i have to tell you that love is blindness by @unpeumacabre blew me away last night!!!!! (28k post bofta fic)
here's an excerpt that i just love:
“We are always only hurting each other,” he whispered, clenching his jaw to hold back his tears, “always only lying and apologising to each other. I’ve forgotten how to speak to him, how to read him, and yet - and yet - oh, how he confuses me, and yet he brings me so much joy. I didn’t realise I’d forgotten how to live before - before the journey, and, I know, it wasn’t just him, it was the whole damn company, and the whole damn adventure, but now I feel like there’s a great wall between us and somehow I can’t find a way over. To him. Oh, damn it all!” He beat his fists angrily on the bench, now quite aroused with anger.
soaring dragon dancing phoenix - 龙飞凤舞: chapter one
Yunmeng is no longer home for Wei Wuxian, for he is no longer welcome. And so when he visits he can always count on Jiang Cheng descending upon his head with the full strength of heaven's fury, to chase him out. But one day when he sneaks into Yunmeng again, days go by without Jiang Cheng making an appearance. Something has happened to Wei Wuxian's prickly shi-di, something that - once they reunite - they will find is far greater than they could ever have anticipated. Accompanied also by Wei Wuxian's dear friend (?) Lan Zhan and a Lan Xichen who has only just reluctantly left isolation, the four of them set out on a journey that will bring them across the greater part of China to the mystical Kunlun mountains of mythology - and more importantly, may bring them love, healing, and reconciliation.
If only Wei Wuxian could take his head out of his oblivious arse and start putting himself in other people's shoes for once...
Read on AO3 (bc tumblr might mess up the formatting + more extensive author’s notes on the story)
Count: 8k
<- previous
Wei Wuxian woke in darkness, and it was a darkness he did not recognise.
He sat up, groaning as the movement jarred his bones and made him ache in places he’d not known existed. There was something clouding his thoughts, draining his energy; after a few moments wherein he tried to get his bearings, he sensed the presence of a suppressing array designed to repress spiritual energy and sap his strength.
It was not a man-made array. Instead, it had the hallmarks of something far more ancient and terrible.
The amount of resentful energy in the air was so thick that he almost choked on it. In fact, if not for the suppressing array, he would have had trouble stopping the energy from churning through his body and sending him into a state of backlash.
As he stumbled to his feet, there was a crunch underfoot. Something sharp poked into his hand as he steadied himself against the ground. He felt for the object, and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realised he had stepped on and broken the jaw bone of a skull.
“Ah – “ reflexively he recoiled. Then he relaxed as he realised it was likely the skull of a deer.
As he blinked and looked about the room, slowly things came into focus. First he saw around him walls made of dark, dank stone. There was a sour, mossy smell in the air; the air felt thick with moisture, and he wrinkled his nose in response. His head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, and there was a faint ringing in his ears, likely from the blow to his head he’d received to knock him out before he’d been dragged into this chamber.
“At least whatever took me left me mostly intact,” he muttered to himself, fishing a talisman out of his robes and lighting it with a brief spark of spiritual energy.
He looked down, and realised that the floor was littered with more bones – animal bones, human bones, and unidentifiable shards which were coated in a thin layer of something shiny. When he nudged one of the fragments, it made a squishing noise under his foot, and Wei Wuxian instantly regretted his curiosity.
This must be the lair of the human-eating monster, he thought to himself, and this is where it chucks the remnants of its meals…it must have deemed Mo Xuanyu too skinny and underfed to be worthwhile fare, and tossed me in here for storage instead. It’s not my fault his isn’t a body which builds muscle easily! Why, if I only had my old body…
As he continued to stew indignantly over the monster’s disrespect of his physique, he returned his gaze to the walls, and suddenly realised that there was a passageway carved into the wall, leading into the next room. With one last glance around the chamber he was currently occupying, he deemed there to be little else of note therein, and trotted over to the aperture in the wall.
As he walked cautiously through the passageway, feeling his way with his hands and trying not to cringe at the thin layer of sticky moisture which gathered on his palms, suddenly the corridor opened out into a large chamber. More bones crunched under his feet, and now he found he had to pick his way carefully across the floor without falling over.
Abruptly the faint light from his talisman revealed a purple-clad body on the ground, and Wei Wuxian tripped.
Thankfully, he caught himself before he managed to fall on the body, and once he had regained his balance, he squatted over the body and squinted balefully at the face of the unfortunate person.
Jiang Cheng?! Wei Wuxian exclaimed mentally. What luck!
- Or, lack thereof, depending on how you looked at it. It was supremely lucky that he’d managed to find Jiang Cheng – alive, judging from the steady shallow rise and fall of his chest – and with all limbs and his head still firmly attached. But also supremely unlucky in the sense that they were now alone in a room with both their spiritual energy severely depleted, and without other Yunmeng Jiang sect members/Lan Zhan as buffers.
“Oh well. The rice is now cooked; what’s done is done, and there’s no way around it,” Wei Wuxian sighed. “I’ll just have to deal with his bad temper when he wakes up.”
Wei Wuxian leant over Jiang Cheng and scanned his body. There were faint lines on his temples where dried blood had trickled down from a wound on his head, similar to that on Wei Wuxian’s own forehead, but there didn’t seem to be much lasting damage. His spiritual energy was worryingly low, however, and it could barely be felt through his pulse point. Hurriedly, Wei Wuxian yanked open the collar of his robe and undergarments and placed his hand against his chest.
Thankfully, the thrumming of his spiritual energy was still present – very faint and weak, but still there.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING,” Jiang Cheng said weakly.
“Aaaahhh!” Wei Wuxian yelped, falling backwards and dropping the talisman. They stared at each other for a moment.
“Why are you the one yelling? I’m the one who woke up to being groped by a goddamn cut-sleeve!” Jiang Cheng shouted, albeit a bit feebly.
“Even when you’re half-dead you’re still so noisy,” Wei Wuxian said peevishly. “I was just checking your golden core! As if I’d want to touch you. Gross. And I’m not a cut-sleeve,” he added quickly.
Jiang Cheng ignored him, lifting himself up on his elbows and attempting to get onto his feet. He slapped away Wei Wuxian’s outstretched hand and managed to hobble upright on his own.
“My golden core,” he said suddenly, and looked up at Wei Wuxian with wild eyes. “I can barely feel it. And my senses feel dulled. I can’t think properly. What the hell’s happened to me?!”
“There’s a suppressing array in place,” Wei Wuxian answered. “Can’t you feel it? It’s suppressing your spiritual energy and sapping your strength.”
“Why don’t you seem affected then?” Jiang Cheng said, his tone mildly accusatory.
Wei Wuxian paused. “I don’t have a golden core, remember. And I’ve gone so long without one, I suppose it’s easier to get used to operating on lower spiritual energy.”
He kept his tone breezy and light, but even he felt that it was slightly over-played. Jiang Cheng’s jaw clenched and he turned away.
Wei Wuxian sighed. “Come on, Jiang Cheng,” he tried. “You know it doesn’t matter to me anymore. It’s an old wound, and I was the one who chose to give it up anyway. It wasn’t your fault at all.”
When Jiang Cheng turned back, there was so much guilt and anger in his eyes, Wei Wuxian found he could no longer stand it. He broke their gaze and looked around instead.
“We’re going to need weapons for defence,” he said, thinking out loud. “Spiritual weapons won’t work, since you’re low on spiritual energy, so Sandu and Zidian are out. Oh, how about this!” and he skipped over to the corner of the room, where a bunch of corpses were haphazardly piled on top of each other, covered in sparse cobwebs. A giant hairy spider crawled out of one of the skulls’ mouths and scuttled sideways into the shadows.
From their garb, the bodies had apparently been farmers or fishermen, and accordingly, there were various tools scattered on the ground next to them. Wei Wuxian picked up a few of the items and scrutinised them.
“Here, Jiang Cheng!” he called, and held them out. “Hoe, spade, pitchfork; time to play farmer for the day! Take your pick?”
Jiang Cheng grabbed the pitchfork without looking, his eyes trained on their surroundings and scanning the walls with what little light from the talisman remained. He clenched his fist, and Zidian crackled weakly, but otherwise there was no response, as expected.
“What do you remember before you were knocked out?” he said finally. “How did you find me here?”
Wei Wuxian was relieved to find that Jiang Cheng’s demeanour was back to normal.
He dropped the tools carelessly. “Hmm… I’ve been in Yunmeng for a while, and I went to – I met some Yunmeng Jiang disciples in Yunmeng and they told me you’d taken a group of your cultivators to the area outside the city where there had been a monster causing trouble and eating humans,” he said. “Since you’d been gone for quite a while, I figured it might be an interesting monster, so I came to have a look. I found the entrance to a cave in the area the disciples mentioned, but just as I entered, something knocked me out. Though I didn’t see what.”
“It was the same for me.” Jiang Cheng’s brow darkened, and his jaw clenched. “We must find the Yunmeng Jiang cultivators who came with me – whether they be dead or alive.”
Wei Wuxian nodded grimly. “I came from another room in which there were also many bones and remnants of clothing. There must be other rooms in which they may be found.”
They made their way sombrely through the various passageways and tunnels into other rooms which also reeked of dampness and decay. One by one, they found the distinctive bright purple robes of the Yunmeng Jiang disciples, covering bodies with the flesh only recently gnawed off the bones. For all of them, Jiang Cheng knelt by their sides and covered their bones with their robes, and arranged their remains tidily as best he could.
As he stood up from the side of the last corpse of the Yunmeng Jiang cultivators who’d accompanied him on his night hunt, his eyes were red with unshed tears. Wei Wuxian tactfully remained silent as Jiang Cheng took a few moments more to compose himself.
“We should get out and find reinforcements,” Wei Wuxian said at last, when Jiang Cheng’s colour had returned, and his grip on Sandu’s handle had loosened.
At Wei Wuxian’s words, he stiffened, and said suddenly, “What about the monster? It’s somewhere in here causing havoc. Who knows how many more people will killed in the time it takes for us to get back to Lotus Pier and fetch more people to help?”
“Our spiritual energy is so diminished, and we don’t have any useful weapons on us,” Wei Wuxian answered exasperatedly. “With this suppressing array in place, what damage can we possibly do to the monster?”
“Even if we bring reinforcements, they’ll be hit by the suppressing array too,” Jiang Cheng said stubbornly
“This creature is clearly a dangerous one, if our experiences have taught us anything, and one not to be taken lightly. We won’t be able to do much to it!” Wei Wuxian protested.
“Didn’t you kill the Xuanwu even while starved for three days, and heavily injured?” Jiang Cheng rebutted angrily. “Are you saying I’m not as competent as Lan Wangji?”
When Jiang Cheng was like this, it was difficult to deal with him. Wei Wuxian let his exasperation get the better of him. “Fine! Have it your way then!” he snapped. “For the record, I still think we’re going to our death. But since you’re being so pig-headed about it, we might as well try and find the monster and do what damage we can before we end up dying.”
They walked for a bit in a stony silence. The talisman, previously already on its last embers, soon shrivelled away into nothingness. Wei Wuxian wordlessly fished another yellow sheet from his robes and lit their way once more.
In the few moments in which darkness had reigned, Jiang Cheng’s expression had changed.
He quickly schooled it back to his familiar frown, however, and Wei Wuxian would have thought it a trick of the light, if he had not seen it plain as day.
“At least… let’s at least scope out the terrain so we know it better,” Jiang Cheng muttered, with a curious scraping noise, as if he were grinding his teeth. “Then we’ll know it better the second time when we come back with reinforcements.”
“… Are you feeling alright?” Wei Wuxian asked cautiously, with concern. “You don’t have a fever, do you? Why are you agreeing with me all of a sudden?”
“Shut up! Don’t make me change my mind!” Jiang Cheng said huffily, and walked a little bit faster.
Now I remember why Jin Ling’s princess-like temper seemed so familiar, Wei Wuxian thought to himself. He’s a carbon copy of Jiang Cheng as a child! No wonder, what with the way Jiang Cheng raises him.
Of course he would never dare to say such a thing to Jiang Cheng’s face, so they continued ambling on in more silence. Suddenly, Wei Wuxian stopped in his tracks.
