goes obediently, inhaling sharply as Dan Heng parts his lips, pink tongue outstretched, and guides him into his mouth. 

Jing Yuan doesn’t look away for a moment as the head of his cock runs over the length of Dan Heng’s warm and wet tongue. Dan Heng’s eyes flutter, the taste of salt and sweat heady on his palate. 

Another brutal thrust from Ren shoves Dan Heng further up the couch, and suddenly, Dan Heng is choking on his cock. Jing Yuan gasps, grabbing onto one of Dan Heng’s antlers for stability.

Dan Heng moans loudly around him, the jolt of electricity leaving him shuddering in Jing Yuan’s grip. “I-I’m sorry.” He whispers, and moves to draw away, but Dan Heng’s hands curl around his pants, holding his hip tight against his face. “Ngh! Dan Heng…!”

Jing Yuan’s grip around his antlers tightens. Dan Heng’s eyes roll into the back of his head, moaning loudly as he gags around him. Drool dribbles past his lips as he tries to swallow around him, making Jing Yuan’s breath stutter. The General’s musky scent overpowers his senses, and his mouth, stretched wide around his girth, leaves his jaw aching. 

He feels full. He feels used. 

Dan Heng whines, the heat in his gut and the chill in his chest waring for dominance.

“He gets tight when he’s close.” Ren says, having slowed his assault to observe Dan Heng’s lips spread wide around the General’s length. The sight of the smaller man spitroasted by their members makes heat gather in the bottom of his stomach. “Don't stop.”

“...That would be—”

Ren sneers at him. “Jing Yuan.” Dan Heng peers up at the General, eyes teary and red, breathing harshly through his nose. “Choosing to do nothing again?”

Dan Heng pulls off him with a pop. A string of saliva stretches from his lips to the tip of Jing Yuan’s flushed, red cock, something the General eyes with poorly hidden interest. His warmed skin cools in the night air, his gut tightening at the sight before him. Dan Heng sticks out his pink tongue, mouth wide open, and gazes imploringly at the man above him. 

Jing Yuan swallows loudly, a bead of sweat running down his temple. 

He tugs on Dan Heng’s hands to wrap around his waist. “Tap my leg if it’s too much.” He whispers before he eases himself into Dan Heng’s mouth, running his fingers through his hair, and grabbing onto his antler again.

“Mngh!” Dan Heng groans, the jolt of electricity going straight to his cunt, tightening around Ren who responds with an appreciative groan. 

Jing Yuan starts gently, as if mollifying Dan Heng with his cock. He tentatively pushes deeper into his mouth, murmuring encouragement and praise when Dan Heng suckles on the tip and rubs his tongue against the underside, hoping to taste the sweat on his skin. 

As Ren stokes a second orgasm between his legs, Dan Heng moans around him, causing Jing Yuan’s hips to jerk. Dan Heng moans only grow louder at this. 

Jing Yuan experiments with short, shallow thrusts, huffing out a breath as he watches his pink tip dip in and out of Dan Heng’s lips. His grip is still gentle, kind. 

Dan Heng’s grip on his pants tightens in turn, dragging his hips forward to sink even deeper into his mouth. 

“W-Wait— Dan Heng…!”

Despite the General’s gasps, Dan Heng gazes begs him for more. 

Something inside him snaps. Jing Yuan suddenly starts fucking Dan Heng’s face in earnest. His tight grip around his antlers holds him in place as his hips slap against his face. His cock distends Dan Heng’s throat, fucking into the hot, wet cavern. But the man still lovingly brushes back his bangs, watching attentively as his lover chokes on his thick, veiny cock.

The two of them speed up their thrusts, jostling Dan Heng between them. His head starts to feel fuzzy as he’s tugged, groped, and fucked at their leisure. He cannot escape the pleasure, forced to take it all. It’s all he’s good for. 

“W-where do you want me to…” Jing Yuan grunts, suddenly close. Dan Heng’s hands drag him forward, burying his nose into the base of Jing Yuan’s cock, thick, wiry hair poking his face. He swallows around him, his throat massaging the tip. Dan Heng’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he gags around Jing Yuan. 

Jing Yuan groans, hips stuttering as he shoots down Dan Heng’s throat, some of it spilling from his lips. He doesn’t let Jing Yuan draw away until he swallows the rest, the man gasping as he’s milked dry by Dan Heng’s mouth. 

