[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.]
[The stamps all seem to br in their proper place and the talismans are bundled up well for now, so Xingchen rests his hands in his lap, listening more closely now.
This is a side of Xue Yang he can't easily identify and yet it is familiar in its own way. Xue Yang was always so willing to help with anything while living in Yi City. Xingchen still can't wrap his mind around how much of that was genuine and how much was an act to further ruin him. But it still tugs at him.
Maybe...maybe some part of his nameless friend still resides within Xue Yang.]
[Clearly sounding upset, the denial comes easy anyway and Xue Yang shakes his head as if that could get rid of whatever's darkening his thoughts, smiling the kind of smile that does not reach his eyes as he speaks again.]
Wouldn't it be stupid, daozhang, if you thought anything good could come of me?
[Xingchen continues to listen, to pick up whatever audible tells he can. Xue Yang is upset, regardless of what he may say. He's defensive. Maybe he's putting up a front, but Xingchen isn't as confident in that assessment.
He picks at the hem of one of his sleeves. His clothes are newer, a necessity after his run-in with a werewolf left his previous robes a tattered mess. He's not thinking about that, though, just how to figure out this conversation without making things worse.]
Probably.
[He knows better. He's told himself this countless times. It doesn't seem to stick.]
Yet you've accused me of stupidity numerous times. Most recently just a few moments ago.
M-hm, so I have. Do you think it, then? Do you think that Xue Yang can be good?
[It is meant to come out mocking, because he does not want to hear the real answer. However, he does not quite manage to mask it, there is real emotion underneath that mocking and finally he just shakes his head, laughing in a way that does not sound amused.]
[That tone in Xue Yang's voice keeps Xingchen from answering quickly. If he isn't careful, they'll end up pushing themselves back a few steps. And it feels that even though they haven't made much progress in the way of helping Xue Yang be "good," there's still something that has happened between them.
He tilts his head and chews on his lower lip, thinking of the best approach to this.]
I think...that everyone has the potential for good, just as they have the potential for evil. I think if Xue Yang wanted to try, then he could.
[And Xingchen suspects he does, if the waver in his voice means anything. He wouldn't be so defensive if he didn't want something more.]
I think - I know we have hurt each other. That makes any of this difficult to deal with.
[His hands fiddle with his sleeve a moment longer, then still as he sighs.]
I know that it may not count for much, if anything, in the big picture, but Xue Yang made me laugh. He didn't have to do that, but he chose to.
[That is an easy thing to admit, somehow, when so many other admissions are impossible. He watches Xingchen, his mouth dry. Ah, yes. The difficulties.]
Nothing sounds better than your laugh.
[Of course, he knows he's more likely to cause him to cry these days. Whatever.]
Daozhang, since I'm being so nice, shouldn't you say something nice about me too? Wouldn't it be fair like that? Like, when I tell you that you are the most beautiful, what do you say?
[It is not as if he has ever embraced the concept of shame, so he sees no need to deny the accusation now.]
But isn't it only right for someone to go fishing when they risk starving otherwise? How else would I have fed myself, daozhang? Don't you know that I fished for food and any other necessity in Kuizhou in all the ways I could?
[His sigh is long-suffering, clearly exaggerated, and cut off with a giggle he manages to suppress.]
Ah, but even pastries are not as sweet as the words you could give me, daozhang~!
[There is no hesitation, it does not even occur to Xue Yang to hesitate for a moment. He leans forward, closer to Xingchen, his eyes on Xingchen's face, reading it the way he has for years. He does not need his eyes to do so, Xingchen's expression has always been easy to interpret.]
[He gives an acknowledging nod, then carefully raises his hands up the rest of the way until his fingertips find warm skin. Then he presses his hands more fully to Xie Yang's cheeks, just holding him there and getting a feel for the shape of his face.
Slowly he starts to move, thumbs brushing along cheekbones, index fingers reaching the edge of eye sockets.
Almost too familiar.
He explores Xue Yang's face in a way he never really has before, with careful consideration, frowning in concentration as he tries to reconcile this face beneath his fingers with the one in his memory.
One hand moves up to brush a thumb over his brows while the other hesitantly allows the fingertips to graze over his lips.]
Your features are sharp. Your expressions can be harsh when you want to frighten, but if you allow yourself to be more...calm, then you can be handsome. Charming.
You know that I want more than that. Why ask like that, is it to be cruel? Ah, daozhang, have I taught you too well? A tease.
[Xue Yang laughs and shakes his head, then he reaches for Xingchen's hands, threading their fingers together. He looks at him and he wonders if he can still feel it. He feels he must, as he looks at him with such intensity. As everything else in thw rold fades away.]
[He's honest, instead, though some may consider honesty to be cruel at times.
But he allows their hands to be joined, noticing that nub of Xue Yang's pinky where it should rest fully against his own. He feels the eyes upon him, as well. Xue Yang looks at him a lot, though, so this isn't new. A lot of this isn't new. The touching and the intimacy and mysterious force of the universe that keeps drawing them together.
No, it isn't hard to guess what Xue Yang wants. Xingchen has difficulty understanding him at times, yes, but he can also be...quite simple.
Like a child, really.
Still, there's a fluttering sensation in his gut as he answers and he dare not speak too loudly in case he's entirely wrong.]
[He says it right away, without hesitation, but his voice stays quiet as well, matching Xingchen's volume. It seems more precious this way. More intimate. The way it should be, because who else needs to know? Who else can ever understand?]
You have me.