“What is it?”
“I can sense something different,” Wei Wuxian said, turning his head from side to side as he attempted to trace the thing which had caught his attention. He closed his eyes and focused his mind.
It took him much concentration and mental capacity, but finally he sensed what had distracted him – a tendril of energy which differed from the constant thrum of resentful energy that threatened to overwhelm him at every step, the latter which likely came from the multiple corpses that they had left behind in the previous rooms. This new energy felt more similar to the force that sustained the suppressing array, but at the same time, curiously unlike. Wei Wuxian tilted his head to the side as he tried to sort out the tangled coils of energy in the air, into a more coherent map.
“I think I can sense the spiritual energy of the monster,” he said, after a few moments. “That is, if this creature is indeed the one that set up the suppressing array. Following its energy should lead us to its location.”
“There’s such a thick cloud of resentful energy. You can tell the monster’s energy apart?” Jiang Cheng asked in disbelief.
“Master of Demonic Cultivation, remember?” Wei Wuxian said, mustering up a grin. “I lived and breathed resentful energy for a while before I, er, before the siege on the Yiling Mounds.” He rushed on quickly before Jiang Cheng could become maudlin again. “It’s nothing to me, to tell apart different sources of resentful energy.”
“I’ve never before heard of a beast that was able to cast a suppressing array,” Jiang Cheng said, thankfully too preoccupied with the matter at hand to be easily distracted by talk of the past. “It must be a human-like monster then – but no, those were clearly the marks of an animal’s teeth on the bodies of my cultivators.”
Wei Wuxian nodded. “My line of thinking was the same as yours. I don’t think this thing is purely beast-like nor human-like, and it’s probably a mix of both, such that it’s able to cast a suppressing array, and yet attack people with such ferocity and strength. We’ll have to trace the energy to its source to find out.”
With a grunt of acknowledgement from Jiang Cheng in response, they continued trudging on in a firm, painful silence. This was a foreign concept to Wei Wuxian; even in his time with Lan Zhan, that taciturn rock of a man, he’d been able to fill the void between them with his aimless chatter and the playing of Chenqing. But something between him and Jiang Cheng still felt too raw, too new and vulnerable, to risk damaging with his usual frivolous antics.
This is so awkward, Wei Wuxian thought. Should I make the first move? But he might yell at me again. Hang on, since when have I been so afraid of Jiang Cheng’s scoldings? Anyway, what would I even ask him? ‘How are the lotuses doing in Lotus Pier?’ Um, no…
Surprisingly, however, Jiang Cheng was the first to break the silence.
“How – ahem. How is Lan Wangji?”
Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure he’d heard him right at first, but as he looked at Jiang Cheng incredulously, the question forming on his lips, Jiang Cheng flushed, and looked away.
“Oh! Er, Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian asked, loudly to cover up both their discomfort. “I haven’t seen him in a while. He’s Chief Cultivator, you know! Isn’t that amazing?”
Jiang Cheng muttered something that sounded suspiciously like I’m the Yunmeng Jiang sect leader, of course I know who the fucking Chief Cultivator is, but then he harrumphed and cleared his throat. Wei Wuxian magnanimously decided to let him off and pretend he hadn’t heard anything.
“I thought you two were inseparable?” Jiang Cheng asked, darting a sideways glance at Wei Wuxian. “And yet you haven’t seen him for a while?”
For some reason, that particular question grated at Wei Wuxian’s skin, and the light of the talisman flickered in response to his annoyance. “Well, he’s busy,” he said airily, “and… and I’ll see him soon. I’m sure of it. As if he could go a day without my presence!”
“He seems to be getting on perfectly fine without you,” Jiang Cheng pointed out, detestably reasonable as always.
“With Lan Zhan’s poker face, how can you tell?” Wei Wuxian returned quickly. This time it was he who walked a little faster, just to be spiteful, and just because he could.
“You look like you’ve been tramping through the wilderness,” Jiang Cheng said, abruptly switching the subject.
“I’ve just been living wild for a while. You know, living off the land, eating only fruits and berries, surviving by my abundance of wits as usual…”
“Hah!” Jiang Cheng snorted. It was not a nice snort, Wei Wuxian thought crossly, and in retaliation, he decided not to respond.
Jiang Cheng finally spoke up again, after a long while in which Wei Wuxian had been distracting himself with thoughts of a new classification system for demons of the five elements. “We’ve been going in circles!” he said, and his tone bridled with frustration. “I recognise that rock formation over there. I caught my hand on it earlier – look, my blood is still fresh on the stone.”
Wei Wuxian looked at the rock, and indeed, Jiang Cheng’s blood still glistened on its surface. He wondered how he could have gotten so completely turned around – hadn’t he just been following the tendril of malevolent energy? He could’ve sworn he’d felt it getting stronger, too, which should have meant that they were nearing its source. How was it that they’d ended up circling back to where they’d started?
“I thought we were following the energy from the creature,” Jiang Cheng said irritably.
“Shhh,” Wei Wuxian said, not paying attention to him. “There’s something else at work here. Something I’m not getting.”
Surprisingly, Jiang Cheng quieted down, and leaned against the wall. He did so surreptitiously, as if to escape Wei Wuxian’s sight, but of course he noticed.
Jiang Cheng must be more drained than I thought, Wei Wuxian thought, if he’s stopped arguing with me. Especially since he’s been here for a few days more than me already, and with no food or water. I must find a way to get us out of here - and quickly.
He mustered what little spiritual energy he had left, and focused. In his mind he pushed aside the suppressing fog that clouded his thoughts and distracted his attention, concentrating only on sensing the pulses of energy emanating from every wall in the passageway around him. There was the faint tendril of energy from the creature responsible for the suppressing array, yes, and overwhelming amounts of resentful energy pouring from the corpses of the creature’s meals, and underneath it all… underneath all that energy…
“There’s a maze array in place,” he realised suddenly, his voice echoing in the stillness of the corridor. “It’s cleverly buried under the other layers of energy in this cave, but it’s there. It must have been cast a long time ago, for I could barely sense its presence. And it was not cast by the creature maintaining the suppressing array.”
“That’s what’s confusing your sense of direction?” Jiang Cheng asked despairingly. “Then how are we supposed to get out of here with little spiritual energy and our only lead a complete dead end?”
Wei Wuxian shook his head, mustering a small smile. “Don’t lose hope so easily, Jiang Cheng! We’ll find a way out. We just need a way to overcome the maze array – then we can follow the creature’s malevolent energy without being confused. We just need some way of maintaining our sense of direction.”
“What do you suggest we do? Is there any way to track our steps, perhaps?” Jiang Cheng said.
Wei Wuxian tapped idly at the side of his nose as he thought, pacing back and forth in the confined space. Jiang Cheng’s eyes, lit up by the flickering light of the paper talisman, followed him back and forth.
“I could cast a tracking spell… no, but with my depleted spiritual energy, that wouldn’t last long… I have the Compass of Evil which I worked on to improve last week, but this creature doesn’t consume souls, and so it wouldn’t work… Oh?”
The unravelling hem of his ratty travelling robe had snagged on a shard of rock protruding out of the wall, and had caused him to pause in his steps. Wei Wuxian stared down at the little loop of thread curled around the stone protrusion.
Suddenly, an epiphany came upon him.
“I have an idea!” he said, excitedly, and began picking apart the hem of his robe. Jiang Cheng lifted himself off the wall and came over to inspect what he was doing.
“What’s that supposed to do?” he asked sceptically. “Is it just another excuse for you to go naked again? Oi, just because it’s just me down here with you - ”
“It was one time, and I was eight,” Wei Wuxian said exasperatedly, “and don’t tell me you’d never seen a penis before that! I don’t know why you had to act like a blushing maiden and try to stab me with your brush. We’re both men, aren’t we? Nothing you haven’t seen before!”
While he’d been going on, and Jiang Cheng had started spluttering and turning interesting colours, he’d managed to unpick the thread from his robe, and tied it around a sturdy stalagmite on the ground. He gave the limestone pillar a few experimental pulls, and it didn’t budge.
“Now we just have to follow the thread, and we’ll know which routes we’ve walked, and which routes we haven’t!” he said brightly, as he straightened up.
“That’s… actually a good idea,” Jiang Cheng said grudgingly, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at the stalagmite.
“I always have good ideas. Don’t you know?” Wei Wuxian said, grinning. “Come on, let’s hurry. I don’t know how many days have passed, but surely it’s been too long already. We should quickly find the monster’s hideout and then figure out a way to escape.”
It was indeed a good idea, if Wei Wuxian said so himself (and he did, multiple times, very smugly, so much so that Jiang Cheng started ignoring him again), and with its aid, they managed to find their way out of the maze of corridors that surrounded the rooms containing the corpses. Wei Wuxian heaved a sigh of relief as he finally felt the thick fog of resentful energy that had been giving him a massive headache, fade away into the background and eventually disappear.
Now, the passageways they walked were a little less damp, and a little less foul-smelling. There were even lamps embedded in the wall, unlit and covered with cobwebs, but obviously made by a talented craftsman. Wei Wuxian stopped to inspect one of them, and the style of its carvings and the technique of its forging marked it as a craft belonging to the dynasty of six centuries ago.
“Whatever inhabits this cave must be ancient indeed,” Jiang Cheng said grimly, as Wei Wuxian shared this insight with him.
They stopped abruptly as a carven wooden door appeared beside them, looming out of the darkness, leading into an enclave that branched off from the main tunnel.
The frame of the door extended high above their visible range, and as Wei Wuxian guided the talisman as far up as he dared without losing his tenuous hold on the charm, they realised just how large the tunnel was beginning to run. All they could see above them was darkness, and there was no observable ceiling. They exchanged glances, and with a mutual nod of acknowledgement, Jiang Cheng placed his palm on the door and pushed firmly.
It creaked open with a loud sound of protest. The noise made both of them wince and glance around sharply to see if the clamour had attracted any undue attention. But thankfully, even after a few moments of silence, they were still alone in the tunnel, with no foes in sight. Jiang Cheng pushed the door open all the way, and they peered into the darkness cautiously.
“It’s a library - !” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, his voice hushed, as the talisman floated into the room and lit up shelves upon shelves of crumbling, decaying books and scrolls. Jiang Cheng scanned the titles, trying to make out the words on their spines.
“Vegetarian Dietary Principles,” Jiang Cheng read out, “Journey to the West, Classic of Poetry, Classic – Classic of – Music?”
Wei Wuxian expelled a surprised breath and shook his head. “Whoever owned this library must have been a great patron of the arts - he’s even managed to acquire books which no one’s ever had a copy of before! It’s a collection to rival even that of the Gusu Lan library. But such a valuable hoard would usually be maintained zealously by its collector, not left to rot away in such a sorry state.”
The talisman settled on a pile of objects arranged neatly in the corner of the library, and Wei Wuxian felt his brows shoot up even further.
“A guqin, guzheng, pipa, dihu, yangqin – truly an impressive collection of instruments from all across China!” he said admiringly. “They’ve been left to gather dust as well, and they haven’t been maintained in a while. Things are becoming curiouser and curiouser indeed.”
“Perhaps the owner of the collection was eaten by the monster,” Jiang Cheng suggested.
“Perhaps,” Wei Wuxian said doubtfully. I feel that there’s something here we’re still not getting…
They left the library behind, unable to see much in the darkness and with their limited light source. Wei Wuxian had to light another talisman, for the previous one flickered and shrivelled to dust. Just as he did, his stomach let out a loud sound of dissatisfaction, and he automatically pressed a hand to his abdomen.
“I’m hungryyyyyy,” he whined. “Jiang Cheng, do you have any food?”
“Stop talking nonsense,” Jiang Cheng retorted sharply. “If I’d had any food, I’d long since have eaten it up already!”
“Ugh,” Wei Wuxian groaned, leaning dramatically forward as they walked. “I’m going to die of hunger. Who knows how many days and nights we’ve spent in here! It’s not like you have a set sleep schedule so we can count the days. We’ve probably been walking for a few days without rest already – and who knows how much longer it’ll take to get out.”