When Jing Yuan pulls away, Dan Heng sucks in a breath, panting and light-headed, tasting salt on his tongue. 

“Finally.” Ren mutters, now speeding up his thrusts. The ache deep inside his cunt reignites into raw pleasure, and Dan Heng squirms on the couch as Ren thrusts unerring against that spot inside him. He moans wetly against Jing Yuan’s cock as Ren brings them both to a sudden completion. They cry out in ecstasy together as he buries himself deep inside, dumping another load into Dan Heng’s cunt.

Ren pulls out slowly this time, watching closely as Dan Heng’s reddened lips twitch around him, clinging to his length. “Lan, you take it so well.” He mutters to himself as he possessively observes his release, having foamed up around Dan Heng’s lips. As he slips out, Dan Heng gasps, his hips twitching in the night air. 

When a white glob of cum leaks out from his hole. Ren’s gloved hand swipes it up before it can stain the cushion and harshly shoves it back inside. “Can’t be making even more of a mess, Imbibitor Lunae.” He tuts. Dan Heng jumps, whining pitifully as he continues to noisily fuck him with his gloved hand, pushing his release deeper inside his sensitive hole. “You’re not allowed to waste a single drop.” Ren growls. His harsh, speedy thrusts bordering on painful after his second orgasm. 

“H— ah! I just—Ren!”

Eventually, Ren slips out his fingers, wiping them off against Dan Heng’s shaking thighs, speckled with bruises and cum. 

“He still has his horns.” He says, glancing at the General and gesturing towards Dan Heng. 

Instead of partaking in the feast before him, Jing Yuan’s hand firmly grabs onto Ren’s arm.

Ren's eyes narrow, the churning in his chest returning. “What?” He asks darkly. 

“I…”

Ren braces himself for Jing Yuan’s chiding again and tries to tug his arm back. 

Jing Yuan's eyes pinch at this, but he decides to throw caution to the wind and plants a searing kiss on his lips. 

Ren nearly falls back in shock, but Jing Yuan doesn’t let him, cradling him close. He quickly deepens the kiss, tilting his head to taste the man on his tongue. 

“Yingxing…” He whispers, parting from his lips. “You too still have a place in my heart.” He presses his forehead against his, gazing intently into his eyes. “Do not forget that.” 

Ren sucks in a breath, dizzy from his caress. “...Jing Yuan.” He says, his voice, for once, uncertain. “You are too quick to act. Restrain yourself, and your heart may remain whole.” 

“I have lived far too long to worry about wholeness. Destiny has been kind to me— it has brought my dearest loves to my bed. I only hope to relish what time they care to spend with me.” 

Ren’s confusion quickly turns to anger— for his uncharacteristic and reckless abandon, and a choice— made far too late— to finally fight for something. He shoves Jing Yuan down onto the couch, as if to test his resolve. “You were always a reckless boy.” He spits. 

“It got your attention, didn’t it?” Jing Yuan replies with a mischievous smirk, offering Dan Heng a glimpse of a younger, more foolhardy man. “Dan Feng was not the only one who held my affections.” He adds brazenly, fingers ghosting against Ren’s cheek.

“Then let me teach you a lesson in temperance.” Ren snarls, nearly tearing the cloth buttons from his shirt in his efforts to undress him. Jing Yuan volunteers his own hands, shoving his pants away as Ren roughly tugs his shirt off his shoulders. 

Jing Yuan laid bare is more magnificent than Dan Heng’s private approximations. Ren reveals swaths of fair skin and rippling muscle. He is shockingly hairless, aside from a carefully groomed treasure trail.

Ren pins him down again, the show of force stirring something in Dan Heng’s gut. 

Curious hands grope at Jing Yuan’s chest. “You’ve grown well, Jing Yuan.” Ren says appreciatively, squeezing the muscle.

The red dusting on Jing Yuan’s cheeks pairs well with the soft smile on his face. “I am eager to please.” He whispers, tugging Ren closer to draw him into another deep kiss, guiding his other hand to grope the other side of his chest. Dan Heng, still dazed from his orgasm, watches as Jing Yuan slips his tongue into Ren’s mouth, while Ren fondles his chest with glee.