[He gestures with his arms, but also produces a sound with his tongue to accompany it, conveying the meaning. This is simple, this is obvious. This makes sense.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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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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This is a side of Xue Yang he can't easily identify and yet it is familiar in its own way. Xue Yang was always so willing to help with anything while living in Yi City. Xingchen still can't wrap his mind around how much of that was genuine and how much was an act to further ruin him. But it still tugs at him.
Maybe...maybe some part of his nameless friend still resides within Xue Yang.]
...I've upset you.
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[Clearly sounding upset, the denial comes easy anyway and Xue Yang shakes his head as if that could get rid of whatever's darkening his thoughts, smiling the kind of smile that does not reach his eyes as he speaks again.]
Wouldn't it be stupid, daozhang, if you thought anything good could come of me?
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He picks at the hem of one of his sleeves. His clothes are newer, a necessity after his run-in with a werewolf left his previous robes a tattered mess. He's not thinking about that, though, just how to figure out this conversation without making things worse.]
Probably.
[He knows better. He's told himself this countless times. It doesn't seem to stick.]
Yet you've accused me of stupidity numerous times. Most recently just a few moments ago.
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[It is meant to come out mocking, because he does not want to hear the real answer. However, he does not quite manage to mask it, there is real emotion underneath that mocking and finally he just shakes his head, laughing in a way that does not sound amused.]
Ah, I'm no good. Daozhang knows it well.
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He tilts his head and chews on his lower lip, thinking of the best approach to this.]
I think...that everyone has the potential for good, just as they have the potential for evil. I think if Xue Yang wanted to try, then he could.
[And Xingchen suspects he does, if the waver in his voice means anything. He wouldn't be so defensive if he didn't want something more.]
I think - I know we have hurt each other. That makes any of this difficult to deal with.
[His hands fiddle with his sleeve a moment longer, then still as he sighs.]
I know that it may not count for much, if anything, in the big picture, but Xue Yang made me laugh. He didn't have to do that, but he chose to.
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[That is an easy thing to admit, somehow, when so many other admissions are impossible. He watches Xingchen, his mouth dry. Ah, yes. The difficulties.]
Nothing sounds better than your laugh.
[Of course, he knows he's more likely to cause him to cry these days. Whatever.]
Daozhang, since I'm being so nice, shouldn't you say something nice about me too? Wouldn't it be fair like that? Like, when I tell you that you are the most beautiful, what do you say?
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[Like he did with Xue Yang. When he was happy enough.
And then the bigger compliment comes and Xingchen breathes out, trying his best to ignore the slight heat rising to his face.]
I would say you're fishing.
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[It is not as if he has ever embraced the concept of shame, so he sees no need to deny the accusation now.]
But isn't it only right for someone to go fishing when they risk starving otherwise? How else would I have fed myself, daozhang? Don't you know that I fished for food and any other necessity in Kuizhou in all the ways I could?
[His sigh is long-suffering, clearly exaggerated, and cut off with a giggle he manages to suppress.]
Ah, but even pastries are not as sweet as the words you could give me, daozhang~!
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You are clever. Resourceful. Resilient.
[Slowly, Xingchen raises his hands, holding them out at about chest height.]
Lean forward.
[He remembers what Xue Yang looks like, but memories fade with time, even important memories. He needs to build a fresh image in his mind.]
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I'm here, daozhang.
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Slowly he starts to move, thumbs brushing along cheekbones, index fingers reaching the edge of eye sockets.
Almost too familiar.
He explores Xue Yang's face in a way he never really has before, with careful consideration, frowning in concentration as he tries to reconcile this face beneath his fingers with the one in his memory.
One hand moves up to brush a thumb over his brows while the other hesitantly allows the fingertips to graze over his lips.]
Your features are sharp. Your expressions can be harsh when you want to frighten, but if you allow yourself to be more...calm, then you can be handsome. Charming.
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[He does know how to be charming, in his own way, but there has to be quite a treat at stake for him to go to the effort.]
The women at the brothels would say it too, but they had no sweets.
[Of considerable less interest.]
Daozhang, no one is beautiful like you. From you, just the words are sweet enough. I need no pastry to want to charm you.
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Mn. Those women sell sweets of a different nature.
[And nothing a young child would likely find appealing. Unless Xue Yang visited them as an adult? Xingchen doesn't dwell on that. It doesn't matter.
What matters is how Xue Yang very openly charms him. And how Xingchen doesn't hate it.]
What do you want, then? Just to look at me?
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[Xue Yang laughs and shakes his head, then he reaches for Xingchen's hands, threading their fingers together. He looks at him and he wonders if he can still feel it. He feels he must, as he looks at him with such intensity. As everything else in thw rold fades away.]
You know what I want. Don't you?
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[He's honest, instead, though some may consider honesty to be cruel at times.
But he allows their hands to be joined, noticing that nub of Xue Yang's pinky where it should rest fully against his own. He feels the eyes upon him, as well. Xue Yang looks at him a lot, though, so this isn't new. A lot of this isn't new. The touching and the intimacy and mysterious force of the universe that keeps drawing them together.
No, it isn't hard to guess what Xue Yang wants. Xingchen has difficulty understanding him at times, yes, but he can also be...quite simple.
Like a child, really.
Still, there's a fluttering sensation in his gut as he answers and he dare not speak too loudly in case he's entirely wrong.]
...You want...me.
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[He says it right away, without hesitation, but his voice stays quiet as well, matching Xingchen's volume. It seems more precious this way. More intimate. The way it should be, because who else needs to know? Who else can ever understand?]
You have me.
[He gestures with his arms, but also produces a sound with his tongue to accompany it, conveying the meaning. This is simple, this is obvious. This makes sense.]
Fair is fair.
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