If you were to tell me when you got hurt, I'd not have to worry about how hurt you might get. Since you are not telling me, I worry, and since I worry, isn't it my right to ask?
Wouldn't it be right for me to get to make sure I have no need to worry?
[Sure, he almost got his arm ripped off by a werewolf a while back, but Moiraine fixed him up remarkably well, good as new. He's fine.]
Do I not sound healthy?
[...But this is Xue Yang he's talking to. Xingchen already knows no answer he gives will be good enough. He's going to be stuck with this man forever.]
I am outside of the house to which I was assigned.
[He did invite him, thiugh it might have been out of defeat than a true desire for Xue Yang's company. Still, the deed is done, and Xingchen has to live his choices.
So Xue Yang will find him sitting on the ground outside the house with a little activity in front of him. He's found some sort of wooden plank and places it in front of himself. To his left is a small pile of paper, roughly talisman-sized, weighed down by a rock. In front of him is a box of stamps, and he takes one of the papers to stamp a certain character onto it. This is then taken to the right of him, where there is a small collection of drying talismans, all held down by more rocks. Thankfully the wind isn't rambunctious today.
He's been productive! And not hurting himself, thank you very much.]
[He's not sure what to say to that, because it seems like sarcasm, but sarcasm isn't really something Xingchen does. Still, he doesn't want to be caught out, so he simply moves his shoulders dismissively, accompanied by an equally gently dismissive sound. He's used to being around someone blind, after all.
Moving closer, Xue Yang takes a good look at those talismans, even crouching down to be closer to ground level.]
[Xingchen pauses in his work for a moment, in case Xue Yang has more to say. Old habits, he supposes, to keep listening, to give Xue Yang that much respect before going back to whatever he may do from day to day.]
The cleverness is not mine. These were carved by someone else.
[He raises a hand to run over the tops of the stamps.]
I never would have thought them up on my own.
[He creates another talisman, moving the freshly-inked paper to his right, when he feels his space running out. It makes him pause again, thinking, then he lifts his head toward where he thinks Xue Yang is. Maybe...]
[The sound of agreement comes without him having taken any time to think, before it registers. Part of him is used to Xingchen asking him for favours, but he remembers that, no. Not really. That part of him was the one Xingchen called friend.
He watches Xingchen carefully now, as if he could somehow gauge his exact mood, anticipate how best to respond.]
[He really does agree so readily. If Xingchen didn't know any better he could easily fall back into their old habits.
In a way, he's about to. But he could also simply use the help.]
Do you see how I've grouped certain talismans together? If they've dried, could you begin stacking them for me?
[He's taking a risk, he knows, to trust Xue Yang at all, but at the same time he thinks he's...safe. Hasn't Xue Yang said that Xingchen owns him? Not that that makes any of this normal or better. It's quite horrific, actually.
He still can't figure out why Xue Yang did the things that hurt him if he likes him so much. Is it even affection? He doesn't know. He can't make sense of it.
At the very least, though, Xingchen can make him useful and helpful, even for something so small as this task.]
[Xingchen doesn't move for a time, just listens until he recognizes the sounds of papers shuffling and another body beside him breathing just that much heavier. Xue Yang is doing as asked and without any fight.
Xingchen could so easily pretend this is still his nameless friend. There's a twinge in his chest at that. He's so foolish.
But he breathes in and out and carefully laid out his most recently-made talisman.]
There is nothing in particular prompting this. I just know it would be better for me to have a reserve than to try and create in the heat of things.
[He moves his head in understanding, but also accompanies it with a soft sound showing the same, used to being around someone who can't see. He's careful in the task, but it's easy enough, so soon he just waits for the recently-made talismans to dry, watching Xingchen.]
If you want any other symbols, I can carve a stamp. It's easy enough, so it's not too much of a bother.
[Xingchen pauses for a moment, then puts the stamp he had been using back in the box.]
That's right. You're good at carving things.
[Like people goes unsaid, but it's right there at the front of his mind. Maybe it's there at Xue Yang's, too. He doesn't want to bring that up, not when they're having...a somewhat peaceful time.]
I think A-Qing likes when you carve apples into little animals. I know she doesn't always say it.
[To carve people, sure, but he likes them in general. Likes them to carve apples, likes them to intimidate, likes them for everything they stand for in his life.]