The two men explore each other’s bodies fervently, cupping and groping newfound skin and muscle. Eventually, Ren’s fingers wander further south, slipping off Jing Yuan’s pants, and pressing his thumb against the furl of skin beneath his cock. 

“Yingxing.” Jing Yuan breathes, chest tight with apprehension. 

Ren clicks his tongue, ignoring his old name, and licks his fingers, before coaxing open his hole. 

“You’re tight, Jing Yuan. Take a deep breath.”

Ren slowly pries him open, slipping a finger inside and fucking it in and out. 

“Forgive me… it is a strange sensation.” Jing Yuan admits with a slight cringe while Ren works him up to three fingers. As Ren opens up Jing Yuan’s ass, Dan Heng’s own fingers drift lower, rubbing teasingly over his clit and sliding under his shirt.

“Ah!” 

“You’re sensitive.” Ren observes, a whisper of a smirk on his face. 

“W-what did you just— Mngh!”

Ren finds and bullies Jing Yuan’s prostate, the man twitching and tensing from the constant pressure. When he slips his fingers out, Jing Yuan’s hole winks back at him, aching and empty. 

Ren clambers over him, pressing his cock against his ass. “Take a deep breath.” He instructs lowly, before slowly sinking into his hole. The General’s mouth drops open as he rolls his hips, clinging tightly to Ren’s shoulders as the larger man shifts closer, easing himself inside inch by inch until his hips press against the swell of his ass.

“Good.” He rumbles, and there’s another surge of wetness in Dan Heng’s cunt. “You’re taking it all so well, Jing Yuan.” 

The line of praise is all it takes for Jing Yuan to come untouched, splattering his release over his abs with a shudder. 

Ren slows his thrusts, gently rolling his hips and relishing in the sharp gasps his movements draw from Jing Yuan’s lips. “Haven’t done it recently?”

Jing Yuan shakes his head, body now loose and eyes glassy. “I’ve never… Ngh…”

Ren’s eyes flash with sudden hunger. “Never?”

Jing Yuan shakes his head again. “I never wanted to— Ah!”

Ren thrusts inside again, his asscheeks bouncing from the force. ”Then you wouldn't mind another test drive?”

Jing Yuan’s cock is still soft against his belly, twitching weakly from oversensitivity. “I don't know if I can—”

Delicate fingers wrap loosely around Jing Yuan’s cock, running tenderly up and down his length. His touch is featherlight—  teasing, wet with its own slick. 

“Dan Heng…” Jing Yuan murmurs as the man slowly eases him back to hardness.

Dan Heng licks his lips, tasting Jing Yuan’s seed on his tongue. “Let me just…” He whispers, staring lustfully at the General’s cock, before pushing back his hair and dipping his head once more.

Ren rolls his eyes at the sight, before beginning to thrust into Jing Yuan again, mercifully avoiding his prostate.

The General groans, an orgasm still far out of reach. But, as Dan Heng’s lips slide over him again and again, arousal begins to curl in his gut. Each thrust of Ren’s hips sends sparks skittering over his skin, while Dan Heng’s throat massages his half-hard length, hoping to taste his release again. 

Dan Heng suddenly feels hands around his hips before his waist is dragged onto Jing Yuan’s face.

Dan Heng slides off of his cock, peering at Jing Yuan from his over shoulder.

The General smiles reassuringly at him. “Sit down on my face,” he requests politely. 

Dan Heng bites his lip. The mere brush of Jing Yuan’s breath against his sex was enough to make him shiver. The promise of those lips on him…

Dan Heng slowly lowers his hips, respectful of his weight, yet hoping to soothe the warm ache inside him.

A hot tongue laps between his lips, spreading saliva over his cunt and drawing roughly over his clit. Dan Heng lays his face down on Jing Yuan’s hip, sucking in a breath as his tongue slides in deeper. 

The prior brutality of Ren’s cock makes Dan Heng all the more sensitive to Jing Yuan’s tender tongue. As he presses inside, it fondles his walls, tasting his slick and Ren’s release. He thrusts his tongue, taking Dan Heng’s pathetic grinding and whines in stride. 

Even Dan Heng’s skin feels sensitive and hot when he eases out to flick the tip of his tongue over his clit. 

“Jing— Ah—!” He cries, as his lips wrap around the clit and sucks. 

Dan Heng can't keep his hips still as Jing Yuan eats him out, his nose digging into his perineum, breath hot on his hole. He just takes and takes and takes. 