He felt his coat slip off his shoulder, and he looked down at it. Because of the unravelling string, his already-raggedy outerwear was falling apart, and it no longer resembled anything coat-like. Wei Wuxian shrugged it off and tucked it under his right arm, and was left only in his underthings.
“I feel the wind blowing through places I didn’t know existed,” he complained, shivering.
Jiang Cheng looked at him and immediately averted his eyes, a dull flush colouring his cheeks. “Shameless!” he spluttered. “What wind?! There’s barely any wind, we’re underground! Wei Wuxian, you’re truly shameless as always!”
“Now you’re starting to sound like the old Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian muttered under his breath. “One of him is good enough, thank you very much…”
Suddenly, there was an ear-splitting crash, and it was only their quick reflexes that caused them not to be buried under a large column of rocks that suddenly came pouring down on them. Both of them leapt to the side, and stared, bug-eyed, at the spot in which they had been standing just moments ago.
“Agh, my eyes,” said Jiang Cheng loudly, as the fog from the avalanche cleared, and piercing sunlight shone down on them from the large hole which had suddenly opened up in the ceiling of the tunnel, far above them. Wei Wuxian shielded his eyes with his hand and squinted blearily up at the hole.
…
“LAN ZHAN!!!!” he cried out happily, as he made eye contact with a very dear, familiar figure. Lan Zhan peered imperiously down at them, the sunlight making it seem as though his head was glowing.
“Speak of Cao Cao and Cao Cao will arrive,” Wei Wuxian said, bouncing excitedly up and down on the spot. “Didn’t I tell you Lan Zhan could be counted on to rescue us?* Huh? He’s reliable, isn’t he?”
*A/N: (he didn’t)
“Did you really have to invoke his name?” Jiang Cheng said grumpily, following his gaze upwards. “I always feel like he’s looking down on me, but now he’s actually literally looking down on me.”
Another figure appeared beside Lan Zhan and peeked cautiously over the edge of the hole. After squinting for a while more, Wei Wuxian realised it was Lan Xichen.
“Are you two alright?” Lan Xichen called down to them, his gentle voice filled with concern. “I’m afraid we went a little, ah, overboard in trying to get down to you two…”
“We’re fine, Zewu-jun, thanks for your concern!” Wei Wuxian hollered back up at them. “Won’t you come down and join us? We’re depleted of spiritual energy and unable to join you up there!”
Lan Zhan immediately flew down, but the moment he alighted and laid his eyes on Wei Wuxian, his finely-sculpted eyebrows shot up towards to his forehead.
“What – what happened to your outer robe?” he said, sounding faintly strangled.
“Oh – this? I used the string from my hem to track our progress through this cave,” Wei Wuxian replied cheerily. “There’s a maze array in place, although it’s quite difficult to detect, and with our limited spiritual energy there wasn’t any other way to stop ourselves getting lost. Jiang Cheng will tell you it was quite a clever idea. It must have been quite cold outside, Lan Zhan, your ears are turning pink! Here, rub your hands together…”
Jiang Cheng, predictably, ignored him and lifted his hands in a salute to Lan Xichen, who’d descended as well to join them. “Sect Leader Lan,” he said formally, and Lan Xichen returned the gesture. Jiang Cheng turned to Lan Zhan and repeated the gesture, a little more unwillingly.
“Here, take this,” Lan Zhan said, pulling a qiankun pouch out from his sleeve. Sticking his hand inside the pouch, he drew out an overcoat with the designs of the Gusu Lan sect and placed it securely around Wei Wuxian’s shoulders.
Wei Wuxian whistled in surprise and appreciation. “Lan Zhan, you came prepared! It’s one of your robes, isn’t it?” A thought occurred to him which made him laugh out loud in pure delight. “Ooh, Lan Zhan, are you embarrassed by my lack of clothing? You know I’m shameless, I don’t mind even if I’m just parading around in my underwear or even if I’m stark naked.”
“As you can tell, Hanguang-jun, he’s doing perfectly fine,” Jiang Cheng said acrimoniously. “The days of starvation and lack of spiritual energy haven’t done anything to dampen his personality.”
Wei Wuxian pouted. “Lan Zhan knows that,” he replied peevishly. “We killed the Xuanwu together under the same circumstances, remember?”
A soft laugh from the side reminded him of Lan Xichen’s presence, and he spun around to face him.
“Sect Leader Lan, what’re you doing here?” Wei Wuxian asked curiously. “I thought you were in seclusion. What brings you here?”
Lan Xichen smiled. “I was in seclusion, but Wangji came to me today and told me of your and Sect Leader Jiang’s disappearance. He was quite distressed by the news, and asked me for help to track the two of you down. And when I heard that A-Yao – that Jin Guangyao had been seen in the area…”
He hesitated, and said no more. None of them pressed him further.
“How did you manage to find us?” Jiang Cheng asked quickly, directing his question at Lan Zhan.
“Jin Ling wrote to me when he found that you were missing,” Lan Zhan answered. “We followed your trail to this place. And I could sense Wei Ying’s energy coming from here, so we entered here.”
“You could sense my energy?” Wei Wuxian asked, bewildered by this new turn of events. “But – how? Plus the suppressing array – “
“Where is the human-eating monster?” Lan Zhan asked abruptly, cutting him off. “Have you already killed it?”
After a pause, Wei Wuxian shook his head, and relayed the events of the past few days to them. It turned out that Jiang Cheng had been missing for nine days, and Wei Wuxian for three – that explains why Jiang Cheng looks so exhausted, he thought to himself; nine days without food or drink will do that to you.
Lan Xichen passed them water in a flask and two bags filled with baozi, steamed buns, which Jiang Cheng immediately started scarfing down ravenously. Lan Zhan took the other bag and held up the flask to Wei Wuxian’s mouth.
“Drink,” he said softly. One of his hands came up behind Wei Wuxian’s back to steady him.
Wei Wuxian drank obediently, thinking, I am so loved.
When he finished, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Lan Zhan immediately fished one of the baozi out of the bag and held it up for Wei Wuxian to take a bite. The meat inside the bun tasted truly delicious to his starved palate, and he couldn’t stop himself from letting out little ‘mm’s of enjoyment as he chewed.
Only when Wei Wuxian had finished munching on the baozi did Lan Zhan exhale and relax, although his hand still remained on Wei Wuxian’s lower back.
“Thanks, Lan Zhan,” he said, smiling widely. Something about Lan Zhan’s presence always left him feeling refreshed. “I knew I could count on you. You’re such a reliable friend. No wonder you’re the Chief Cultivator, indeed!”
“You’re fucking kidding me,” Jiang Cheng said indistinctly, and Wei Wuxian whipped around to look at him.
(If he was being perfectly honest, he’d forgotten Jiang Cheng – and Lan Xichen – were there.)
The two of them were staring openly at him and Lan Zhan, the bag of baozi dangling loosely from Jiang Cheng’s hand and Jiang Cheng’s cheeks still stuffed with bites of baozi so that he looked like a squirrel. Lan Xichen’s smile looked like it had ossified on his face.
“What?” Wei Wuxian said in confusion. He looked at Lan Zhan for reassurance that he wasn’t the only one bewildered in this situation, but Lan Zhan seemed to be trying to do something with his face, alternately widening and squinting his eyes at the two other people.
Lan Xichen coughed. “Never – never mind, Young Master Wei,” he said, his smile back on his face, although now it looked a little bit forced. “If you’ve finished your meal, we should proceed with your original plan to find the human-eating monster. Wangji and I have spent only a few moments in this cave, but already I can feel the effects of the suppressing array. Wangji, you feel it too?”
Lan Zhan inclined his head, his face back to its usual expressionlessness. “It was not cast by a human,” he replied. “The energy is different. Staying here longer than necessary will result in full depletion of our spiritual energy.” He materialised his guqin and played a few complicated sounding notes. Blue light flared as he cast the pathfinding spell, and it formed a faint line on the ground showing the direction in which they were to go.
“We must hurry,” he said brusquely, “or my energy will fail and the spell will disappear.”
“Got it,” Wei Wuxian said, nodding decisively, feeling much more comfortable and at ease now that he was no longer alone with Jiang Cheng, and Lan Zhan was here at his side. As they walked, Wei Wuxian filled the silence with his usual chatter, speculating about the origins of the creature and how it could possibly have cast a suppressing array, interrupted only by Lan Zhan’s ‘mm’s of acknowledgment and the occasional offered insight.
If he was speaking a little louder than usual, it was only because he could feel the supreme awkwardness radiating off the two sect leaders walking behind them. It wasn’t coming off Lan Xichen, no – Wei Wuxian had previously turned around surreptitiously to check on the two of them and Lan Xichen had looked perfectly at ease and his usual composed self. Rather, it was Jiang Cheng who was blatantly trying to avoid everyone’s gaze, and who’d answered Lan Xichen’s initial attempts at conversations with curt, albeit polite, rejoinders.
That’s strange, Wei Wuxian mused to himself, as he chattered on to Lan Zhan about his theories regarding whether or not beasts had souls akin to that of humans, Jiang Cheng’s used to silence and isn’t often fazed. I wonder if something happened between him and Zewu-jun? Or maybe he’s just tired. Or maybe he feels left out of the conversation between me and Lan Zhan? But that’s not my fault! He’s the one being all grumpy and crabby. I mean, I know things aren’t exactly back to normal between us, but I’d thought after the Guanyin Temple events he’d started to hate me a little bit less…
“We’re here,” Lan Zhan said, stopping abruptly, as the faint blue line on the ground ended and they were faced with a large door.
This was different from the door that had led into the library, for it was carved out of granite and not wood, and gems were embedded deep into the stone in a pattern that radiated out from the centre, where two large knockers were located. The faces of two door gods glared at them out of the darkness, painted as they were on either panel of the door.
It must have been a glorious sight, Wei Wuxian thought to himself, when the lamps had been lit. But now the gems only gleamed dully in the limited light from the talisman, and the paint of the door gods was chipped and peeling. Now their stares looked mournful, rather than stern and majestic, as they would have been before.
Words were carved into the upper frame of the door, large, sombre characters in ancient text. They looked as if they had been etched into the stone by a great claw, the edges of the words were still clear and relatively unchipped by time.
“Cave of… Cave of Dormancy?” Wei Wuxian read with some difficulty, for he had not practised reading ancient scripts to any significant extent.
“There is a great well of yang energy beyond this door,” Lan Xichen said from behind them, his voice almost awestruck. Wei Wuxian concurred. As they had been following the path indicated by Lan Zhan’s pathfinding spell, he too had felt the presence of a boundless amount of yang energy emanating from some unseen force, that now apparently lay behind this door.
Even in his weakened state, it felt ponderous and overpowering; he could not imagine what it felt like for Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen, whose reserves of energy were mostly intact. True to his thoughts, Lan Zhan staggered slightly, and the blue line on the ground faded. Wei Wuxian dropped the ratty overcoat tucked under his arm, and steadied him with a hand on his elbows.
The faint crackle of Zidian echoed throughout the space as Jiang Cheng clenched his fist, and he strode forward, placing his palm on the handle of the door.
“Sect Leader Jiang, we must be cautious,” Lan Xichen said, and in his gentle voice it did not sound like a rebuke. Jiang Cheng spared him a sideways glance, then nodded shortly. It took the both of them to push the heavy doors open, and Lan Zhan levered himself out of Wei Wuxian’s grasp to peer carefully into the chamber.
It was the light that hit them first, and blinded them.
Jiang Cheng grunted in surprise and cast his head away, for he had been the first one to gain entrance to the chamber. Wei Wuxian pushed his way forward and squinted into the blinding light.
Once his eyes had stopped metaphorically bleeding, he made out lamps on the walls, larger than the ones in the passageways, and this time, these were lit, with a curious iridescent flame that flickered and danced even though there was no wind.
As his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he began to make out more features of the room. It was a vast chamber, with the ceiling towering high above them, and every panel of the walls inlaid with gold and jade. Golden dragons snarled motionlessly at them from the corners of the room, their presumably-once-gleaming surfaces now flecked with dirt. Two thrones sat at the far end of the room – which was more like a hall – one enormous and golden, the other slightly smaller and carved in jade. A thin layer of dust covered every single object and surface in the room.
Except for the centre of the chamber, a shining golden pedestal, upon which lay a great slumbering long.