There was a time, daozhang, can I tell you a story? Just a time where holding a knife or not holding one, it made all the difference.
[He laughs quietly to himself, shaking his head and finishing stacking the talismans.]
[Because it sounds like it could go dark places very fast and he's not convinced Xue Yang wouldn't tell of a time when he did something morally questionable.
But the question of stamps comes up again amd Xingchen breathes out. He's not really sure what else he could use, but he doesn't want to deny Xue Yang, either. It could upset him and make him do who knows what in retaliation.]
Maybe...a stamp for an explosive talisman. The enemies here are strange and dangerous.
[Getting to his feet, he begins walking around, until he's found a piece of wood that has a good shape. Then he sits down in front of Xingchen again, legs crossed. Having pulled out one of his knives, the sound of wood being carved can be heard.]
I don't know if you'd like the story. Would you rather tell me one instead, daozhang? I won't point out how boring it is.
[There is a teasing edge to his voice, gentle amusement. He means no real insult here.]
[Xingchen listens to the footsteps and other telltale signs that Xue Yang is getting to work immediately. This is almost relaxing. This is almost nice.
The request for Xingchen to tell a story instead makes him frown in thought. It's not that he hasn't had interesting experiences he'd like to talk about, but as he told Xie Lian some time before, they mostly involve Song Lan.
He misses Song Lan terribly and any stories with him would only make him miss his friend more. And then Xue Yang...well. He need not stir that particular pot.
But a story, any story...
Finally, he settles on something simple. And probably boring to anyone other than him.]
I remember the first time I saw a fox on the mountain. Or maybe not the first time, but one of them. I must have been six years old, maybe seven. Old enough to help around with all our duties. On that day I was helping pick some of the vegetables in our garden when I happened to look out toward the treeline. There it was. A splash of orange against the green, standing out so clearly. I thought it was beautiful.
One of the older disciples told me to ignore it and leave it alone while another told me to stay away because it could be a huli jing. I listened to them at first, and the fox showed up at the treeline a few more times, but then it stopped coming.
[As he carves, he listens, and there is a peacefulness to all of this that normally never settles inside him. Something inherent to Xingchen, or at least to the effect Xingchen has on him.
But then he frowns, tilts his head to the side and...]
...is that the end to your story, daozhang? What kind of story is that? It has a beginning and then nothing else of note.
[And then he's met with the usual frustrations. A small smile tugs at his lips, though.]
In a way, that's it. I didn't see a fox again for a while and it was probably a different one when I did.
But I was a curious child and nature running its course wasn't good enough for me. So one day I decided I would wake up extra early the next morning and investigate that treeline. And I did.
But then Shizun found me not long after. Maybe some of the other disciples told her I had been slacking in my chores or she just knew, but she told me not to get too focused on one thing. Because while I had been so worried about the fox I hadn't noticed the birds that made the trees their homes or the flowers that bloomed overnight. There was life all around me and I didn't see it.
[He starts to gather up the stacks of dry talismans, reaching into his sleeves to produce some string so he can bundle them up properly.]
Or maybe the birds doing what they do and the flowers doing nothing much either was just less interesting. A fox can be a danger, all the more if it's a huli jing. And a more rare sight, one you thought beautiful. Why waste your attention on things that matter less, when that one was enough to inspire you to keep looking? Did the flowers bloom less for it? Did the birds stop singing?
[Is there a moral to this story? He's not sure, but still.]
What do you notice now, daozhang? What would make you wake up early?
She was trying to tell me to keep an open mind, to not be distracted by something just because it is pretty or exciting. There is something valuable in everything.
[He ties the stacks together, brushing his fingers over the stacks to be sure of his work.]
I can't see any physical beauty anymore, but I can hear the birds more clearly than I ever did. If there is a garden I take comfort in the fragrance of the flowers. Maybe Shizun's lesson just hit a little too late for me.
...I still like people. I still want to help them, even if I've learned that so many are ungrateful or maybe unworthy of my time. If someone needs me, then that will always get me out of bed.
[Of course he'd think that, rolling his eyes with the sigh that makes it audible, shaking his head a little.]
So tedious, daozhang. The way you are.