Suddenly, there are fingers digging into Dan Heng’s hair, lifting his head, and pressing his open mouth against Jing Yuan’s cock.

“Forgetting something?” Ren rumbles.

Dan Heng coyly looks up at Ren as he opens his mouth. He wraps a fist around Jing Yuan’s cock before drawing his tongue along his length, peppering kisses over the veins that decorate it. Ren smiles at the sight, petting his head as Dan Heng suckles on Jing Yuan’s cock.

Jing Yuan moans against him, drawing vibrating groans from Dan Heng’s own lips, now wrapped tightly around his tip. Dan Heng savors the droplet of precum that bubbles up from his slit, sucking on the head, hoping for another taste. 

Ren grunts, his hips slapping loudly against Jing Yuan’s plush ass. “So tight.” 

Ren runs his fingers through Dan Heng’s hair, roughly shoving him down to choke on Jing Yuan. “Good boy.” He whispers, sinking deep into Jing Yuan’s ass, the semi-dry fuck sizzling somewhere between pain and pleasure.

The two of them moan from the praise. 

Dan Heng comes first, shuddering as Jing Yuan’s tongue fucks him with abandon. He pops off Jing Yuan’s cock with a gasp, humping Jing Yuan’s nose and mouth as he fucks him through it, a gush of wetness coating his nose and mouth. 

In return, Dan Heng wraps a fist around Jing Yuan’s cock, now hard and leaking, to jerk him off, movement slick with Dan Heng’s spit and his own precum. Jing Yuan groans around his cunt as Ren grinds against that spot inside him, sharp, deep thrusts that finally push him over the edge, spurting his release over Dan Heng’s face. 

Ren watches this with a bitten off groan, and pulls out to cover Dan Heng in his own spend. 

Eventually, Ren rolls off of Jing Yuan, settling at his side with a huff. Dan Heng nuzzles Jing Yuan’s flaccid cock, before the General playfully spanks him.

“Have some mercy, Dan Heng. I am but a man.” 

Dan Heng gasps from the blow, and coyly looks over his shoulder at the two men, sweaty and studying him with puzzled looks. He runs his tongue over his lips, tasting the strings of cum the two men had left on his lips. 

Jing Yuan breaks the silence first. “He’s still…”

“This case is rather extreme.” Ren rasps, blowing some hair out of his face. The two of them eye the top of his head. He reaches up, and finds his antlers were missing. “You don’t know how to manage your yin and yang energy, do you?” 

“I…” Dan Heng frowns as he sits up, suddenly hyper-conscious of the warring heat in his gut and chill in his chest. “Is that what I’ve been feeling?”

Ren slides a hand around Dan Heng’s neck, thumbing his still-pointed ears. His other hand presses against his navel, as if touching the warmth inside him. “Your yang energy is unstable. That's why it feels so hot here.” Despite the clinical voice, Dan Heng can’t help the thrilled pang he feels from the pressure. "You always came to me when that happened."

“Yes, but it also feels…” Another pair of hands settle over his chest, the sensitive skin twitching from their touch. 

”Chilly?” Jing Yuan chimes in, the side of his mouth twitching upwards. 

“How did you know?” Dan Heng asks, wide-eyed and curious. 

Ren snorts. “Sneaky as always, Jing Yuan.”

His confused look earns him a few strokes over his chest as Jing Yuan patiently explains. “Long-life species on the Xianzhou are trained from birth to manage their yin and yang— usually through meditation and exercise. Many healers espouse the importance of balance in order to combat the onset of Mara.” 

Ren clicks his tongue, annoyed for reasons that are beyond Dan Heng. “You’ve gone far beyond the basics to be able to manipulate other people’s energy, Jing Yuan.” 

“I merely offered a little external tuning with my own yin energy. It’s what any person would do if they sensed such a powerful cacophony of it.” 

Ren mutters something under his breath that Dan Heng does not hear, returning Jing Yuan's placid expression with a heavy frown. 

“But... sex is what will fix my… uh…?”

”Yes.” Ren says rather emphatically, joined by a hesitant nod from Jing Yuan. 

“As it would seem.” The General adds. 

