At long last, I'm back, bearing an excerpt from my difanghua Mysterious Lotus Casebook longfic AND some exciting news: namely, I'm hoping to starting posting it, a chapter at a time, on August 9th, the 3 year anniversary of the last episode airing, and of my starting to work on this fic! (This is volume 1 of 2, and it's going to be a little over 170,000 words (I'm at 160k now with 1.5 chapters left), and 25 chapters!)
So, enjoy this excerpt from near-ish to the end, with some teasing, some experiments in providing comfort, and some growing pains in learning to be honest. (And yes, it's volume 1, so dihua are together but difanghua are not yet, as you can probably guess from the excerpt.)
Without further ado, enjoy this excerpt from "Shattering at the Helm!"
**
Xiangyi beamed at Di Feisheng, nodding his approval, his damp eyes shining with pride as though Di Feisheng had done something remarkable instead of just stating a fact. Shrugging, Di Feisheng looked back down at Xiaobao in their arms, whose breath was still coming too fast and uneven. He frowned. There was one more thing he could try. Xiaobao had done it to help him, before the acupoint had shattered, which meant Xiaobao himself found it soothing. How hard could it be to repay him in kind? He shifted his left arm higher up Xiaobao’s back, hovered his hand over the top of Xiaobao’s skull as he tried to figure out the choreography, then rolled his eyes at himself. It couldn’t be that different from petting Huli Jing. And she hadn’t complained, so his technique couldn’t be that bad. Probably.
Di Feisheng exhaled slowly, braced himself for how fucking awkward it would be if he’d misjudged this, and began to stroke Xiaobao’s hair. Huh. It was surprisingly smooth, despite all the crud from the forest that was still stuck in it.
Xiaobao stilled, then let out a low, soft, drawn-out pleased groan, the type Di Feisheng used to pull from Xiangyi’s lips if he’d massaged his neck and shoulders in just the right way when Xiangyi would come to their spars snippy and tense, full of stymied energy from yet another pointlessly infuriating Sigumen meeting. A few more slow strokes to Xiaobao’s hair, and Xiaobao slumped forward, as limp as a noodle, and proceeded to melt even more into their arms until they were the only things keeping him from flopping face-first onto their laps.
Xiangyi tried and failed to stifle his soft, fond chuckles.
“Shut up,” Xiaobao muttered, his ears turning pink. “I’ve barely slept in days, that feels incredible, and his hands are—”He stilled, then went rigid. “I’m going to shut up now,” he said, suddenly sounding much more alert.
“Oh, but why stop there, Xiao Huli,” Xiangyi teased. “Tell us more about his—”
“—Alright, I’m up!” Xiaobao said, popping out of their arms and sitting, stiff as a board, at the side of the bed, his face strangely flushed, and staring straight ahead, deliberately avoiding looking at either Di Feisheng or Xiangyi.
Xiangyi snickered.
“Sitting up, you damn Lotus,” Xiaobao hissed, smacking Xiangyi lightly on the arm. He exhaled slowly. “Thank you for the hug, a-Fei,” he said, nodding in his general direction, still not making eye contact. Still shaking.
“I hugged you too, you know,” Xiangyi teased, a hint of a smirk toying at his lips. “Don’t I get thanked?”
“No,” Xiaobao said, directing a pointed glare at Xiangyi.
Di Feisheng stared between them, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. A warning stab in his skull interrupted, the world wobbling almost as much as Xiaobao’s wide, wet eyes had earlier.
“You’re squinting. Your headache’s back? Is it the seal?” Xiaobao asked. “Shit, um, what do you need? Can you try taking that medicine again? Do we need to warm it up?”
Right. That. Di Feisheng’s stomach churned angrily. So much for not thinking about it. It wouldn’t go any better this time. Not if Xiaobao tried to help while Di Feisheng’s mind couldn’t keep the past in the past. Di Feisheng winced. They’d just finished telling Xiaobao he could stay indefinitely; how the fuck could he tell him to leave now, even if it was just the room? Especially after their fight over medicine last night? He swallowed past the nauseous lump growing in his throat. “Soon,” he answered.
Xiaobao frowned. “But—”
“—I can’t help but notice you’re still shaking, Xiaobao,” Xiangyi said, diverting Xiaobao’s attention. It took all of Di Feisheng’s self-control not to kiss the wily bastard to thank him then and there, despite their audience.
“Oh,” Xiaobao said, blinking in surprise then looking down at his hands. “I guess I am.” He shrugged. “That’s fine. It will stop once I’ve jumped up and down or run sword forms for a bit outside. But there’s no rush. I can go after I’ve helped with the medicine.”
Oh thank fuck. An excuse that wouldn’t look like he was kicking him out or make him feel unwanted again. Di Feisheng managed a faint smile and shook his head. “Go ahead. Don’t wait.”
