"Xue Yang did all that to avenge his finger" is such a funny take, like. Did you listen to his story? Did you put yourself in the shoes of his 7yo self for ANY seconds at all?
Because lets recap: He was tricked, and used, and hungry, and beaten repeatedly, and treated as worthless and disposable, all by a man fully capable of paying him for his work. He was sent alone to deliver a taunt to a dangerous man. He was seven. He accepting the beating he received without complaint, and was further beaten for asking for the payment he'd been promised. He was whipped, and knocked in front of an ox cart.
Chang Ci'an didn't AIM the cart at his finger.
Chang Ci'an deliberately knocked a seven year old orphan child to the ground in front of an ox cart and ordered the driver to drive over the child.
And the driver did.
He manage to escape with ONLY one crushed finger (and, we can assume, many less permanent injuries). Crushing injuries are incredibly serious, and even one so small can be deadly. An orphaned child can't afford decent medical care. Adult Xue Yang has a SEVERED finger, which means that at best he managed to find a doctor who would amputate it for him, and at worst he cut it off himself. At age seven. Xue Yang is INSANELY lucky to have survived to age 8 after this incident.
This is why Xiao Xingchen's suggestion that Xue Yang should have merely cut off Chang Ci'an's finger, or hand, or arm, is so upsetting to Xue Yang. Yes, the revenge he did take was abhorrent and excessive, but Xingchen totally misses the point of the story (understandable in the moment, everything is happening SO MUCH at that point).
Xue Yang, at age seven, had done nothing wrong. He was a child, he was innocent, and he didn't deserve to be treated like his life was worthless by Chang Ci'an, or the cart driver, or the message recipient, or the restaurant owner, or every observer on the street who did nothing to help. And every person who tells him it's "just a finger" further treats the very real devaluing of and threat to his life as normal and fine.
If he, any time after age 7, had been able to exact revenge by cutting off Chang Ci'an's arm, there is nothing equivalent about that revenge. A severed arm is not a crushing injury, and is less likely to produce life-long chronic pain. Chang Ci'an would have good medical care-- a doctor, medicine, pain killers. His life would not meaningfully be in danger. Chang Ci'an had family (and money) to help him with whatever tasks being one-handed made difficult. Chang Ci'an was an adult, who's already lived a life without pain and disability, and who's prospects will not be impacted. Chang Ci'an was an ADULT and therefore better able to understand what was happening and why. And beyond all of that, Chang Ci'an would DESERVE IT.
To say that Xue Yang did everything he did to the Chang Clan in revenge over "losing his finger" is to betray an utter lack of willingness to empathize with Xue Yang. Even the 7yo version of him.
And he knows it. Which is why the suggestion is so upsetting.
I need a shadows house Au. The angels as the shadows, humans as living dolls. I want to see Jimmy being completely one with Castiel, Sam snapping in and out of synchronicity with Lucifer and it gets worse, Dean not at all able to act like Michael to the point he needs a new living doll (Adam).
Also, the angels learning to fly. The matter of fusing together, gabriel missing his living doll, castiel occasionally talking to jimmy later on only to realize no one's there to answer. Lucifer flying Sam around after realizing his face likes it.
I need a shadows house Au. The angels as the shadows, humans as living dolls. I want to see Jimmy being completely one with Castiel, Sam snapping in and out of synchronicity with Lucifer and it gets worse, Dean not at all able to act like Michael to the point he needs a new living doll (Adam).
I love you but we don't love the same. I can't be near you when you want me to be. Your love is smothering and your need to keep me safe is trapping me. I'm my own person but I don't know how to show you that. I lash out and hurt you even though I don't mean to. I need you to move slowly around me or I'll bolt. I love you, even though I don't say it. If you stay still I'll sit next to you, and even though we don't understand each other we can be together like that.
cat love as in I am small and scared and all of my instincts and my experience and your vast power say you're a threat but I am choosing to trust in your kindness despite my fear. you could kill me with one hand but I know you won't.
cat love as in I can tell you are upset and I don't understand why so I will sit stiffly beside you and awkwardly provide the only reassurance I know how to give. I am uncomfortable with every single moment of this but it is what you would do for me.
cat love as in I am small and powerless but I will curl up back to back with you and stand guard while you sleep and I will mean it with every fiber of my being.