Ren huffs, a deep wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows. “We have to finish this. If not, he'll be even more out of balance.” He says to Jing Yuan. “We should always try putting in both—” 

“Yingxing.” Jing Yuan cuts him off, righteous disappointment coloring his voice. 

Despite his authoritative tone, Ren still flicks Jing Yuan in the forehead. “Don't call me that.” He snaps, still used to a much younger, brasher Jing Yuan. “Before, he fucked me with abandon for hours. It would be a mercy, Jing Yuan.” 

Jing Yuan replies by pressing a cushion over Ren’s face, his own face flush with a loss in composure. Little phases the Sleeping General. Dan Heng imagines it was the image— of Yingxing, held down by Imbibitor Lunae as he rode him into the mattress, the man whining and begging him to slow down— that broke him. 

Dan Heng does not have that particular memory, but that doesn’t stop his mouth from watering at the idea.

“Must we resort to sex? Surely there are other ways.”

“Leave if you wish.” Ren says, shoving the cushion out of his face with an irritated huff. “But it's worse since he’s been ignoring it all these years. I’m surprised he didn't take advantage of someone else by now.”

“Who said I haven’t?” Dan Heng cuts in, feeling true irritation for the first time in a long time. Generally for being stumped by something he shouldn’t have been expected to know, but also due to the bickering fools before him. “I’m not a blushing virgin.”

The question breaks their stare down, now shooting to Dan Heng and his bare countenance. 

Ren scoffs, discontented, albeit, glaring, not at Dan Heng's face, but at his body. “They clearly left you unsatisfied, Yinyue Jun.” 

Jing Yuan considers him with that placid look again, but something murky dwells in the depths of his eyes. While Ren mutters something about cleaning up someone else’s mess, Jing Yuan wraps a hand around his calf, his gentle strokes bordering on ticklish. 

“Where did they touch you?” 

“Huh?” Dan Heng whispers, feeling his skin prickle. Jing Yuan’s gentle touch immediately takes the wind out of his sails. 

“Tell me.” Jing Yuan whispers insistently, leaning down to ghost a kiss against his skin. “I’ll worship every inch of your body and replace their memory.” 

Dan Heng’s lips part, his body shuddering from the threat of pleasure in his voice.

Perhaps Dan Heng takes too long to answer, but Jing Yuan’s kisses slowly creep downward. “Was it here?” He asks, his long fingers tracing the bones in his ankle, the top of his foot. “Or…” His breath brushes against the bottom of his foot. 

Dan Heng shudders, whispering, “G-General, there’s no need to…”

Jing Yuan’s laugh rumbles in his chest and draws away as requested. “Fine. But…” He rolls Dan Heng over and tucks his legs around his hips. “Allow me to pleasure you once more.” 

Red dusts Dan Heng’s cheeks, and the heat in his gut simmers beneath his chilly skin. He looks away before replying, “But… what about… the both of you?”

Ren and Jing Yuan look at each other, and then back at him. 

Ren’s wolfish smirk hides none of his hunger. Jing Yuan’s Adam's Apple bobs, clearly imagining what it must feel like to have sex with the High Elder— tight, wet, skin on skin— but, still, the thinnest edge of restraint lingers in his gaze. 

“Dan Heng… are you sure this is what you want?”

They both wait for his answer, Jing Yuan out of an earnest want for confirmation, and Ren with mild exasperation. 

Dan Heng bites his lips, his sexed out brain briefly considering the consequences of both of them fucking him at once. 

The two of them were hard once more, their lengths arching high towards their stomachs. The thought of taking them both makes Dan Heng shudder, but it leaves him with a sense of rightness that’s long since eluded him. He doesn't remember when it started, only that he was sure they could fix it. Being held between the two of them, caressing his body and bringing him pleasure... Perhaps this had been the answer he was seeking on the Luofu. 

Dan Heng nods meekly, and the two men’s gazes darken. 

“You’re not allowed to change your mind.” Ren warns, tugging him into his lap. “I won't stop.” 

“Dan Heng.” Jing Yuan husks out, his restraint quickly deteriorating. “Are you sure?”

”I’m sure.” Dan Heng whispers back, looking at the General from under his eyelashes. 

“Then it’s settled.” Ren replies, finally shucking off his gloves and swiping a finger over his wet cunt, before pressing his thumb against the tight furl of his ass. 

Dan Heng gasps as he massages his asshole open, groaning as he quickly dips the tip of his thumb inside. 