[If he had stayed on the mountain, Xue Yang would not have ruined him. The world, Xingchen would not know what it's like. But what would Xue Yang be, if Xingchen had stayed on the mountain?
He does not have an answer.]
Stay in bed sometimes. I can go and help too, if they need something. People are always needy. You need to rest.
[There's that typical response. Any time Xingchen tries to be heartfelt like this, it's brushed off with no understanding. There's still some frustration and annoyance that bubbles up inside him, wishing Xue Yang would just try to see things as he does, but that's all futile.
So he sighs and makes sure the stamps in the box are all placed evenly within.]
[He knows how much Xingchen's strength has also been impacted, but it seems unnecessary to point that out, so Xue Yang lets it go. He's bothered by the sigh, more than anything, frowning as he tries to think of the words he wants to say.]
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Aish! Daozhang, I worry!
Don't be so difficult.
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Wouldn't it be right for me to get to make sure I have no need to worry?
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[Sure, he almost got his arm ripped off by a werewolf a while back, but Moiraine fixed him up remarkably well, good as new. He's fine.]
Do I not sound healthy?
[...But this is Xue Yang he's talking to. Xingchen already knows no answer he gives will be good enough. He's going to be stuck with this man forever.]
I am outside of the house to which I was assigned.
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And, a few minutes later, he lands by Xingchen, clearing his throat as he straightens up to alert him to his presence beyond doubt.
He's essentially invited him, hasn't he? This means that Xingchen wanted him to come.]
...I wasn't that far off, so. Wasn't a bother.
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So Xue Yang will find him sitting on the ground outside the house with a little activity in front of him. He's found some sort of wooden plank and places it in front of himself. To his left is a small pile of paper, roughly talisman-sized, weighed down by a rock. In front of him is a box of stamps, and he takes one of the papers to stamp a certain character onto it. This is then taken to the right of him, where there is a small collection of drying talismans, all held down by more rocks. Thankfully the wind isn't rambunctious today.
He's been productive! And not hurting himself, thank you very much.]
Mn. I would not want to trouble you.
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[He's not sure what to say to that, because it seems like sarcasm, but sarcasm isn't really something Xingchen does. Still, he doesn't want to be caught out, so he simply moves his shoulders dismissively, accompanied by an equally gently dismissive sound. He's used to being around someone blind, after all.
Moving closer, Xue Yang takes a good look at those talismans, even crouching down to be closer to ground level.]
That's clever. You've been busy, daozhang.
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The cleverness is not mine. These were carved by someone else.
[He raises a hand to run over the tops of the stamps.]
I never would have thought them up on my own.
[He creates another talisman, moving the freshly-inked paper to his right, when he feels his space running out. It makes him pause again, thinking, then he lifts his head toward where he thinks Xue Yang is. Maybe...]
...Would you...do something for me?
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[The sound of agreement comes without him having taken any time to think, before it registers. Part of him is used to Xingchen asking him for favours, but he remembers that, no. Not really. That part of him was the one Xingchen called friend.
He watches Xingchen carefully now, as if he could somehow gauge his exact mood, anticipate how best to respond.]
What is it?
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In a way, he's about to. But he could also simply use the help.]
Do you see how I've grouped certain talismans together? If they've dried, could you begin stacking them for me?
[He's taking a risk, he knows, to trust Xue Yang at all, but at the same time he thinks he's...safe. Hasn't Xue Yang said that Xingchen owns him? Not that that makes any of this normal or better. It's quite horrific, actually.
He still can't figure out why Xue Yang did the things that hurt him if he likes him so much. Is it even affection? He doesn't know. He can't make sense of it.
At the very least, though, Xingchen can make him useful and helpful, even for something so small as this task.]
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You've been busy, daozhang. Are you preparing for something specific?
[He holds one of the talismans up to look at it closely, smiling a little. He believed he'd have been able to recognise it anywhere, Xingchen's work.]
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Xingchen could so easily pretend this is still his nameless friend. There's a twinge in his chest at that. He's so foolish.
But he breathes in and out and carefully laid out his most recently-made talisman.]
There is nothing in particular prompting this. I just know it would be better for me to have a reserve than to try and create in the heat of things.
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If you want any other symbols, I can carve a stamp. It's easy enough, so it's not too much of a bother.
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That's right. You're good at carving things.