There was a sharp intake of breath from behind Wei Wuxian from Lan Zhan that told him he’d noticed the long as well. Very slowly, not daring to take even a single breath, Wei Wuxian stepped backwards and back into the passageway.
Once he was no longer in the hall, he spun around, his eyes open so wide he felt they were about to fall out of his skull.
“It’s a Shenlong. A heavenly dragon,” he hissed frantically. “The nine resemblances were present: the stag’s horns, the camel’s head, the demon’s eyes, the snake’s neck, the clam’s belly, the carp’s scales, the tiger’s paws, the cow’s ears, and most distinctive of the Shenlong, out of all the types of long – the eagle’s claws, of which there were five on each foot.”
Jiang Cheng’s were equally wide. “Is it… is it the real thing?” he managed. “Or is it a deformed copy, like the Xuanwu of Slaughter you and Lan Wangji fought?”
“He is a true Shenlong,” Lan Xichen spoke, and there was a subtle tremor in his voice. “He had the chimu atop its head, without which he may not ascend to the heavens.”
“That explains how he was able to cast the suppressing array, and the non-human aura of his energy, given that a Shenlong is a fully sentient being and not merely a mindless beast. But what’s he doing down here, though?” Wei Wuxian wondered aloud. “A Shenlong belongs in the heavens or in the body of water he governs, not under the ground where he has no access to the water which sustains him.”
Lan Xichen shook his head, his gaze equally uncomprehending. “Before we left the chamber, I observed that there were large lacquer panels on the walls with accompanying text, which likely depicted the Shenlong and his story,” he said quietly. “I did not get a close enough look at the words, however. But there is one thing beyond doubt – this Shenlong is unlike his more benevolent peers, and is responsible for the disappearances of the people of Yunmeng. We must find a way to observe both the Shenlong and the panels on the walls, which may give us a clue as to how to combat him.”
“According to the stories, it has superior sight and smell,” Lan Zhan spoke up. “It will be difficult to evade its notice.”
“It did not notice us when we first entered, however, and we were rather noisy,” Jiang Cheng said. “If we are careful, we should be fine.”
Given that none of them saw any other way to proceed, it was on that note of caution that they entered the chamber once again. Wei Wuxian kept his eyes firmly trained on the Shenlong, but even as they eased themselves slowly past the door and into the room, he did not wake. The lines of his magnificent, serpentine body rose and fell in tandem with his breaths, and the silky tendrils of his beard fluttered in the air that whooshed out of his nostrils. A pearl glimmered faintly from where it was nestled underneath his chin.
Wei Wuxian could not help but stop and admire his majestic beauty. It was truly a sight he’d never thought he’d see in his lifetime, for long were said to be mere figments of imagination, myths of the past.
But… I suppose, if there’s a Xuanwu, why not a Shenlong? It was a perfectly reasonable line of logic, he thought, and besides, unless he and the other three were having mass hallucinations, the proof of truth in those supposed legends lay before his own eyes.
It was only when he was sure that the Shenlong was deep in slumber, that he finally turned his attention to the four lacquer panels on the wall. These were clearly done by a great artist - like the rest of the statues and art pieces of the chamber - for the panels were carefully inlaid with mother-of-pearl and gold leaf carved into the shapes of miniscule birds and flowers that fluttered in and adorned the background of the scenes. Below each panel were lines of ancient script, carved deep into the rock by the same great claw which had labelled this cavern the Cave of Dormancy.
The words were not clear to him, given his inability to read ancient text, but thankfully, the pictures were evocative enough that he was able to get the main gist of the story. In the first panel, the Shenlong perched atop a mountain, watching as the towns and people in his purview were washed away by strong wind and rain. In the next screen, he was depicted swooping downwards into the fray and picking off various unfortunate victims from the deluge of water below. His large bulging eyes, created with carven jade gemstones, glimmered malevolently in the light. Blood gushed from his cavernous jaws.
Then, in the next panel, a Fenghuang – a divine phoenix - had descended upon the scene, and was tussling violently with the Shenlong, her long, sharp beak digging into the flesh of the Shenlong’s leg where it was buried. The artist had captured their likenesses so perfectly that the extended claws of the Fenghuang seemed to leap out from the painting at viewers, and her vibrant feathers appeared soft and inviting to the touch.
The scene depicted in the final screen was set in a familiar location: here, in the Cave of Dormancy, the Fenghuang presided over the Shenlong, the iridescent plumage on her wings spread wide as she cast her shadow on the slumbering Shenlong. His long body was now marked heavily with the scars of battle and blood, and he lay in exactly the same position as he was in now, atop the golden pedestal, feet tucked under his body and tail curled round his head; a curiously docile posture.
The only difference between then and now, Wei Wuxian reflected, as he glanced back to the actual Shenlong, was the array of bones now scattered haphazardly around his pedestal – some animal, some human.
The old stories only tell of the Shenlong as a noble and wise creature, who bestows rain upon peasants as a water god, Wei Wuxian thought to himself. This Shenlong must be a rogue one, akin to the black dragon of Jizhou which was killed by the goddess Nüwa. This Shenlong must have brought calamity to the surrounding towns and abused his power to consume human flesh.
All this information he recalled from dusty textbooks and boring lessons on rainy days that seemed a lifetime away – well, he corrected in his mind, for him at least, they were a lifetime away. But there was no time to dwell on his sad past, now. The important thing at hand now, was to find a way to defeat this Shenlong, and stop it from killing any more Yunmeng people. The only thing was – how? Wei Wuxian could see from the grim look in the eyes of his companions that they were similarly nonplussed.
In the stories, there were few who actually fought a long, and even fewer who survived, Wei Wuxian thought, his brain working furiously. Of those few, most were deities or gods like the Monkey God Sun Wukong, or the Third Lotus Prince Nezha. Long have few weaknesses and many strengths, and it will be difficult to conquer it without external, godly help…
Then, all of a sudden, came the clear, sonorous ring of a bell.
Immediately, all four of them froze. Slowly their gazes turned, from the four panels on the wall, and landed on the Shenlong sleeping atop the golden pedestal.
Yunmeng is no longer home for Wei Wuxian, for he is no longer welcome. And so when he visits he can always count on Jiang Cheng descending upon his head with the full strength of heaven's fury, to chase him out. But one day when he sneaks into Yunmeng again, days go by without Jiang Cheng making an appearance. Something has happened to Wei Wuxian's prickly shi-di, something that - once they reunite - they will find is far greater than they could ever have anticipated. Accompanied also by Wei Wuxian's dear friend (?) Lan Zhan and a Lan Xichen who has only just reluctantly left isolation, the four of them set out on a journey that will bring them across the greater part of China to the mystical Kunlun mountains of mythology - and more importantly, may bring them love, healing, and reconciliation.
If only Wei Wuxian could take his head out of his oblivious arse and start putting himself in other people's shoes for once...
Read on AO3 (bc tumblr might mess up the formatting + more extensive author’s notes on the story)
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One year after the events of the Guanyin Temple, and the death of former Chief Cultivator Lianfang-zun.
Lan Zhan!
I agree with what you said about Sect Leader Yao, that old fart. He wouldn’t know a good idea if it bit him on the arse. If I were you I’d have snuck into his room at night and shaved off his eyebrows – but then again, you’re Chief Cultivator, and you have to follow boring things like rules and protocol. Don’t worry, the next time I’m in Pingyang I’ll … It’s a secret! Look forward to the next time you have a discussion conference with that pig-headed old fool.
I’ve finally reached Yunmeng. Little Apple took such a long time to get started from the inn in Jiangling. I think he had a crush on one of the serving girls, to be honest. Even apples didn’t work to drag him away from her. I had to conjure a mirage of her all the way from Jiangling to Yunmeng to get him going – can you imagine that? One of these days I’ll have to find a nice little female ass to keep his little Little Apple happy … Hahaha! I can practically see you rolling your eyes at me now, Lan Zhan. You still can’t take a dirty joke after all.
Anyway, I digress. It’s nice to be back in Yunmeng and be able to pick all the lotus pods I want and to flirt with all the pretty Yunmeng girls, although none of them are as pretty as you are, of course. You’d make a big stir if you came to Yunmeng – you should visit with me one of these days when you’re free! Although I know of course you have responsibilities as Chief Cultivator etc etc but I promise you it’ll be fun! One of these days I’ll come kidnap you. Then Lan Qiren, that old man, would really have an aneurysm, ha! I’d kidnap you just to see his reaction.
Don’t worry about me, I’m talking nonsense as usual. I wouldn’t really kidnap you, unless I was really bored. And Jiang Cheng would probably beat my ass for trying. Honestly, it surprises me that I haven’t had the honour of Jiang Cheng’s company yet. Somehow, he always knows the moment I step into Yunmeng – it’s like he has a spell set up to go off whenever I’m in the vicinity??? And he never fails to turns up for an hour or two just to shout at me, thrash Zidian around a bit and tell me to go back to Gusu. Then he storms off somewhere to drink tea or something. I swear he’s going to die of high blood pressure one of these days.
Well, I expect I’ll see him around. He’s bound to turn up sometime or other. Looking forward to your reply, and counting every one of your twenty words,
Wei Wuxian
***
Lan Zhan!
Thank you for expressing your concern for Little Apple’s wellbeing. He’s eating well (as usual) and living happily in the city stables where I left him. He has a new crush on the stable boy though, but I’m not worried about that – it seems like his affections are as transient as floating smoke and passing clouds. He seems to be like his former master in the sense of being indiscriminate with regards to his choice of partner, which makes me wonder why he’s taken such an intense aversion to me. I guess it’s just the same old story with me and animals all over again.
It’s my third day in Yunmeng, and still no sign of Jiang Cheng anywhere. Perhaps he’s simply busy with some night hunt or other and can’t be bothered to whip my ass into shape. I’ve been visiting his favourite haunts the past few days but no luck – it seems like he’s really busy this time. I’m starting to worry, and although I never thought I’d ever say this, I miss his grumpy ass. It’s been the longest I’ve gone without hearing him call me a fucking idiot, haha!
Anyway I have a funny story to tell! Yesterday I went to investigate rumours of walking corpses at the base of Yunmeng Mountain. Apparently some farmers came across them and ran away but one of them was caught and eaten.
But guess what, Lan Zhan? Actually, it was nothing more than a group of hermits who’d come down from Yunmeng Mountain five days ago after meditating in seclusion for three years, and they were doing their Bagua ritual circle walk around one of the dove trees at the base of the mountain. They hadn’t bathed once in those three years, and so when the farmers came upon them and saw them chanting and moaning and pacing around the tree they were mistaken for walking corpses! Hahahaha how ridiculous is that??? Anyway I cleared up the misunderstanding. The farmer who was apparently eaten fell down a cliff when he was trying to escape from the “corpses” and broke his leg, so the hermits rescued him and patched him up. He was perfectly fine. I talked to them and they seemed like a pretty normal bunch to me – they were quite a big group when they came down the mountain at first apparently but then most of them decided to go down south and back home instead of lingering in Yunmeng. That’s about all the excitement I’ve had so far, I think.
Well, anyway, thank you for the twenty-one words you used in your reply. You have gotten quite adept at teasing me, haven’t you? Looking forward to how else you may surprise me next,
Wei Wuxian
***
Lan Zhan,
No, I don’t think Jiang Cheng fell off a cliff too. As much as you might wish for it to happen, he’s still my brother an important sect leader, you know! Anyway I already checked all the cliffs around the mountain before I received your letter so it couldn’t possibly be so.
Besides, I went to Lotus Pier earlier today – just to check on how things are going, you know, in case they need my help or something, nothing to do with Jiang Cheng. I just stayed outside the gates because I thought Jiang Cheng would probably descend from the heavens on a cloud and break my legs the moment I stepped foot into Lotus Pier, but some of the disciples spotted me and asked me what I was doing there. They said there have been people disappearing just outside Yunmeng, to the southwest and twenty li outside the main city, and when some of the Yunmeng Jiang cultivators went to investigate a few days ago some of them disappeared. So Jiang Cheng decided to take a few more of the Yunmeng Jiang disciples and investigate himself.