“You're even easy here.” Ren growls as he slowly fucks a thick finger in and out of his hole. “Your body was made for this. Made to be fucked.” 

Dan Heng rocks back against his hand, eyes fluttering as he focuses on the strange sensation of being spread open.

“Good, Dan Heng.” Jing Yuan coos, as another long, thin finger sinks into his ass. The two of them thrust in and out of him, eased by his slick. Once they open him up with four fingers, they line up their cocks. 

Ren presses the head of his cock into his tight entrance, the tip flaring his hole wide before enveloping him. Jing Yuan gives him no time to adjust before dipping into his wet cunt, smoothly sinking inside. 

“So— big!” Dan Heng thrashes around, whimpering around the combined girth of their members, as they fill him and spread him wide. 

Ren curls his hand around Dan Heng’s neck to steady him, the weight making his cunt throb around the General. He tightens his grip briefly, guiding Dan Heng’s gaze to Jing Yuan’s. “Look at him.” Ren whispers. Dan Heng obeys, watching the General hunch over him as he starts to rock his hips inside. “If you keep whining like a whore, Jing Yuan will blow his load inside you.”

Jing Yuan groans in response, eyes tightly shut, trying not to come. But the wet tightness undulating around him breaks his rhythm. His lower lips were so much tighter than his mouth, sucking him in, as if begging for his seed. 

Jing Yuan continues his stuttering thrusts, while Ren easily bounces Dan Heng in his lap, forcing through his virgin asshole's unforgiving tightness. His laugh rumbles against Dan Heng’s back. “You got so tight at the idea, you little minx.” Ren murmurs. Dan Heng responds with a pitiful moan, trying to catch his breath as he’s spread wide to two different rhythms.

“Jing Yuan,” Ren says, turning to the General. “Thrust upwards.”

The General opens one eye to peek at him, trying to read Ren’s overly confident smile as he catches his breath. After a brief glance at Dan Heng, he obeys, driving suddenly into Dan Heng’s soft spot. With how thick Jing Yuan is, Dan Heng isn’t able to escape his harsh grinding and thrashes in their grip.

“Jing Yuan! W-wait!" Dan Heng keens, shaking from the overwhelming sensation.   

“Don’t stop.” Ren instructs, as he and Jing Yuan begin to match their rhythms. For each cock that pulls out, another thrusts inside, always leaving Dan Heng filled with throbbing heat. He gasps in their arms, rippling around them. A hand creep up and begin to foddle his chest. 

“Ren, not—  not there—!” Dan Heng whines, shifting back and forth to avoid his near painful pinching. But the man merely tightens his grip around his throat, choking him, and digs a nail harshly into his nipple. “Gugh!"

Jing Yuan catches and tugs his wrists forward, continuing to fuck against his soft spot with absolute precision, brow furrowed in focus. “That’s it… good boy.” Ren praises, his warm breath whisking past Dan Heng’s ear. Dan Heng gasps for air, trapped between the two of them as Jing Yuan slowly takes him apart, and Ren leaves him breathless. 

“Jing—Yuan!” Dan Heng chokes out. “I-it’s too much!”

“Don’t listen to him.” Ren growls before the General can hesitate, causing Dan Heng to shudder. The two men groan as he tightens around them again. “Roll your hips.” Ren grunts out, gripping Jing Yuan’s ass and guiding his thrusts. 

Sweat beads on Jing Yuan’s forehead as he obeys, fucking into Dan Heng with long, deep strokes. Ren doesn’t slow down either, forcing himself deeper inside Dan Heng’s tight, sensitive walls. 

”I’m… Yingxing,” Jing Yuan groans, squirming as he feels the other man thrust inside Dan Heng. Between the tight wetness and the jostling brutality of Ren's cock, he's so close to the edge. “I’m going to—“

Ren’s grip tightens around Jing Yuan’s waist, dragging him forward. Dan Heng and Jing Yuan both gasp in response. Dan Heng’s cunt stretches wide around his thick base, his eyes rolling back from the feeling.

“Coming before the High Elder? I thought you were a gentleman.”

Jing Yuan shivers at the condemnation, his grip tightening around Dan Heng's purpling wrists.  

“Make him come first, Jing Yuan. I’ll reward you.”