Cnetizens: Why the thousand-year-old stone statues at the Northern Song Mausoleums aren’t covered with glass enclosures.
The director of the Cultural Relics Bureau replies: "They’ve stood here largely intact for over a millennium. Why add extra barriers?"
Visitors worry wind, rain and sunlight in the farmland will wear them down. The director explains:
Glass covers speed up decay—it’s like locking the statues in a sauna. Trapped heat and moisture create sharp temperature shifts. Salt crystals inside the stone expand and crack the carvings far faster than open-air exposure.
These statues blend naturally with the farmland landscape. Glass barriers would destroy the sense of scale and historical atmosphere.
When first built, the mausoleum complex was a restricted royal compound ringed by walls, palaces and pine trees—no farmland at all. After the Song fell, protection systems collapsed. Wars and weather destroyed buildings. Local residents gradually dismantled the abandoned structures, reusing timber and bricks in nearby villages.
By the Ming and Qing dynasties, villagers turned the empty grounds into farmland, leaving stone figures scattered amid crops.
Few people damaged the statues for three reasons: each weighs several tons and is impossible to move; folk belief held that anyone who damaged the guardian statues would be cursed with misfortune; every later dynasty passed laws punishing those who vandalized former imperial mausoleums.
Once an exclusive imperial burial ground, now ordinary farmland—this shift tells the story of history. Glass covers would only be unnecessary. As an old Chinese poem puts it: 旧时王谢堂前燕，飞入寻常百姓家
The swallows that were wont to grace the halls of Wang and Xie,
Now seek the humble roofs of common men.
please read this even if you're not indian. especially if you're not indian.
you've seen the jokes. india is "dirty", indians are "everywhere", why don't they fix their own country. ok. let me tell you why, and what's happening right now while nobody's watching.
first, the history you skipped: britain ruled india for two centuries and drained it. economist utsa patnaik's research estimates around $45 trillion in today's money was taken. the india that got independence in 1947 was one of the poorest countries on earth. every "why is india like this" question starts there. you don't get to profit off a robbery and then mock the crime scene.
now, what's happening RIGHT NOW:
in may the question paper for NEET leaked. that's the national medical entrance exam. over 2.2 million students took it. cancelled. years of studying, families' savings poured into coaching, gone overnight because someone sold the paper. students died by suicide after. these were kids who wanted to be doctors.
and out of that came a protest movement. a gen z group called the cockroach janta party, started by a 30 year old named abhijeet dipke, got 22 million instagram followers within DAYS. they've been doing a sit-in at jantar mantar in delhi demanding education minister dharmendra pradhan resign.
and then there's sonam wangchuk. if you've watched 3 idiots, he's the real engineer the character was based on. built solar schools in ladakh. invented ice stupas so himalayan villages have water. spent his whole life on education. he's 59 and he's been on hunger strike for 17+ days now. reporters went to see him this week and he was too weak to talk. and the troll armies are calling him "anti national" and "foreign funded". a man starving himself for other people's children. that's the thing here, anyone who asks a question is suddenly a traitor.
it's not one incident, it's everywhere you look:
• infrastructure worth thousands of crores failing within months of the ribbon cutting. tunnels collapsing in regions where heavy rain is a guarantee, not a surprise.
• youth unemployment near 10% for ages 15 to 29, 13.6% in cities. in a country of 1.42 billion where more than half the population is young.
• only about the top 3% of indians earn above 10 lakh a year. meanwhile billionaire wealth keeps ballooning and the headlines celebrate it.
• manipur burned for over two years. an ethnic conflict, tens of thousands displaced, and the prime minister barely said the word manipur while it happened.
• journalists raided. critics' houses bulldozed. activists sitting in jail for years without trial under laws like UAPA. our press freedom ranking has cratered.
• even the petrol is a fight now, ethanol blending pushed through while drivers complain about their engines and get no straight answers.
and through all of it, the PM, who came to power on religious polarisation (americans, sound familiar?), travels abroad for photo ops and has not held one single open press conference in over a decade. not one.
what i'm asking:
if you're not indian: share this. our media mostly won't cover any of it because the big outlets are owned by the same billionaires the government serves. the only reason wangchuk's fast is getting any coverage is people refusing to look away.
if you ARE indian: speak up even if you're comfortable. especially if you're comfortable. join the protests. add to this, correct me, translate it. staying quiet is a choice when nothing in this post touches your life.
india is not "dirty". india was robbed, and it's being robbed again, from the inside this time. but it's also the country where a 59 year old will starve for strangers' kids and 22 million young people will rally behind a party literally named after cockroaches, because cockroaches survive everything.
a classic smartass rich brat sunshine vs down to earth rules stickler grumpy, is not usually the dynamic i look for but i admit these two have really nice chemistry
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