Since I have some free time, I’ve decided to help them out. They’ve been gone for four days already – the beast must truly be a handful indeed. It might be fun to go and help, although I think Jiang Cheng might spontaneously explode when he sees my face. Well, maybe the explosion will end up killing the monster, who knows.
It’s quite odd, though; some of the disciples who escaped even said they saw the spectre of Jin Guangyao, that wily old fox, hanging around the cave where they were attacked. Although of course that is impossible, for he is probably still trapped in Nie Mingjue’s coffin, fighting a battle till the end of time. Well, I guess I’ll see for myself if what they saw was true or not.
I had not known that you were capable of silk embroidery. Your skill is indeed fine – as expected of the esteemed Second Master Lan! I shall treasure your gift until the end of time. The cherry blossoms flowered today, and they made me think of you. I wonder if you still remember visiting Tanzhou with me when we were looking for the remaining pieces of the Yin metal? Was it your first time attending such a festival? You looked so surprised by the petals raining down on you then! I miss those times.
I will write to you again tomorrow when I have rescued Jiang Cheng from the human-eating monster. I will make sure to give you a good account of his face when he sees me there to interfere with his night hunt, ha!
***
Dear Lan Wangji Hanguang-jun Mr Chief Cultivator Sir,
I am writing this letter to you because I know you to be a good friend of Wei Wuxian. Just today, I visited Lotus Pier and found that my uncle has been missing for a week, and Wei Wuxian with him for two of those days. They have apparently gone in pursuit of a human-eating monster twenty li southwest of the main city limits of Yunmeng. It must have been a fierce creature indeed to have ensnared both my uncle and Wei Wuxian
Unfortunately, as I am currently extremely and regrettably tied up in Lanling Jin sect matters, this humble person would like to humbly request for your help in locating and possibly rescuing them. Thank you.
so, umh, this is for @unpeumacabre bc a week ago or smth my tablet was gone for a day and a half and (coincidentally!!) I had the sudden urge to draw a scene from her beautiful fic from memory with little to no reference whatsoever.
so, yeah. go watch/read Winter Begonia and then read her fic, it’s truly lovely.
so, uhm. ya humble-prompt-machine didn’t write for once but got to draw. who would have thought?
find the whole thing on the second work (“wangxianyu”) of my “I draw sometimes” series ao3 (that will redirect you to a sideblog bc... I don’t fancy getting shadowbanned here, ya feel me?) but the quality is not the greatest mind u.
the bl-ue pencil: a quality bl recommendation newsletter
Hi everyone! Given the copious amount of BL content out there, it’s difficult to know where to start - be it dramas, movies, or comics. As such, I’ve started a weekly newsletter which will be reviewing and recommending the very best (imo) BL content out there. I can promise you:
a weekly dose of Very Cute Asian Boys. Or men. Or both. I’m not picky.
both explicitly-BL and bromance/brotherhood-heavy content
a curious absence of cringey/tropey/overdone scenes
healthy !! happy !! relationships !!
if you’d like a weekly dose of BL content delivered straight to your email inbox, click the link below and subscribe - it’s absolutely free!
https://unpeumacabre.substack.com/
for more information, and disclaimers on my personal opinions/sensitivity towards queer issues, click here for the introductory post to the newsletter.
let me know if you’ve anything you’d like me to cover in future issues! and please reblob to help share this with more people, we all need more bl loveliness, thank you <3
the fourth issue is out, recommending FRONT COVER: a moving story of one Chinese-American man coming to accept his heritage, and his Chinese partner coming to terms with his own sexuality. I absolutely adore how this film raised the visibility of queer Asian(-American)s in film.
You can expect from my review:
a crack synopsis w lots of gifs/pictures
top 3 reasons why
resources for interviews and more!
Check it out here: https://unpeumacabre.substack.com/p/the-bl-ue-pencil-4-front-cover
Let me know what I should review next & subscribe for more quality BL recs!
the bl-ue pencil: a quality bl recommendation newsletter
Hi everyone! Given the copious amount of BL content out there, it’s difficult to know where to start - be it dramas, movies, or comics. As such, I’ve started a weekly newsletter which will be reviewing and recommending the very best (imo) BL content out there. I can promise you:
a weekly dose of Very Cute Asian Boys. Or men. Or both. I’m not picky.
both explicitly-BL and bromance/brotherhood-heavy content
a curious absence of cringey/tropey/overdone scenes
healthy !! happy !! relationships !!
if you’d like a weekly dose of BL content delivered straight to your email inbox, click the link below and subscribe - it’s absolutely free!
https://unpeumacabre.substack.com/
for more information, and disclaimers on my personal opinions/sensitivity towards queer issues, click here for the introductory post to the newsletter.
let me know if you’ve anything you’d like me to cover in future issues! and please reblob to help share this with more people, we all need more bl loveliness, thank you <3
Just published the third issue, recommending The Boy Next Door, a hilarious webdrama about 2 boys who aren't dating, they really aren't (just ignore the times they've been caught bathing together/living together/sleeping together) - so why does everyone think they are???
You can expect from my review:
a crack synopsis w lots of gifs/pictures
top 3 reasons why
resources for interviews, bts scenes and more!
Check it out here: https://unpeumacabre.substack.com/p/the-bl-ue-pencil-3-the-boy-next-door
Let me know what I should review next & subscribe for more quality BL recs!
the tortoise and the hare: a lesson in patience and understanding
Du Qi’s first impression of Xue Qianshan was, I don’t trust this man.
-
In which Du Qi realises that he isn't such a good judge of character after all.
this is actually a little bit sad bc i learned in vet school that these cows were created through artificial selection/selective breeding to have a mutation in the gene which normally limits muscle growth, creating this “double muscle” phenomenon - and it results in the mothers of these calves experiencing difficult births bc of how goddamn big their babies are, and they often have to undergo c-section. good job humans
the bl-ue pencil: a quality bl recommendation newsletter
Hi everyone! Given the copious amount of BL content out there, it’s difficult to know where to start - be it dramas, movies, or comics. As such, I’ve started a weekly newsletter which will be reviewing and recommending the very best (imo) BL content out there. I can promise you:
a weekly dose of Very Cute Asian Boys. Or men. Or both. I’m not picky.
both explicitly-BL and bromance/brotherhood-heavy content
a curious absence of cringey/tropey/overdone scenes
healthy !! happy !! relationships !!
if you’d like a weekly dose of BL content delivered straight to your email inbox, click the link below and subscribe - it’s absolutely free!
https://unpeumacabre.substack.com/
for more information, and disclaimers on my personal opinions/sensitivity towards queer issues, click here for the introductory post to the newsletter.
let me know if you’ve anything you’d like me to cover in future issues! and please reblob to help share this with more people, we all need more bl loveliness, thank you <3
Just published the first issue, recommending Nirvana in Fire, an emotionally-charged C-drama about brotherhood, political intrigues, and a very beautiful cast. You can expect from my review:
a crack summary detailing the general synopsis
three reasons why you should watch NIF
what to do after you finish binge-ing NIF and need a pick-me-up
Check it out here: https://unpeumacabre.substack.com/p/the-bl-ue-pencil-1-nirvana-in-fire
the bl-ue pencil: a quality bl recommendation newsletter
Hi everyone! Given the copious amount of BL content out there, it’s difficult to know where to start - be it dramas, movies, or comics. As such, I’ve started a fortnightly newsletter which will be reviewing and recommending the very best (imo) BL content out there. I can promise you:
a fortnightly dose of Very Cute Asian Boys. Or men. Or both. I’m not picky.
both explicitly-BL and bromance/brotherhood-heavy content
a curious absence of cringey/tropey/overdone scenes
healthy !! happy !! relationships !!
if you’d like a fortnightly dose of BL content delivered straight to your email inbox, click the link below and subscribe - it’s absolutely free!
https://unpeumacabre.substack.com/
for more information, and disclaimers on my personal opinions/sensitivity towards queer issues, click here for the introductory post to the newsletter.
let me know if you’ve anything you’d like me to cover in future issues! and please reblob to help share this with more people, we all need more bl loveliness, thank you <3
Ron: *shakes head pityingly* Mate, you need to get laid, get rid of all the excess aggression. Let’s go out to the Leaky tonight and find you a willing bloke. What do you usually go for?
Harry: *thinks hard* umm… Skinny? Uhh, if they’ve got a few inches on me, that would be great. Great arse, sarcastic, doesn’t give a fuck about the scar on my head, pale skin, also skinny, light coloured eyes, maybe posh, like a posh accent, long legs, little to no body hair. Also, skinny.
the year is 1601, a messenger has been sent to dongnae, and he has not returned. lord cho-hak-ju advises the joseon king to send crown prince lee chang to dongnae to investigate, but the plot he unravels there threatens the safety of the entire kingdom, and the stability of the dynasty.
a rewriting of kingdom, and lee chang finds love.
Rating: Mature
Relationships: Lee Chang/Yeong-shin
Read on AO3 (bc tumblr might mess up the formatting + more extensive author’s notes on the story)
Count: 4k
<-- previous
(included my author’s notes at the end this time since this is the epilogue, and i had a lot of feels lol)
“He was a brave man,” Lee Chang says softly. The girl stares quietly down at the square of blue fabric, slightly stained with blood – even though he had scrubbed and scrubbed, the guard’s blood had not faded – and she says nothing.
The guard’s wife has her hands around the girl’s shoulders, and she herself shakes with the force of her crying.
“He was a brave man,” he says again, more gently, and the two of them look up at him. There are tears trailing down the face of the girl, now, and she grips the talisman tightly in her chubby hands. “We found his body again from where we had buried it, and we would like to arrange the funeral for him. He will be given every honour that befits him, for he died to save my life, and I will be eternally grateful to him for his sacrifice.”
“Your Highness,” the woman says, but she cannot continue. Tears choke her throat and render her next words unintelligible. Lee Chang waits patiently for her to compose herself.
“Your Highness, thank you,” she finally whispers, throat hoarse with her tears. “Thank you for bringing Mun-pyo back to us. Thank you for your generosity.”
“Don’t thank me,” Lee Chang says uncomfortably. “It is the least I could do. You have lost the breadwinner of your household, and so it is only right that I give you enough to support yourself and your family. Please – no - ” He catches onto her forearms as she attempts to lower herself in a bow.
“Take it as the fulfilment of my debt to your dear husband,” he says to her, as she lifts her tear-stained face to his in bewilderment, “for I owe him my life.”
***
When he returns to his chambers, he is exhausted, both physically and mentally. The day had been spent meeting and speaking to the families of the three guards who had died to save his life, all those weeks ago when they had been journeying to Dongnae. The men had left behind two wives, two daughters and one son between them, and an aged mother who had broken down completely when told of her son’s death. Lee Chang had arranged for gifts of gold and silk to be given to the families, in compensation for the loss of their men, and for the old lady, he had given her care over to the girl who had given him information in Naesonjae. She was an orphan, all alone, and the two women had taken to each other immediately. The girl herself he had given employ in the palace, under the eye of a lady-in-waiting he knew to be kind and just.
Lee Seung-hui had been found in the dungeons of Hanyang, in one of the dark, damp cells buried deep within the surface, with the basest of criminals as his cellmates. Eventually, under strict and torturous questioning by Commander Min, he had cracked, and finally admitted his motivations for spreading the disease. It turned out that, three years ago, the event that had ended the war had been the formation of a large corps of monsters from the sick people of Sumang village – a plot devised by Cho Hak-ju, and carried out by Lee Seung-hui. It had been fear of exposure of the part the physician had had to play in such a dastardly plot, that Cho Hak-ju had used to coerce Lee Seung-hui into beginning yet another epidemic that had eventually devastated the south.
“One of the men was desperate, and ate the flesh of one of the monsters I was conducting my studies on,” Physician Lee had told the commander. “Then we found that it was eating their flesh that transmitted the plague far more effectively than infecting them manually. Lord Cho wanted to use that to his advantage, to create a distraction in the south that would draw His Majesty’s attention away from his plans in Hanyang. And he had hoped…” Here, the physician’s eyes had wandered towards Lee Chang, who had been standing unobtrusively in the background and watching the interrogations. “He had hoped that one of the monsters would keep the Crown Prince occupied in the south, far away from Hanyang, and that eventually, he would be killed.”