Dan Heng can feel Jing Yuan throb hotly inside of him before he mumbles, “Yes, shīfù.” under his breath. His hips start to move again, now followed by grunts as Jing Yuan tries to push Dan Heng to the brink. 

Caught in a sudden wave of affection, Dan Heng cups his face. “Jing Yuan, kiss me.” He husks out, his bleary eyes focusing on his face.

The General bends down to seal his lips against his, swallowing down his moans and tasting himself on Dan Heng’s tongue. Their teeth clack together and drool slips from their tongues, but Dan Heng relishes in the taste, moaning into his mouth as the two of them take him.

Dan Heng feel’s Ren’s hand drifts lower, before roughly massaging his clit, sharpening Dan Heng’s pleasure to a fine point. 

He moans against Jing Yuan’s lips as he feels the pleasure crest. His holes twitch and tighten around them. The two men groan in unison as he comes, filled to the brim with their girths. 

The smaller man gasps as the two of them continue fucking him through his orgasm and out the other side. “W-wait! Too much!” Dan Heng whines, his hips shivering as the sensation fails to cease, edging into painful oversensitivity. 

Ren bares his teeth, eyes shut as he focuses on chasing his own orgasm, barely within reach. 

“Ah, ah, ah! Please!”

Jing Yuan peers at Dan Heng with more sympathy, as he rocks his hips to an easier rhythm. “Dan Heng…” He groans, huffing as Dan Heng tightens around him again. His thrusts slow, smoothened by slick. It’s no less intense for Dan Heng, who's eyes are beginning to water with tears as he rocks deep inside him. “You feel… hngh… so tight, Dan Heng.” Jing Yuan whispers, with half-lidded eyes. “So good for us.” He adds wistfully as he plugs him up with his cock. “Thank you.” Jing Yuan whispers. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He murmurs under his breath, eyes shutting as he grinds harshly against the entrance of Dan Heng’s womb before coming deep inside of him with a bitten-off cry.

Dan Heng gasps as wetness fills him again. Jing Yuan’s cock jerking inside him as his seed floods his womb. “Jing— Yuan—!”  

Ren’s hips slap sharply against Dan Heng’s ass, bouncing him in his lap. Dan Heng’s head lolls against Ren’s shoulder, huffing out small, breathy whines as he continues to fuck into him. 

“So good for me.” Ren growls, biting into his shoulder as he buries his hips deep inside, coming in Dan Heng’s ass. 

Dan Heng walls flutter around them, tight around their members. He can feel them twitch inside him, blurting out another little bit of semen. 

The two men huff, trying to catch their breath, and groan as Dan Heng wriggles on top of them, because he’s so close again, fucked right back into arousal.  

Before they can pull out, Dan Heng whines and grinds down against them. “I-it’s not enough. Ren, Jing Yuan— please.”  

His tail no longer swishes sensually over them, and his antlers are nowhere to be seen, but his eyes are still hazy, as blue as the sea. 

The two of them look at each other, before looking back at Dan Heng, eyes wet with unshed tears. 

Ren sighs and tucks his hair over his shoulder, while Jing Yuan brushes a chaste kiss against his lips.

They both oblige their High Elder. 

The Seat of Divine Foresight was, expectedly, closed the next day. 

As the sun began to rise, the three of them retired to the General’s private quarters. By the end of it, Dan Heng no longer hosted a hint of his traitorous, draconic form. Even his most dour expression seems to have been wiped away with a more placid look of calm. 

Dan Heng wakes with a stretch and groans from the soreness. The tenderness of his hips and wrist, the ache in his loins...

Jing Yuan’s voice is gruff with sleep— or sex, as Dan Heng fails to rule out— “Did you get the answers you were looking for?”

Dan Heng glances over at the Sleeping General, clearly having been observing Dan Heng’s sleeping form. The man seems even softer like this, his hair mussed up, surrounded by linen sheets. 

“No.” He says, studying how the morning sun washes his golden eyes in light. “But I have my theories.”

Jing Yuan hums to himself, mumbling a simple, “I suppose that is an answer in and of itself.”

Dan Heng nods, suddenly feeling shy. As he shifts, he feels something wet leak out of him. 

Jing Yuan perks up at his little gasp and draws closer, despite Dan Heng wanting to pull away from shame. 

“Are you hurt?”