my cat Nepenthe was a former stray behavior case at risk of euthanasia because she kept mauling potential adopters. on her second week in my apartment--having already attacked me multiple times without provocation, I will add, I wasn't special, she needed genuine help--she slinked out of the bedroom yowling at me. when I went to check on her she kept walking back and forth until I followed her, where she insistently paced between my feet and her hidey-hole in the back of my dresser, increasingly distressed. about three seconds after she gave up and hid, an absolutely torrential rain front hit. she didn't understand yet that we couldn't get wet inside. she'd been trying to warn me.
she didn't know me yet, but she knew I hadn't yelled at her when she hurt me. she knew I hadn't tried to hurt her back. she didn't understand why she was attacking me; those episodes probably scared her more than me. she knew I "shared" food with her, and that I asked before touching her. and she went out of her way to bring me into her safe space, to protect her friend.
cat love as stiff hesitant uncertain acts of service that are devastating in their sincerity, as well.
Thinking about "time travel redo" AUs again, specifically choosing, like, the worst possible characters to go through them, the ones who would fuck it up so badly and/or wouldn't bother to "fix" anything but issues immediately concerning them.
With SVSSS, I've already done a fic with Mobei-Jun, but you know who else is up there? Zhuzhi-Lang. Emotionally equipped to handle this? No. Full and nuanced understanding of the situations at hand? No. Capable of doing so, SO much damage about it? Ohhhhh, yeah. All the proactivity of a "perfect run" time traveler and almost NONE of the ability to execute a stable fix-it.
Tianlang-Jun would REALLY like to know how and why his silly snake nephew spontaneously developed a life debt towards this Shen Jiu kid. Haha, mean little fucker, isn't he? It's so cute. But seriously, what the fuck is happening.
Thinking about "time travel redo" AUs again, specifically choosing, like, the worst possible characters to go through them, the ones who would fuck it up so badly and/or wouldn't bother to "fix" anything but issues immediately concerning them.
With SVSSS, I've already done a fic with Mobei-Jun, but you know who else is up there? Zhuzhi-Lang. Emotionally equipped to handle this? No. Full and nuanced understanding of the situations at hand? No. Capable of doing so, SO much damage about it? Ohhhhh, yeah. All the proactivity of a "perfect run" time traveler and almost NONE of the ability to execute a stable fix-it.
Tianlang-Jun would REALLY like to know how and why his silly snake nephew spontaneously developed a life debt towards this Shen Jiu kid. Haha, mean little fucker, isn't he? It's so cute. But seriously, what the fuck is happening.
Another old nibble of an idea I'll probably never manage to go further on.
---
Modern Day Meng Yao, noticing his new neighbor in the building always looks like hell. Obviously not sleeping, probably not eating, probably spending a lot of time crying.
His first thought is a bad breakup, which really isn't his wheelhouse, so he stays out of it.
Then one day, a full month after the other guy moved in, he happens to see through the doorway of the apartment as he leaves.
Literally nothing has been unpacked.
The living room is still full of boxes and stacked furniture, and there's two mattresses on the floor.
His desire to stay in his own lane wars with how utterly miserable that looks.
The latter wins.
He knocks on his neighbor's door with takeout, then breezes past the surprised and confused man, talking a mile a minute to keep him off his guard. He opens up the food and grabs a bun for himself, the tactic working to coax his neighbor -"Huaisang" he hears a quiet mumble- into taking one without asking a lot of questions about it. Then he starts tackling the boxes.
There is clothing clearly too big for his neighbor, and photos.
He first thinks of his prior guess of a relationship ending badly, but... no, on second look, this guy and Huaisang have some family resemblance.
He decides not to ask yet, and decides not to push too far in unpacking.
He finds a few boxes of books, shoves a bookcase into a spot that looks appealing, and begins arranging. He hangs a bunch of -not the photos- artwork and posters. He would really like to do something about the mattresses, but he's not strong enough to put together beds on his own, and Huaisang still looks to be somewhat in shock.
At least the apartment is starting to look sort of lived in.
He gives Huaisang his contact info and, once they've finished eating, he takes the empty food containers back to his room to throw away.
Only then, once the adrenaline crashes, does he start questioning what the fuck he's just done.
This is stupid! It wasn't his business! He's never just jumped in like this before! What was he thinking?!
But... now he's gotten himself into this, so...