[Like people goes unsaid, but it's right there at the front of his mind. Maybe it's there at Xue Yang's, too. He doesn't want to bring that up, not when they're having...a somewhat peaceful time.]
I think A-Qing likes when you carve apples into little animals. I know she doesn't always say it.
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[To carve people, sure, but he likes them in general. Likes them to carve apples, likes them to intimidate, likes them for everything they stand for in his life.]
There was a time, daozhang, can I tell you a story? Just a time where holding a knife or not holding one, it made all the difference.
[He laughs quietly to himself, shaking his head and finishing stacking the talismans.]
Ah. You want another stamp or not?
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[Because it sounds like it could go dark places very fast and he's not convinced Xue Yang wouldn't tell of a time when he did something morally questionable.
But the question of stamps comes up again amd Xingchen breathes out. He's not really sure what else he could use, but he doesn't want to deny Xue Yang, either. It could upset him and make him do who knows what in retaliation.]
Maybe...a stamp for an explosive talisman. The enemies here are strange and dangerous.
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[Getting to his feet, he begins walking around, until he's found a piece of wood that has a good shape. Then he sits down in front of Xingchen again, legs crossed. Having pulled out one of his knives, the sound of wood being carved can be heard.]
I don't know if you'd like the story. Would you rather tell me one instead, daozhang? I won't point out how boring it is.
[There is a teasing edge to his voice, gentle amusement. He means no real insult here.]
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The request for Xingchen to tell a story instead makes him frown in thought. It's not that he hasn't had interesting experiences he'd like to talk about, but as he told Xie Lian some time before, they mostly involve Song Lan.
He misses Song Lan terribly and any stories with him would only make him miss his friend more. And then Xue Yang...well. He need not stir that particular pot.
But a story, any story...
Finally, he settles on something simple. And probably boring to anyone other than him.]
I remember the first time I saw a fox on the mountain. Or maybe not the first time, but one of them. I must have been six years old, maybe seven. Old enough to help around with all our duties. On that day I was helping pick some of the vegetables in our garden when I happened to look out toward the treeline. There it was. A splash of orange against the green, standing out so clearly. I thought it was beautiful.
One of the older disciples told me to ignore it and leave it alone while another told me to stay away because it could be a huli jing. I listened to them at first, and the fox showed up at the treeline a few more times, but then it stopped coming.
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But then he frowns, tilts his head to the side and...]
...is that the end to your story, daozhang? What kind of story is that? It has a beginning and then nothing else of note.
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In a way, that's it. I didn't see a fox again for a while and it was probably a different one when I did.
But I was a curious child and nature running its course wasn't good enough for me. So one day I decided I would wake up extra early the next morning and investigate that treeline. And I did.
But then Shizun found me not long after. Maybe some of the other disciples told her I had been slacking in my chores or she just knew, but she told me not to get too focused on one thing. Because while I had been so worried about the fox I hadn't noticed the birds that made the trees their homes or the flowers that bloomed overnight. There was life all around me and I didn't see it.
[He starts to gather up the stacks of dry talismans, reaching into his sleeves to produce some string so he can bundle them up properly.]
I'm not sure how well I learned her lesson.
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[Is there a moral to this story? He's not sure, but still.]
What do you notice now, daozhang? What would make you wake up early?
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[He ties the stacks together, brushing his fingers over the stacks to be sure of his work.]
I can't see any physical beauty anymore, but I can hear the birds more clearly than I ever did. If there is a garden I take comfort in the fragrance of the flowers. Maybe Shizun's lesson just hit a little too late for me.
...I still like people. I still want to help them, even if I've learned that so many are ungrateful or maybe unworthy of my time. If someone needs me, then that will always get me out of bed.
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[Of course he'd think that, rolling his eyes with the sigh that makes it audible, shaking his head a little.]
So tedious, daozhang. The way you are.
[If he had stayed on the mountain, Xue Yang would not have ruined him. The world, Xingchen would not know what it's like. But what would Xue Yang be, if Xingchen had stayed on the mountain?
He does not have an answer.]
Stay in bed sometimes. I can go and help too, if they need something. People are always needy. You need to rest.
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So he sighs and makes sure the stamps in the box are all placed evenly within.]
I gave up my eyes, not my strength.
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I'm just saying. I can help for you.
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