Only ever Nirvana in Fire

[lowkeydrabbles]

Jingyan falls to his knees beside the man on the ground.

He tries to reconcile the frail, weak figure before him with the vibrant youth of their past. What must he have suffered to become this. How did he bear it?

It’s in his eyes and the draw of his mouth. He was Lin Shu, but not the same Lin Shu Jingyan remembered.

“Jingyan.”

Lin Shu’s voice came weak and soft. Jingyan leaned forward, straining to hear.

“Don’t be afraid.”

Before Jingyan could say anything, Lin Shu closed his eyes and his head turned away. He’d drifted into unconsciousness.

Jingyan grabbed his hand. It was so cold. He needed to be moved somewhere warmer. He looked toward the bed at the other end of the room.

Lin Shu’s body was frightfully light, as if his bones were hollow. From Jingyan’s vantage point, Lin Shu’s cheekbones stood out. His neck, bared, was too thin. His throat bobbed as he swallowed in his sleep.

Jingyan examined his face. It was the first time he could see the man’s expression unguarded. He looked even more fragile. The exhaustion around the other man’s eyes was clearer than ever.

How much of that had been of Jingyan’s own making? He thought of that day when Mei Changsu stood outside the entrance and refused to leave, the snow falling ceaselessly around him. Lin Shu had been willing to sacrifice everything for him. His health, his happiness, his life.

[lowkeydrabbles]

“Xiao-Shu, what’s wrong with your wrist?” Meng Zhi asked, gesturing towards Mei Changsu’s hands, one supporting the other’s wrist as he poured tea.

Mei Changsu gave a small smile, but to Meng Zhi, it looked more like a grimace. “My lapse in etiquette earlier: I was careless.”

Meng Zhi refrained from saying more; his pained expression was enough. Nevertheless, Mei Changsu was grateful.

In truth, his wrists both had ached that morning, along with all the other usual joints. After grabbing Jingyan’s sword, the pain had gone from a dull ache to a sharp shooting sensation. At the time, he’d concentrated hard to maintain his composure, returning the sword and quickly sheathing his hands in his sleeves. No one could see the left hand gripping the other tightly.

[lowkeydrabbles]

The dragon curls protectively around MCS’s collar, rumpling the cowl at his neck, before crawling under one layer of his clothes, out of sight.

MCS bows as much as he can in the circumstances, hands folded together in apology to the two princes before him.

“It seems tired today, and on such days, cannot be forced out.”

Even if they believed it a lie, the two princes were not about to insult the Dragon Bearer and made their polite farewells.

What MCS doesn’t tell them is that the dragon would’ve reacted differently had they even a chance of being chosen. He also does not tell JY this, even as the young dragon willingly climbs onto the man’s shoulder upon their first meeting.

JY doesn’t move an inch, only his eyes following upward as the dragon clings to his hair, small but already long and serpentine.

“This is a promising sign, Your Highness. As Dragon Bearer, it is my duty to aid the dragon in its search for the rightful heir. Therefore, I offer my services as strategist. History has shown that the endorsement of the Heaven’s Dragon alone is not a guarantee of success, and it can draw the attention of those with ambition.”

“As a strategist?” Jingyan scoffs. “Sir Su is indeed different than dragon bearers before himself.”

MCS hid behind a polite smile. Once he had lived up to the reputation of a typical dragon bearer: strong, vibrant, shining. At the time, nobody would’ve been surprised if Young Marshall Lin Shu had been selected as dragon bearer. He had even joked often, with such youthful arrogance, that one day a dragon would descend from the heavens to entrust him with an egg.

As it was, he’d never expected to be given the care of a dragon at a time when he had barely been able to care for himself, let alone Da Liang’s newest heavenly mandate.

There was already talk about what such a sickly Bearer portended and why the dragon had appeared so late this time.

“Different perhaps, but nevertheless a useful tool in these times.” Mei Changsu poured a cup of tea he knew Jingyan would dislike.

Jingyan’s gaze sharpened at the implied meaning. It was no great secret that Jingyan did not agree with the way court was conducted for the last several years. Many other upright officials felt the same way, but had no power to speak up and excise the rotting corruption.

He wondered if this was all a trap. To think that he, of all the princes, was to receive the heavenly mandate. Could it be true or did this Mei Changsu have another motive? On the other hand, if it were true, at least it would confirm that the royal family had at least not lost the mandate, despite these recent bleak years, as Jingyan had at times privately wondered.

Even speculation that the emperor’s impending death must be nigh are kept to one’s self. While the arrival of the dragon was generally seen as auspicious, the following events were often tumultuous.

Many emperors’ dragons only stayed long enough for the coronation itself or a short time after. It is said that the longer the dragon stays, the more blessed the country. And whenever the choice for Crown Prince conflicted with the endorsement of the dragon, that’s when matters became awkward. As it was, MCS had successfully dodged that issue so far. His Majesty was happy to assume that the dragon’s impartiality between Yu and Crown Prince was an endorsement of the two equally. MCS smirked to himself. It technically wasn’t a lie.