The next day, still kind of out of sorts over his own bizarrely spontaneous and bold act, he calls his friend Lan Huan for advice. For the most part, Lan Huan is extremely amused as he lays out his crisis of not minding his own business, until he mentions his new neighbor's name. And then the other end of the line goes silent-silent for several seconds.
"You... said his name is Huaisang?"
"...Yeah?"
"Oh... oh, no."
The man in the pictures, as it turns out, is Nie Mingjue, Lan Huan's other best friend whom Meng Yao has never gotten to meet yet because stars and their schedules had just never aligned for it.
Nie Mingjue, who, and Meng Yao has heard this from Lan Huan himself, has been in the hospital in extremely not-good condition for the better part of a year.
And whose little brother, Nie Huaisang, has been missing ever since their landlord up and terminated their lease for extremely spurious reasons.
Suddenly, everything about his neighbor's wretched emotional state and inability to do anything about their possessions makes awful sense.
And now he's gotta figure out whether or not to just hand all of this to Lan Huan and hope he can deal with it, or continue to be involved himself.
(Oh, who is he kidding, he can't just back out now.)
Fae/yao nie Huaisang wants to paint with mortal memories. Meng can-not-forget-anything-ever Yao is willing to trade away some in exchange for money/medicine/something
He didn't actually have much hope of this working, but his throbbing ribs and left knee were a pointed reminder that nothing else he'd tried had worked either.
Holding the cheap, stolen brush tightly in both hands, he bowed to the pond that was the first source of still water he'd come across since leaving the city and sent out his desperate thoughts.
There was no clap of thunder or bright flash or rush of wind or... anything.
Disappointed despite himself, he straightened and opened his eyes-
-then stumbled back with a yelp when he found glowing pale green eyes staring back into his own from behind a white mask decorated in delicately intricate green and gold designs.
The owner of the eyes and masks laughed at his surprise, and she -He? Between the clothing and the type of mask, it was hard to tell- sounded surprisingly young for a creature with the reputation -he was going with he- he had.
The stranger was smaller than expected as well, almost identical to his own size.
"Well?" the stranger asked, folding his arms as he floated comfortably, almost lazily in the air. "Don't just stand there staring like a cow in a busy road. You're not a cow, you're a fox. So be a fox."
Right. He shook himself out of his shock and quickly started to bow again, but was caught with a hand under his arms.
"No need for that either, fox. Just tell me what you're here to trade for."
He swallowed hard. "This one is Meng Yao. My mother is Meng Shi, one of the workers in The Ornate Fan, a brothel in Yunping. My father is Jin Guangshan, head of the Jin Sect in Lanling."
"Ah. That one."
He raised his head, surprised by the tone of the stranger's voice. Even behind a mask, he could read the disdain there. "You know of my father, gongzi?"
It made sense, really. The supernatural creatures powerful enough to have higher thought would surely know and dislike the cultivators that hunted them. But there was just... something about the way the stranger had scoffed...
"He wants my services, but is too much of a greedy coward to pay for them himself. I haven't appeared to a Jin cultivator in years because most of them turned out to be sent by him."
Those entrancing eyes narrowed. "And what about you, fox? Did he send you as well?"
"In a manner of speaking," Meng Yao replied, not bothering to hide the bitterness he felt now that he knew they were on similar ground. "When my mother grew pregnant with me, he left her a token and a promise that she could call on him if it became necessary. She is too ill to make such a long journey from the brothel, so I did it for her."
"And got kicked out on your fluffy tail."
"Why do you keep- yes, my father had me quite literally thrown out after revealing the token had just been one of many fakes."
It was a long way down the stairs, he didn't say, but the way the stranger looked him over, he could tell it was apparent.
"Well, then. I guess the only question I have is which matters more: saving her or punishing him?"
"Saving her," he replied immediately. "I will find my own way of making him pay."
Green eyes crinkled in amusement. "Oh, I like you, fox. Very well."
The stranger held out a hand, but he hesitated, suddenly a bit self conscious about the poor quality of the brush he'd brought.
"The brush doesn't matter, only the other part."
Right. "What... sort of memories do I have to give you?"
"Whatever you're willing to part with, mostly. People who come for vengeance tend to give me almost all of the memories of the person they hate, but I really only need one."
So... one memory of his mother, plus some assorted others. That was a small price for what he was asking.
"Okay," he said, and handed over the brush.