Lee Chang had exhaled then. Finally, the pieces were falling into place. Finally, he understood all.
He had granted Lee Seung-hui the mercy of death, a quick, private death at the hands of Commander Min’s sword. It seemed the thing to do, for the physician no longer wanted to live, and indeed, seemed to have gone half-mad with anguish and self-flagellation at having been the cause of so many deaths. He did not tell Seo-bi of anything he had learned in their interrogations, choosing to spare her the cruelty of the truth, and told her instead that he had died in prison from exhaustion.
He rather thinks she knows something of the truth, but chooses not to pry further. She is perfectly happy in her ignorance.
Lord Ahn Hyeon had also been implicated in the events of the war by the physician’s testimony, and at first, Lee Chang had not known what to think of his former master. The news had brought him anger and betrayal, at first, terrible anger, and a feeling that he had not truly known the man to whom he had looked up his entire life. That this man had been capable of such brutality and mercilessness towards his fellow countrymen had been something Lee Chang had been unable to reconcile with the gentle but stern guardian figure of his youth.
Then, after his initial grief, he had calmed himself, and thought more rationally. It was likely that Cho Hak-ju had been the mastermind of such a scheme, as he alone had the sly, ruthless mind that would have thought of such a plan. Furthermore, reading between the lines of the physician’s testimony, it had apparently taken days for Lord Ahn Hyeon to give in to Cho Hak-ju’s wheedling, and for him to agree to sacrificing the villagers of Sumang village. It had clearly been something he had been unwilling to do.
Lee Chang had forgiven him somewhat, then. He knows that he himself knows nothing of war, real war, despite his experiences in the south – the desperation of fighting against an enemy they had had no chance of triumphing over, the terrible choice they had had to make – sick villagers in Sumang, or the lives of the rest of the Joseon people.
Besides, it turned out to be a moot point in the end. Lee Chang had received a missive a few days after his coronation that had informed him that Lord Ahn Hyeon had passed peacefully in his sleep, the day prior. He had collapsed from stress and overwork, and it was found that he had been suffering from a chronic disease of which the cure was unknown. It had been a quiet, pain-free death, by all accounts, and a fitting end to the dignified and noble man whose only stain on his perfect reputation was something that two people in the entire world knew.
Speaking of ghosts from the past, Beom-pal had turned up in the capital the day before the coronation. Lee Chang remembers the encounter with a kind of resigned amusement. The man had had an unlucky encounter with a troupe of monsters, which had forced him to live in a cave behind a waterfall for weeks until he had been rescued inadvertently by soldiers sent from the capital to clear out the remaining monsters in the south. Beom-pal had emerged a hardened man, lean and fit, with little of the spoiled naïve Haewon Cho scion he had been before still in him.
Lee Chang had promoted him to Minister for Taxation, and summarily fired the previous one on the spot.
“I need support from those who once supported Cho Hak-ju,” he had explained later, drinking tea with the Minister for War, now a good friend and staunch ally of his, “and who better to bring them on my side than the last remaining member of the Haewon Cho clan? Besides, Minister Han was not to my taste. It was as good a reason as any to dismiss him.”
The man is indeed a far better minister than his predecessor, for he learns quickly and now knows how to carry out his duties in a manner that pleases Lee Chang. He still chases after Seo-bi, however, something that never fails to amuse Lee Chang whenever Seo-bi visits him and, with extreme confusion and worry, describes a new malady that Beom-pal has acquired in the past few days and needed her assistance with.
“First it was an infection of a cut on his hand, next a burn on his thigh, and now gonorrhoea,” she reports with obvious distress. “I worry for his health. He must take better care of himself!”
Lee Chang wonders how someone can be so intelligent, and yet so dense at the same time.
For she is indeed bright, and using her intelligence to great ends. Using their experiences in the south and the select few live monsters the soldiers had been commanded to bring back for her, she has been studying the disease that creates the monsters.
Lee Chang misses her dry wit and sharp tongue, honestly – for the past few days she has been gone, visiting the Yalu River to investigate a potential breeding ground for the resurrection plants, but he reminds himself that she is due back any day soon, and that reassures him.
Mu-yeong and his wife are now living in the palace, happily caring for their child, and spending all their days in oblivious marital bliss. It is almost impossible to be around Mu-yeong these days, for all his attention is – rightfully so – completely and wholeheartedly devoted to his wife and child. And so Lee Chang has been forced to take on another, lesser personage as his guard, a younger man who had been Mu-yeong’s protégé and good friend.
He is finding the lack of petty thievery of his daily desserts strangely vexing. Perhaps he will pay a visit to Mu-yeong’s rooms one of these days, and brave the infuriating cloud of marital bliss that hangs around his chambers, just to see his old friend. They had had beef cakes for dessert the other day, after all. Lee Chang remembers that it is Mu-yeong’s dear wife’s favourite. Perhaps he will pay them a visit, one day soon.
And as for Yeong-shin…
A lump rises in Lee Chang’s throat as he thinks of Yeong-shin, and he takes another drink from his cup. The soju burns its way down his throat and brings a pleasant buzz to the edge of his senses, but it is not enough to wipe his memory.
Not that he would want to.
The past two months without Yeong-shin have been… difficult, to say the least. At first he had felt nothing, thought nothing, and busied himself entirely with the running of the country. It had been easy at that time, after all, for there were always power-hungry officials trying to latch on to the throne, and petty land disputes, and aid to be delivered to the south, to occupy his attention. His days had been packed with his duties, and so he had had little space in which to think on his lost companion. Even in the nights he had had little effort to drag up his old hurts, for exhaustion overtook him the moment he fell into bed.
But as his position became more secure, and things began clearing up in the south – and elsewhere, where he was working on resolving the famine that had been plaguing the other parts of Joseon – there came more time to think, and more time to brood.
He regretted nothing, of course. Yeong-shin would have left anyway, with or without the kiss, and Lee Chang had not wanted him to go without at least taking some piece of Lee Chang with him. But it still hurts, to know that he is not wanted.
All his life, he has felt nothing like this, and he likely never will. Their bond is one forged through the flames of death and destruction, and any other romance seems insipid and lifeless in comparison. The officials parade their daughters in front of him often, attempting to find just one who will take his fancy and force him to break his vow, but it is to no avail. The more they flutter their fans and turn their skirts and peek out demurely at him from under beautiful eyelashes, the colder he feels.
A younger him would have appreciated the attention, he supposes. A younger him would have leaped at the opportunity, would have begun a harem like his father, and his father before him, perhaps. But now he is older, and he is tired.
This will likely be his life until he dies, he thinks, and it is not an unhappy thought. He has his friends around him, and a son to coddle and teach when he grows older – and, he has sworn to himself, he will be present for this boy in a way his own father had never been for him. He will give the boy all that he wants, and if that includes his time and his love, so be it. There can be nothing too good for his son, the boy who will be the heir to his legacy.
Yet despite all that, he realises suddenly, he is painfully and terribly lonely.
The thought brings him peace, as if giving voice to his feelings is an absolution in itself, and he looks down at his cup as he fills it once more.
“To loneliness,” he says, with a bitter smile, and his voice echoes around the empty room.
“To not being lonely,” comes a voice from behind him, and a hand reaches out and takes the cup from him.
Lee Chang jerks around, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword, a thousand thoughts running through his mind. It is impossible that someone could have broken through the guards in the palace, not to mention the guard at his door – why, he’s going to kill Mu-yeong when – if – he manages to get out of this, for leaving him to be guarded by a mere youngling of a man who could not even stop one bloody intruder from breaking in –
Then he stops, and blinks. He cannot believe his eyes.
Yeong-shin throws back the drink, and wipes his mouth. He nods approvingly at the cup, and sets it back down on the table. It makes a soft thud as it makes contact with the wood.
Lee Chang’s tongue lies leaden and heavy in his mouth, and at first he cannot speak.
“You - ” he finally manages, and stops there.
Yeong-shin sits down across him, and Lee Chang’s eyes follow him, unbidden, against his will, watching as if to make sure he does not disappear on the next blink. But he remains very real, and very much not a dream.
“You need better security,” Yeong-shin says seriously, picking up the jug of soju, and pouring himself another full cup. This he downs again with a flourish, and Lee Chang watches his throat bob with the swallow. He feels a thin layer of sweat begins to form on his skin.
“You grew a beard,” Lee Chang manages, a particularly asinine contribution to the conversation.
“So did you.”
Lee Chang fingers his beard self-consciously, and does not reply.
“It suits you,” Yeong-shin says abruptly, and makes an abortive moment as if to reach for the jug of alcohol again, but he draws his hand back at the last moment, and sets the cup aside instead. There is a beat of silence.
“Where did you go?” Lee Chang asks lowly, and the rasp of his voice is grating in the silence.
Yeong-shin turns his head, so his face is cast in shadow, and all that Lee Chang can see is the line of his profile, silhouetted against the dim light from the lamp.
“Back to Sangju. To my village. To find my brother.” His knuckles are white where his fingers grip onto the wood of the table. “He is not alive,” he says bitterly. “First I searched Gongju, but the magistrate said they’d never caught a boy stealing a jade hairpin from his wife. At first I thought him to be lying, but the guards’ stories aligned with his. And so I went back to Sumang.”
Sumang, Lee Chang realises, and he feels something horrible coil up in his gut.
“What did you find?” he asks, his voice quiet.
“Nothing. I found nothing.” Yeong-shin’s voice is toneless; there is no expression on his face, and somehow that makes it worse. “All I was chasing were ghosts. Beom-il lied – ah, I was a fool to ever believe him.”
Lee Chang feels his fingers twitch, and before he is able to stop himself, he has reached over the table, and his hand closes over Yeong-shin’s own. There is a roughness to his skin that Lee Chang finds foreign, calluses that mark him as a rifle-wielder, cuts and scars of a history Lee Chang does not know. But his hand is warm, and it feels familiar in his grasp.
Yeong-shin looks down at their hands, clasped against the grain of the wood – one dark and scarred, one paler but no less hardened. Something in his body softens, then, almost unnoticeable, were it not for the fact that Lee Chang knows his every, subtle movement by heart. Under the weight of Lee Chang’s palm, Yeong-shin’s hand relaxes, and the tension bleeds out of him – although he still carries himself ramrod-straight and alert.
“I am sorry for your loss,” Lee Chang murmurs, and the words have never felt more hollow. Yeong-shin side-eyes him.
“Do you remember what you said to me two months ago?” he says suddenly, standing up. He crosses to the window and stares out into the darkness. He remains motionless, calm, steady as a rock in the face of a snowstorm – and abruptly Lee Chang feels a wave of irritation wash over him at his composure. It is simply unfair, Lee Chang thinks furiously, that he is the only one so affected by Yeong-shin’s presence, when Yeong-shin is so clearly unperturbed by his!
So caught up is Lee Chang in his inner train of thoughts that he does not answer, and he only realises that Yeong-shin is waiting for a reply to his question, when the man turns and looks questioningly at him. Lee Chang blinks, and comes back to himself.
Then he notices how tightly Yeong-shin’s jaw is clenched. Sees how the tip of his forefinger is beating an agitated rhythm, ever so slightly - but still detectably - against the wood of the windowsill.
“I remember,” he says carefully, weighing every word, for every syllable he utters drops heavily into the silence of the room, “that I confessed my love for you. But I also remember that I asked for nothing in return – that I expected nothing in return.”
“And I told you that I needed time to think,” Yeong-shin says.
“Yes.”
“It has been two months.” There is something in his voice that Lee Chang cannot quite place, and Lee Chang feels a vice begin to clench around his heart.
“Yes. Are we going to keep exchanging statements of fact, or did you come here with something else to say?” Somehow, he keeps his tone light.
It startles a sudden startled harsh bark of laughter out of Yeong-shin, and the sound is surprisingly bright. The snow drifts quietly past the window, piling up on the windowsill, and lending a soft glow to the light that suffuses Yeong-shin’s skin. He looks almost regal then, despite his tattered clothes and rough features, as if he belongs there in Lee Chang’s quarters, and the vice tightens.