“N-no.” Dan Heng manages to say in a high-pitched voice, suddenly self-conscious of the General’s closeness. The man hovers over him, his firm chest on full display. Dan Heng clears his throat. “I’m fine. Uh, where’s Ren?”

Jing Yuan frowns, but settles back down in bed with a sigh. “He left shortly before you woke. I asked him to stay, but he stated there was something urgent he needed to return to.”

“Ah.” Dan Heng says, unable to keep a tinge of disappointment out of his voice. “I see.” 

“Do not fret. He said he was open to seeing us again.”

Dan Heng nearly sits up in shock, but the bruises on his body keep his shock horizontal. 

“He… said that?”

Jing Yuan hums again, propping his head up against his fist. “Now, one must consider how I will respond to the appropriate authorities, when a known criminal is found in my bedchambers.”

It manages to draw a chuckle out of Dan Heng. “Make that two known criminals, General.”

“The only crime you’ve committed in my eyes is stealing my heart. I ask that you treasure it carefully.”

Dan Heng can’t help but be held by Jing Yuan’s insistent gaze, the man strangely serious despite his usual lackadaisical attitude.  “I…”

“I do not expect anything from you. I understand you have committed yourself to the Trailblaze, and I have no intention of— “

“No! I… I’ve.” He swallows, mouth dry from nerves. “I don’t want you to think that… that I have no intentions at all. I don’t want you to think I just used you for— “

Jing Yuan laughs and shakes his head. “I would have agreed, whatever the outcome. I’ve lived one life having seen you with another. I am more than willing to share in this one.” 

Dan Heng suddenly leans over Jing Yuan, and presses a chaste kiss against his lips. In the small space between them, he whispers, “Just… give me some time," and affectionately tucks a strand of hair behind the General's ear. "But, whatever you feel, I think I feel it too.” 

The General’s eyes were closed, as if he were savoring the brief warmth of Dan Heng’s lips. “I shall await your answer," he whispers back reverently, "For however long it takes.” 

Dan Heng drops forehead against Jing Yuan’s. “And… him?”

Jing Yuan's golden eyes open at this, crinkling in mischief. “He is always welcome in my bed. Or at tea. I have no qualms as to which.” 

Dan Heng laughs and slides back in bed to sidle up next to him. A warm arm wraps around him, settling them deep into the plush pillows of the General’s very comfortable bed. “That’s enough thinking for now. Now rest, my lotus.” 

Caelus looks up at the soft swish of the cabin door opening from the outside. 

Dan Heng meets his gaze, just as shocked to see them as they are to see him. 

“...What are you doing up so early?” He manages to ask gruffly. 

“You mean late? Sole Fox just came out and I’m trying to grind the campaign before Silver Wolf spoils me again.” 

A bag barely dangles from Dan Heng's arms, the man hunched over and walking veeeeeery slowly towards Caelus' side of the traincar. “...Caelus, it’s five in the morning.”

“It’s still yesterday if I haven’t fallen asleep yet.” They tut back quite obviously. 

As Dan Heng ponders a response to their philosophically rendered rebuttal, they notice how discheveled Dan Heng looks. His hair, normally artfully tousled, looks more like it went through a hurricane. His clothes are wrinkled, and he’s missing his arm brace. 

More importantly…

“Did you get... a haircut or something?” Caelus asks, tilting their head in confusion. “Something… seems different about you.” 

Dan Heng’s face turns paper white, before muttering a small thanks to Nous for the existence of stupidity. 

“Some people helped me find a way to leave the Imbibitor Lunae’s form.”

“...Okaaaaay.” Caelus says skeptically. They then point to his knapsack. “What’s in the bag?”

Dan Heng quickly hides it behind him, his normally impenetrable expression faltering. “I-it’s nothing.” He says, slightly backing away. “I’m going to my room now. Good night, Caelus.”

“...Weeeeird.” Caelus mutters to himself as the doors swish open and close behind Dan Heng. 

He asks March about it later. After all, girls understood this kind of stuff—  like if their friend was in a rough spot and needed to have some support. Caelus didn’t want to not worry about Dan Heng. That wasn’t what friends did, and Mr. Yang had been emphasizing that a lot more lately. 

Instead of her usually peppy, very girly and genuine response, she stands up and slams the table with both hands, spittle flying from her mouth, with a crazed look in her eye. 

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!”