The stranger took it, then lifted his chin with the fingertips of his other hand.
"Ooh," he breathed in delight. "Such vivid colors you have, fox. I'll be able to make something of very high quality out of you."
He probably should have been terrified by that, but instead the shiver that went up his spine was... not unpleasant.
The bristles of the brush touched his forehead, and his mind automatically brought up a memory of one of the many times he'd watched his mother do her hair and makeup before it was time for her to entertain. It was a mundane memory, but he'd always loved the meticulously elegant way she'd made all the big and small adjustments, slipping on her role like an opera performer.
It faded, first washing out like a painting that had been splashed with water, and then vanishing entirely.
He remembered the cultivational manuals she'd scrimped and saved to buy him, how they'd turned out to be fakes just like his father's promises. The lies written in them and all the hours he'd wasted studying and trying to emulate them faded, but not the awareness of their fraudulence.
It happened again, and then again, and he found it fascinating that the stranger seemed to pick and choose things with such care, leaving the lessons learned, even as he took what had taught them.
When Meng Yao opened his eyes again, he was lying on a soft patch of grass that had sprung up out of nowhere to cushion him, and the sun was just peeking over the trees.
He yawned and sat up to stretch, but before he could start wondering if maybe he'd only dreamed his encounter at dusk, a rolled up scroll floated in front of his face.
"Here's how it works," the stranger said. "You absolutely can't unroll it before you get home. When you arrive, then unroll it and tear off all four edges. Burn them to ash, then mix them into some wine. Hang the scroll over the head of your mother's bed and have her drink the wine. By the next morning, she'll be healthy again."
Those eyes bored into him from behind the mask. "Do. Not. Open it before you get home. Got all that?"
Voice sticking in his throat, he nodded, and the scroll fell into his hands. Clutching it so tightly he was almost afraid he'd crinkle it, he got to his feet and turned to go...
Then stopped and looked over his shoulder.
"Do... you ever make visits besides to make deals? Like if a-niang and I were to go lakeside this summer?"
The stranger blinked at him in surprise, evidently caught off guard by the insinuated offer, then laughed. "I haven't before, but perhaps I could. Run home first, fox."
Вдохновившись работой известного художника, я просто не смогла пройти мимо.
Это работа подбрасывала мне палки в колёса, то комп вылетит, то программа ничего не сохранит... Нооо. За 5 часов в течение 15 дней у нас таки есть итог!)
oh no! i dropped this screenshot that explains how to bypass this with a free adblocker! you shouldn’t reblog this or anything; it’d be terrible if people used this advice to watch ad-free youtube!!
References and Allusions to Male Same-Sex Relations in Chinese Literature
I am tired at this point of reading and watching Danmei/Dangai and be exposed to the same “cut sleeve” reference to allude to male same-sex attraction and relationships.
Don’t get me wrong, I thank the creative team and the writers for finding such a unique (?) way of bypassing censorship but there are so many more literary and historical references that they could use to allude to same-sex attraction. I’m kinda over the same old “Cut Sleeve” reference. 😖
Here are some of the most popular allusions used by writers in Chinese literature to reference male same-sex desire.
The Four Male Love Icons of Chinese Literature
I’m pretty sure that, if you are into Chinese history, folk, literature, etc, you have heard of the four beauties of ancient and imperial China. You have the four most beautiful Chinese women and the four most handsome Chinese men.
The same thing is true for the tradition of male same-sex love. Those are:
Mizi Xia (彌子瑕) and Duke Ling of Wey (衛靈公)
Lord Longyang (龍陽君) and King Anxi of Wei (魏安僖王）
Prince Zixi, Lord of È (鄂君子皙), and the Yue man (越人)
Emperor Ai of Han (漢哀帝) and Dong Xian (董賢)
Other literary allusions include:
Pan Zhang (潘章) and Wang Zhongxian (王仲先)
Lord Chan of Anling (安陵君) and King Xuan of Chu (楚宣王）
Hu Tian Bao (胡天保) as Tu’er Shen (兔兒神)
The four revered bottoms of Chinese literature and history are:
Mizi Xia (彌子瑕)
Longyang (龍陽君)
Dong Xian (董賢)
Chan (纏), Lord of Anling (安陵君)
If you ever come across a poem or prose that mentions any of those names to refer to a male beauty, just know that it’s an allusion to their stories. They were considered the peak of bottom literary reference.