(The last time one of the dragons was killed, the entire nation of the dragon and the assassinating nation both collapsed. Wrath from the heavens descended upon both without prejudice.)

[lowkeydrabbles]

Jingyan held Sir Su the whole night. His body was cold, cold as the day he stood in the snow before Jing Manor. It was only fair now that Jingyan used his own body warmth to compensate.

Whether his strategist was Xiao Shu or not, he had no way of finding out. His face, Jingyan carefully examined, looked nothing like that sunny beaming boy of his youth.

And his body was long and thin. He was taller than Xiao Shu by a little, which only exacerbated his frail appearance.

Still, Xiao Shu or no, this man had lifted Jingyan from the dark and hopeless place in which he’d lived for the last thirteen years with no expectation of reward. He had already made the mistake of misjudging his strategist once; he would not let harm come to the man a second time.

[lowkeydrabbles]

Jingyan held him through it to the end, the other shaking and shuddering until exhaustion left him limp in Jinyan’s arms.

Every month, Xiao Shu went through such grueling treatment, almost as bad as the poison at its height.

This was the first time Jingyan had been here to see it. He’d insisted, despite knowing that Xiao Shu didn’t want to be seen in such a state. But the fact that this procedure always left Xiao Shu bedridden for a whole week already gave Jingyan a good idea.

Still. It hurt a lot more to witness it in person. Xiao Shu could hardly lift his head, let alone sit up. But at least he would be asleep for most of the recovery.

And from now on, Jingyan would be there to watch over him.

[lowkeydrabbles]

Jingyan held his strategist’s hand. It was so cold.

Mei Changsu had been lying unconscious for four days now since emerging from the Xuanjing Bureau. The man’s physician, Yan, has been working furiously to mitigate the effects of the Wujin pill.

Jingyan tried to avoid looking at his advisor’s exposed skin, poking out from his sleeves and chest where acupuncture needles stood out like knives. The purple stripes around his neck made Jingyan’s own heart feel like it had been stabbed many times over.

He was the one who insisted Wei Zheng had to be saved. He spoke such grand words of loyalty and honor, but was willing to throw his own man into the arms of Xia Jiang instead of protecting him.

It had never occurred to Jingyan that the master strategist and Divine Talent needed his protection too.

[lowkeydrabbles]

Jingyan looks up at the abrupt choking noise. Sir Su dropped the small plate and chopsticks in his hands, shards and food alike scattering on the floor.

His hands shot up to his throat, eyes wide.

“Sir Su!”

Jingyan had only seen such a reaction in one other person before, but he didn’t have time to ruminate on the parallels. He rushed toward Mei Changsu.

Fei Liu ran for Doctor Yan. Jingyan cleared the mess out of the way and supported Changsu in his arms before he fell to the floor.

His body trembled and shuddered, gasping for breath, already pale lips tinged blue.

Dr Yan rushed in with medicine already prepared and wasted no time forcing it down Changsu’s throat.

Yan was ready with a basin when he summarily expelled everything, hacking and retching.

Fei Liu was patting his back over and over while Doctor Yan handed over a second bowl of medicine.

Changsu drank it down, then his hand holding the bowl dropped to the floor. His head lolled and eyes closed. Jingyan looked to Doctor Yan.

“He’ll need time to rest and recover.” Yan looks over to Li Gang. “When he wakes up, make sure he eats something. This morning’s breakfast was one of the few things he’s had the last two days.”

Then he inspects the food on the floor and misses Jingyan’s expression of surprise and worry. Sir Su had hardly eaten and Jingyan goes and gives him an allergic reaction. His heart ached.

Again Jingyan’s mind drifted to that person from long ago. But, no. He mentally shook himself. Many people have food allergies, it’s not unheard of. Moreover, Sir Su had such a fragile constitution. It was hardly unusual.

“Hmph, here it is,” Yan said, eyeing a piece of a hazelnut sweet Jingyan had brought over.

Jingyan felt his heart stutter for a moment.

“Is... Sir Su allergic to hazelnuts?” he asked numbly.

Yan froze and looked over at Jingyan. He seemed to deliberate a moment before letting his shoulders slump and nodded in affirmation, keeping his eyes on the patient.

Jingyan turned, staring into space. He mouthed what his mind was too afraid to think.

Xiao Shu.

[lowkeydrabbles]

Slap!

MCS staggered back and put his hand against the tunnel wall for support.

His eyes wide with shock, and, to Jingyan’s surprise, he thought he saw a flicker of hurt. Jingyan had expected anger or indignation from a man with as much pride as Sir Su. But the flash of pain on the man’s face spoke of a more personal grievance.

Jingyan didn’t understand.