“You are a prince – no, the king of Joseon,” Yeong-shin says softly, running his fingers absently on the windowsill, but his eyes are intent on Lee Chang. “And I am a chakho. Nothing more than a commoner.”
Ah. He thinks, finally, he sees where Yeong-shin is going with this.
Something begins to unfurl in his chest, filling his body with a warmth he has not felt in months. Lee Chang stands, slowly, and makes his way over to the window – quietly, gently, as if approaching a wild animal with hand extended, an animal which could either bite or flee at any moment. But he does not think Yeong-shin will do either of those things.
“And so, in our time apart, you have thought of all the reasons why we should not be together,” Lee Chang says lightly, “and you have convinced yourself that these reasons are unsurmountable.”
The stubborn silence from Yeong-shin is enough. He does not make any move to reach out to Lee Chang, but his eyes follow Lee Chang’s movements as he crosses the room, and there is an almost hungry light in his gaze that urges Lee Chang on.
Lee Chang reaches his side, and lays a hand on his arm. The man startles in reaction, just a minute tremor, but because they are connected, Lee Chang can feel his every movement. They are so close that he can feel Yeong-shin’s body heat radiating against his skin, and hear every quick shallow breath he takes.
“I have not, however,” Lee Chang says, “heard anything of what you feel for me.”
“You have not married in the last two months,” Yeong-shin says, looking away and out of the window again. The snowfall is deeper today than it had been all those weeks ago, when Lee Chang had stood by the same window and refused to look at the door till his room was empty. The footprints the palace maids and guards leave – they stay in the snow, now, and remain even as fresh snow falls.
“Yes,” Lee Chang replies, suddenly losing patience. “It is unlike you to be so unsure, Yeong-shin. What is it you wish to say to me?”
“When I lost my brother,” Yeong-shin says jerkily, his gaze blank and unseeing, “The pain was… like nothing I’d ever felt before. I’d sworn to protect him, but in the end, my promises meant nothing, and still he was taken from me. Yeong-ryu… he relied on me, and I could do nothing for him still. Even with all my strength and weapons, there was no one I could save.
“And you…” Yeong-shin’s eyes drift shut, as if he can no longer bear to look out the window. “I can protect you, for now, but there is no guarantee that I can do so indefinitely. The officials will not let you live without a wife, and they will plot and scheme until they can take control of the throne, and if you died… if you died, I do not think I would be able to go on living.”
Lee Chang feels as if he has just been struck by lightning.
Finally he sees Yeong-shin laid bare before him – unsure of their future together, unwilling to be the reason for Lee Chang’s demise, and yet, warring with that fear because of his desire to protect. At the core of this bright, shining, powerful man is someone who is afraid of loss, for it has been his constant companion all these lonely years.
But Lee Chang is different. Yeong-shin will protect him, and he will protect Yeong-shin in turn.
Gently, Lee Chang lifts his other hand to Yeong-shin’s face, and cradles his cheeks in the palm of his hand. Yeong-shin’s eyes open, slowly as if hypnotised and against his will, and he fixes his gaze on Lee Chang’s face.
“I am the king,” Lee Chang whispers, and every word is infused with conviction, for his words come from the heart. “What I want, I receive, and if I want you, there will only be one thing that can stop me – you. You know I will not let the ministers or the people have any say in my private affairs. If I am to be allowed some, occasional, arrogance – why, I have been a good king, so far, and I have done nothing deserving of complaint. I have named my heir, and he is under great protection here under my roof. There is no one who I will allow to have any say in our relationship.” He grips Yeong-shin tighter to him, as if it will stop the subtle tremors that have begun in the other man’s body. “Be mine to treasure,” he murmurs, his head lowered, their foreheads brushing feather-light against each other. “And I will be yours to protect.”
There is a long silence for a while.
“I did miss you,” Yeong-shin says quietly. “Every day. I missed you fiercely. At first I thought I missed the loss of a fellow warrior, someone I respected and loved as a shield brother. Then my longing became more terrible, and I thought it was because I missed you as my charge, as someone to protect. But the truth is not so simple.” He turns his hand, palm-up, so that his fingers intertwine with Lee Chang’s.
“I love you,” he says simply, and Lee Chang must forgive him for not meeting his eyes as he makes his confession.
“And I, you,” Lee Chang sighs, as he leans in for a kiss.
There are many problems as yet unresolved. Lee Chang knows that this will not be the last time their insecurities and inner demons – both his and Yeong-shin’s – damage their relationship, or set them back. There is as yet so much unknown about the resurrection plant, and out there, somewhere, monsters may still be made. The officials wilfully persevere with their scheming and plotting behind his back, and he must continue to strengthen his precarious hold on the throne, all while keeping safe the people who matter to him.
But those are problems for a future him, and a future them. Right here, right now, with Yeong-shin in his arms and the snowflakes falling on the footprints in the snow, Lee Chang feels invincible, and he feels like a king.
A/N: ahhhh it's finished!!! thank you to everyone for sticking with me all the way (readers both old and new) - this has been my first experience with the kingdom fandom and i have to say i've enjoyed every single moment of it. y'all are seriously such gems and it's been amazing hearing your thoughts, speaking to y'all etc ahhhh <3 this was my first (and probably last) kingdom fanfic unless inspiration suddenly seizes again, lol, but this pretty much covered all my kingdom feels.
(shameless self-promotion) and i'm currently writing another monster fic for mdzs/cql so if you're in that fandom i hope to see you again!! please talk to me here on tumblr and seriously, i love all of you so much, thank you!!
read on for long rambly thoughts on this monster:
writing this was sort of a cathartic purge for me, after binging kingdom... i loved lee chang's character so much, honestly, and i wanted to give him a proper love story. i have to be honest, it wasn't till i went onto ao3 that i even considered changshin as a pairing, but after i read a few fics i was like, i'm in too deep ;;; and i wound up wanting to write a story that was a slow evolution of their relationship, from reluctant acquaintances, to brothers-in-arms with unconditional trust, and then slowly, to love. which is why it took yeong-shin so goddamn long to realise he loves lee chang, sksksksksk
but yeah i thought it was far more realistic to write this kind of love story rather than one in which they fell in love at first sight, especially in the (somewhat) au i built, where it probably never even occurred to either of them that (1) they were possibly attracted to men, and (2) that they should even be thinking about love in this period of time wtf ;_; but yeah i thought what would draw them to each other was sort of a more intellectual, spiritual attraction, rather than one based purely on lust (even though they're both very good-looking, i fully admit)...
at first i was dissatisfied with the ending, because it seemed a bit lukewarm, but then on reading it again i thought it had the kind of hopeful, tender feeling which i wanted to conjure... although y'all might feel differently?? I KNOW, I WOULD HAVE WANTED A MORE FLESHED OUT KISS SCENE TOO AHHHHH in my head i was like wtf is this, is it a barbara cartland novel??? what's with that shitty regency-esque kiss description??? but in the end it didn't feel natural with the style of writing and the flow of the chapter to write more into the kiss, i'm sorry, i think i'm just a coward T.T but yes!! please let me know your thoughts!! (and thank you for reading all the way, i know i always ramble lmao)
the year is 1601, a messenger has been sent to dongnae, and he has not returned. lord cho-hak-ju advises the joseon king to send crown prince lee chang to dongnae to investigate, but the plot he unravels there threatens the safety of the entire kingdom, and the stability of the dynasty.
a rewriting of kingdom, and lee chang finds love.
Rating: Mature
Relationships: Lee Chang/Yeong-shin
Read on AO3 (bc tumblr might mess up the formatting + more extensive author’s notes on the story)
Count: 1k
<-- previous next -->
“This is my father,” Lee Chang says, with finality. “He was once one of the greatest kings Joseon ever knew, but now he has been reduced to something less than human – a treacherous feat carried out by none other than the woman you see standing before you!”
The monster thrashes in its bindings, spittle flying and its jaw – dislocated by its overenthusiastic struggles – hanging grotesquely and rattling with every violent movement it makes. Blood drips from its blackened skin and its eyes, unseeing, roll and dart from side to side.
It makes for a truly unnerving sight, and again Lee Chang feels his heart clench at the sight of his regal father reduced to such a pitiful figure.
“Arrest the queen!” cries one of the ministers from behind him. Lee Chang turns at the familiar voice, and nods in approval as he catches the eye of the Minister of War - a man who had been kind to him in his youth, and who had been tacitly in support of his initial plans to stage a coup for the throne.
The Commander moves forward to take her into custody, but immediately she springs into action, drawing a sword from behind her and hefting it aloft. Although Lee Chang has never before seen her don a weapon, she holds it with a reckless confidence that speaks of her desperation and fury. Instinctually he starts forward as the baby begins to fall from her other arm, but she catches herself and manages to return the bundle of cloth back to her hip. The baby, jostled awake, begins to howl its anger and dissatisfaction.
“Step back!” she shrieks. “Step back! Or I will kill this child!”
Commander Min continues forward, but Lee Chang makes a slicing motion with his hand, and with a side glance at him, the man stops.
“It is not a child of the royal line!” protests one of the officials. “What does its life matter?”
“What do you mean by that!” thunders Lee Chang. “Every life is a life worth saving. It means nothing that it is not of the royal line. It is still a living child!”
The queen laughs, a chilling sound that is dissonant with the sound of the baby’s infuriated cries.
“My father said it would be easy to kill you,” she says, “and he was right. You’re nothing more than a spineless fool caught up in your conceptions of morality. You should’ve just died at the hands of the monsters.”
“Let the child go,” Lee Chang calls desperately, but at the same time, his hand closes over Yeong-shin’s wrist.
Yeong-shin does not say anything, but a small sigh escapes through his teeth.
Lee Chang continues to talk, his eyes trained on the baby in her arms. “He is an innocent child,” he says. “He has no part in our fight. Let him go.”
“You are truly a fool if you think your words can sway me,” she laughs coldly, and takes another step back. She is almost to the door at the back of the audience chamber. “The child’s life matters not to me. It is not even my child. And even if it were - ”
She never gets to finish her sentence, for at that moment, Yeong-shin’s sword slashes through the bindings holding the monster-who-was-king, and he gives a mighty shove to its back, throwing it halfway across the room towards the queen. Instantly, Lee Chang leaps forward. His blade sings as it leaves its sheath.
The queen shrieks as the monster descends on her. She makes a pass at its neck with her sword, but the blow glances off the many metal accessories adorning its clothes, and she howls in pain as she twists her wrist.
Lee Chang rips the baby from her hands and brings his sword down decisively on the monster’s neck. It severs his head, and both parts of its body fall onto the ground with a soft thud.
Blood drips from his sword and stains the pristine soles of the queen’s socks. She is covered in it, covered in the blood and offal of her former husband, and Lee Chang thinks it is poetic in a way.
The monster had bitten into her leg before he had managed to kill it, numerous large merciless bites which had torn flesh from her waif-like legs and left white bone gleaming in the muted lamplight. It will be a painful death, he knows, even if she is treated, for the wounds will fester and spread infection to the rest of her body. His hand tightens on the handle of his sword.
“This is the last favour I grant to you,” he says quietly. “On the basis that you once were my father’s bride, and once my supposed mother.” And he lifts his blade once more.
***
Later, days later, when the bodies have been disposed of and the surroundings thoroughly scrubbed over by the palace maids, Lee Chang stands before the throne.
“It is yours, Your Highness,” says the Minister of War, his voice respectful.
“Thank you,” Lee Chang answers, but still he hesitates.
Somehow he had always imagined that he would ascend to the throne in rather a different way. Had always thought that, when the time came for him to take his rightful seat, it would have been to fanfare and the enthusiastic cheers of his new subjects. But now – he stands only recently exonerated from murder, covered in the blood of his father and false-mother, and the deaths of a hundred others on his hands.
Then again – no one could have predicted this turn of events, could they?
He has never doubted that he would make a good king. Not until today, this moment in time. It is ironic, he supposes, that it was only in his overconfident youth that he had thought himself on top of the world, and now that he has been baptised through blood and fire, he has lost that confidence in himself.
Suddenly he feels warmth at his back, and Yeong-shin is there behind him. He does not say a word, and he does not touch Lee Chang, but his very presence calms him. Lee Chang turns, only slightly, so that he can see Yeong-shin’s face out of the corner of his eye.
Yeong-shin’s gaze is intent on his, and in his eyes there is only Lee Chang’s reflection.
“You give me courage,” Lee Chang says softly, so softly that none other but Yeong-shin would be able to hear. “You are willing to die for me, to follow me to the ends of the earth, and somehow that does not bring me fear – but courage.”
Yeong-shin’s eyes gentle infinitesimally, and the corner of his mouth tips upwards. It is the first time that Lee Chang has seen him smile.
He turns back to the throne, and squares his shoulders. It is his responsibility, his birth-right, and it is a role that he will not shirk – indeed, he will embrace it, as the duty he has dedicated his entire life towards fulfilling. And so he ascends the steps to the throne, and seats himself on the seat he has watched his father take, his entire life.
There is a heaviness that he had not realised his father carried, that descends upon him as he takes the throne. The weight of responsibility is a difficult one to bear indeed, he realises, as he looks out upon the assembled ministers, bowing and awaiting his next command. Yeong-shin, Mu-yeong and Seo-bi are the only ones still standing, for he has ordered them to refrain from kowtowing.
“Today, I take the throne as King Seonjo, from my father King Gongheon Heoneui Somun Gwangsuk Gyeonghyo the Great,” he says calmly. It is my honour to serve my people.”
“Long live the king,” the ministers chorus, and they bow, once, twice, thrice, four times. The sonorous, synchronous rustle of their clothes as they move echoes through the hall, and it is a solemn sound. Lee Chang inclines his head in acknowledgement of their gestures of fealty.
He is not properly king yet, he knows – that will have to wait for the official coronation, when he bids goodbye to his father’s tomb and makes his pledge to rule fairly and generously; but it is enough. Enough for him to begin to bring together the pieces of their broken country. Enough for him to thread his needle, and begin the arduous task of patching the seams back together.
The meeting passes quickly. First the Minister for Rites speaks of the need for a coronation, to unite the people behind the crowning of a new monarch and hopefully hide the disgraces of the Haewon Cho clan’s plots, behind a veneer of celebration. It is unanimously agreed upon that the event should be staged as soon as possible, to reduce potential uprisings in the absence of a king, and before rumours begin to spread about the happenings in the palace.
Then the Minister for Taxation raises the issue of the lost taxes from the south, given that their crops have been largely destroyed by rogue monsters from the plague trampling all over the fields, and livestock decimated by starving peasants. He openly suggests for taxes to be increased in the rest of the empire, to make up for lost income.
To that, Lee Chang does not even pay him the courtesy of his attention.
“Minister Han,” he says instead, coldly, icily, “taxes will not be raised, and that is the end of the matter.” He turns to the Minister for War.
“Minister Seong, we must send men to the south to eliminate the rest of the monsters, and safeguard what remaining food and resources the south has,” he continues. “How many men can we spare?”
Summarily dismissed, the Minister for Taxation shrinks into himself and withdraws. He will be someone to keep an eye on.
And so the meeting continues, in much the same manner. Many of Lord Cho’s cronies – and, indeed, many officials who had been loyal to his father as well – make frivolous suggestions about matters of little import, until Lee Chang feels like banging his head on the nearest pillar and committing suicide. Is this the glorious role he had envisioned himself taking on, his whole life? He had known kingship to be a tiresome job, oftentimes, from the strict words of his tutors, but in his memories his father had always ruled supreme over his officials.
It is only now that he realises that that control had been hard-won, and the officials’ respect well-earned.
It will be a long battle ahead of him, just to fight for recognition from the ministers, when most of them have not seen his achievements in the south, and think of him still as the spoiled man-child he had been when he had left Hanyang.
But, he thinks to himself, it is a battle that deserves fighting, and indeed, one he knows he will win.
The Minister for Rites steps forward, and prepares to raise one last issue. Lee Chang readies himself for another tedious spiel, possibly about building a statue of himself in the middle of Hanyang or remodelling the curtains in the East Wing of the palace or some other trivial matter like so, but he finds himself surprised.
“There is one last matter, Your Highness,” says the man gravely, with a facetious bow. “You must take a wife.”
Lee Chang turns his head, very slowly, and looks upon the Minister. He does not speak, and so the man takes it as his cue to continue.
“There must be a new heir to the throne, Your Highness. You are childless – if you don’t mind me saying – but the royal line must go on. May I offer – if my humble self could perhaps give a suggestion – I have a daughter, nine years your junior, and she is known to be one of the beauties of the capital. If Your Highness so pleases, it would be an honour to arrange a matchmaking session between your esteemed self and my humble daughter.”
“Your Highness!” calls another minister, and he comes forward with an equally pompous bow. “My daughter is twenty-two years this year, and therefore in the prime of her youth – it would be an honour for me to arrange the meeting between yourself and my humble daughter!”
“Your Highness - ”
“I do have an heir,” Lee Chang says quietly. Immediately, a wall of silence descends on the room, and the jaws of all the assembled officials drop. It would be a comical sight, if Lee Chang felt like laughing. But he does not.
Slowly, he rises from his seat, and surveys his audience.
“I have an heir,” he says again, solemnly. “It will be the child who was cruelly stolen from his mother’s breast by the former queen. The child has no mother, no father, and so I will take him to be mine.”
This decision he has made with no one else’s knowledge but Mu-yeong’s, and his wife’s. The boy will be in danger without his protection, for any former ally of the Haewon Cho clan could potentially use him to replace Lee Chang on the throne, by claiming his heritage as that of the queen’s. The proof they had provided of the queen’s misdeeds was, after all, largely circumstantial, and based mainly on the confessions derived from the residents of Naesonjae.
Furthermore, Lee Chang has vowed that never again will a clan other than the Lees control his kingdom. His father had eventually lost autonomy and his precious control over his power through his marriage to the Haewon Cho daughter. Marriage to a daughter from another powerful house is the last thing Lee Chang wants.
And so the three of them had agreed upon this plan. The child would never know who his true parents were, but Mu-yeong and his wife would care for the baby, and therefore be his family in all but name. In doing so, the child would have all the luxuries afforded to a prince of his station, and he would have a good life – far better than the one Mu-yeong and his wife could have given him, in their previous incarnations.
It is a good, solid plan. There are logical reasons behind it, and Lee Chang had deliberated extensively over it in the days leading up to today, before he had taken the throne. There is no reason why anyone would object.
Yet still he knows Yeong-shin will not agree to his plan, and therefore he had not asked him. Lee Chang knows this, sure as day, knows that his objection will be for the same reason why he had even thought of such an outlandish idea in the first place – for the real reason why he does not wish to marry.
He cannot stop himself from darting a glance towards Yeong-shin, to gauge his reaction, and indeed, it does not disappoint. There is a dark anger in Yeong-shin’s eyes, and a rosy flush suffusing his neck and cheeks. They will have words later, Lee Chang knows, but still, he will not change his mind – and he makes sure that the ministers realise this.
***
The outrage of the ministers when they had finally realised that Lee Chang would not budge on his decision is nothing compared to the fury of Yeong-shin, later when they are quietly in their quarters.
“What were you thinking?!” Yeong-shin cries. “Why would you decide such a thing?!” He paces up and down the room, agitation making his movements jerky and robbed of their usual grace. Lee Chang thinks of a tiger in a cage, champing at the bars of its prison, and yet unable to escape. Yeong-shin has a tiger living under his skin, and somehow, Lee Chang finds in himself the mad desire to unlock the cage and let the tiger free.
“Mu-yeong,” he says quietly, and the guard darts a worried glance over at him, from where he stands by the door, hand on the hilt of his sword, his body tense and ready for battle. “Please. Leave us alone.”
Mu-yeong opens his mouth to protest, but then he must see something in Lee Chang’s eyes, for he clamps his mouth shut. His eyes are burning with concern – not for Lee Chang’s life, for he knows Yeong-shin will not touch a hair on Lee Chang’s head – but for something else entirely. And it is that something else that makes him leave the room at last.
They are alone in the room, now, and the candle is burning low on its wick. The incense burner suffuses the room with a thick, heady fragrance, and perhaps it is its influence that is making Lee Chang giddy – or perhaps not. He does not know.
“Yeong-shin,” he murmurs, and Yeong-shin stops abruptly in his movements. He turns to look at Lee Chang over his shoulder, and there is a hunted gaze in his eyes.
“I do not understand,” he begins, his voice trembling with controlled rage, “why you would choose to do such a thing. You could have any woman, any person of honourable blood as your bride, and yet you throw it all away.”
“I have my reasons,” Lee Chang answers steadily. He explains his line of thinking, his discussions with Mu-yeong and his wife, but still Yeong-shin’s ferocity does not calm. His anger is like a hurricane, overwhelming in its intensity and frightening in its violence, but somehow, it cools and calms Lee Chang, like the storm-rain that washes through the streets after.
“There could have been other ways,” Yeong-shin says bitterly, casting his head away and breaking eye contact like he has been burned. “You could have taken a foreign bride, or one from one of the lesser houses. Instead, now you have sworn not to marry. I do not understand your thoughts. You are not telling me everything.”
“You are right,” Lee Chang hums in agreement. He steps closer, and Yeong-shin does not move. Now they are toe to toe, and Lee Chang no longer smells the fragrance of the incense burner; the only scent that fills his mind is the heady musk of Yeong-shin’s body.
Yeong-shin’s skin is scarred and rough under his hands as he lifts the fingers of his right hand to cradle Yeong-shin’s face. Yeong-shin lifts his face, and now the look in his eyes is plaintive, pleading.
“I will kiss you now,” Lee Chang whispers. “Tell me if you do not want it.”
Yeong-shin’s lips are chapped from the cold, but they part beautifully the movement Lee Chang kisses him. It is a soft, chaste kiss, quickly over, but still Lee Chang feels a warmth bloom in his chest, and sparks dance across his skin. It will leave a mark, he thinks dazedly; the place where Yeong-shin grips his elbow and burns through the thin fabric of his clothes.
Gently – although he feels something in his chest wither and die – he removes his hand from Yeong-shin’s cheek, and steps back. Yeong-shin’s arm falls and lays limply at his side.
He had been mistaken, Lee Chang realises. It was not under Yeong-shin’s skin that the tiger lay. Yeong-shin himself was the caged beast, the palace his cage, and in Lee Chang’s hands lay the key.
He finds that suddenly he must sit down.
Slowly, painfully, he makes his way to the window, and looks out. Snowflakes are falling on the courtyards of the palace, and people walking through the snow leave footprints in the whiteness that are quickly replaced by fresh snowfall. He wonders if his presence in Yeong-shin’s life will be just so – there for barely a second, and quickly erased.
The silence becomes too stifling, and he must break it. “I do not expect you to return my affections,” he manages, and he cannot look at Yeong-shin. He must make a tragic figure, he knows, with the candlelight too weak to illuminate his face, and the faint glow from the yard outside barely enough to highlight the lines of his profile.
But he would not have it any other way. If it is, truly, to be the last time he sees Yeong-shin, he would rather have his last memory of Lee Chang like so – as the man, not the king, and with all his barriers down. It is the last gift he can give to the man to whom he owes so much, and to whom he has unequivocally given his heart and soul.
At last, Yeong-shin speaks, and they are words Lee Chang has come to expect.
“I must think on it,” he says, and the emotion in his voice, Lee Chang cannot recognise. “You hold my respect, and where you command, I will gladly go. You are the only one I would so freely pledge my allegiance to.”
“But,” Lee Chang prompts softly, and he hears rather than sees the flush that rises again on Yeong-shin’s face, when next he speaks.
“But,” he repeats, “I have… I have never thought of you as anything more than my lord. I have never dared think of you as anything more. You are the prince – the king now, but you were the prince – and so it has never even crossed my mind to look upon you as something more.”
“You need not give me hope,” Lee Chang says, and he cannot stop a small wistful smile forming on his face. “I understand.”
“Thank you,” Yeong-shin says quietly. He leaves the room, and only then - only then, does Lee Chang turn around. He burns the sight of Yeong-shin’s broad, upright back into his memory.
And then he looks back out the window, and sighs.
It is a new day, he thinks, as he watches the sun rise. A new day, and he is still alive, and that is all that matters, now.
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