#the qzgs fandom is too strong

[syncogon]

[QZGS Fic] 0529

I haven’t cross-posted my works in a while, but figure I’d make an exception here. Happy birthday to Ye Xiu!

AO3 

summary: Some of Ye Xiu’s birthdays, throughout the years.

“Surprise!!! Happy birthday!”

Ye Xiu yelps at the sudden blast of noise and confetti in his face. It takes him a few seconds to realize what’s going on, and to see the two figures standing before him, each wearing a little party hat and triumphantly waving something in their hands.

Su Muqiu grins and high-fives his little sister. “You like these? Homemade… whatever they’re called! Confetti-blaster-noise-maker things just for this special occasion. Mucheng was a big help with these so make sure to thank her!”

Ye Xiu rubs his head. “You could give me some warning next time, sheesh…”

“That defeats the point! You should’ve seen your face!”

“It was great,” Su Mucheng giggles, eyes sparkling. Ye Xiu can’t get mad at her like this, so he just sighs and ruffles her hair.

“Anyway, happy 16th! This is a big year, you know why?” Su Muqiu doesn’t wait for an answer. “You’re two-thirds of the way to becoming the king’s avatar!”

“…What?”

“You know! Since there are 24 classes in Glory!” Su Muqiu throws an arm around Ye Xiu’s shoulders and gestures grandly before them. “So when you’re 24, you’ll be the master of all classes! The textbook of Glory! They’ll write novels about you!”

“Please.” Ye Xiu rolls his eyes. “Maybe you need a whole year to master a class, but I can do it much faster.”

“Oh yeah? Wanna go?” Su Muqiu gives him a light shove.

Ye Xiu grins. “You’re on.”

But Su Mucheng breaks in before they can rush off to the computers like they always do. “At least have some cake first! You have to make a wish, it’s your birthday!” She points to the table, where Ye Xiu finally sees the cupcake sitting peacefully, vanilla with orange-colored icing, a single candle stuck straight into the air.

“Oh right, almost forgot!” Su Muqiu slaps a hand to his forehead. “We got you a cupcake too, Mucheng picked it out just for you, so eat up! Enjoy! Make a wish to beat me, because we both know that’s the only way you’d win.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep better at night,” Ye Xiu laughs. They sit down at the small table, and Su Muqiu strikes a match, lights the candle, and pushes the cupcake in front of him.

It’s really a lovely looking cupcake, the icing perfectly swirled atop the cake and dotted with colorful sprinkles. The sort of thing that they’d stare at through a display window, but never shell out the money to buy. But this is a special treat for a special occasion, and it warms Ye Xiu’s heart.

I wish… I wish that we can stay together like this, for a long time to come.

Ye Xiu closes his eyes and blows out the candle.

“I cannot believe,” sighs Wu Xuefeng, “that I’ve known you for this many years now, and I only just found out when your birthday was. And not even from you, but from Little Mucheng! You can tell me these sort of things, you know?”

“Sorry?” Ye Xiu offers a sheepish grin. “It just… never came up?”

Wu Xuefeng shakes his head. “You’re hopeless,” he says, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips nonetheless. “Anyway, now that I actually know, happy birthday! Got you something, not much since it was such short notice…”

“No, this is good.” Ye Xiu takes the profferred gift bag and, after a pause, reaches forward and pulls Wu Xuefeng into a hug. “Thanks, Brother Feng,” he says. “For saving my butt during matches, and covering for me outside of them.”

“That’s what I’m here for, right?” Wu Xuefeng laughs and pats him on the back. “I’ve always got your back, you know that.”

“I couldn’t ask for a better partner,” Ye Xiu smiles. “Ready to create a dynasty?”

“Always.”

Poor young defenseless Ye Xiu is on his way back to his room along the player passageways when suddenly out of the blue he is accosted by a terrifying mafia boss demanding his money or else suffer the consequences-

“What the fuck are you talking about.”

Ye Xiu smiles sweetly at said mafia boss. “Nothing, Old Han. What’s up?”

Han Wenqing gives him a dark look, but instead of saying more, just tosses him something. Ye Xiu fumbles a bit, but doesn’t drop it, which he considers a success. “Huh? What’s this?” he asks.

“I heard it was your birthday soon, Ye Qiu,” says Han Wenqing. “So, happy early birthday.”

“You got me a present?” There’s only the barest hint of incredulity in his voice, but Ye Xiu, behind his careless demeanor, is actually rather shocked. Is this a thing rivals do? Or… since when did Han Wenqing consider him a friend?

“Yes. Is there a problem?”

“…No,” says Ye Xiu. “That’s really nice of you, actually, I never thought you were such a softie behind that scary face of yours. Really,” he pretends to wipe away a tear, “it’s a present enough just to have someone like you as my rival.”

Han Wenqing glares.

“But also,” Ye Xiu waves the rather wallet-shaped wrapped gift around, “if this is a wallet, Old Han, I will laugh.”

Han Wenqing glares some more, and Ye Xiu smirks.

“Ye Qiu Ye Qiu Ye Qiu Ye Qiu Ye Qiu Ye Qiu!!!”

The voice echoes down the passageway, compounding the noisiness, and Ye Xiu can already feel the headache forming. Resigned, he turns around. “What do you want?”

Huang Shaotian bounces up to him, Yu Wenzhou following sedately behind. “Hello, Senior,” the latter politely greets him.

“Hello, Captain Yu.”

“Ye Qiu you bastard stop ignoring me!” The mess of blond energy plants himself firmly in front of Ye Xiu’s view.

“Don’t worry, you’ve made that thoroughly impossible, unfortunately. What do you want?”

“So goddamn ungrateful. Here, happy birthday! Take this, it’s from me and Captain. And come on, let’s go PKPKPK everyone knows that’s the best way to celebrate a birthday!”

Yu Wenzhou continues to smile calmly. “Happy birthday, Senior. I wish you the best in the year to come.”

Ye Xiu takes the gift and snorts. “The best birthday gift you could have gotten me was shutting him up, you know?”

“I know, but it was unfortunately impossible. Perhaps he’d quiet down if you played a match with him?”

“Nice try,” laughs Ye Xiu.

“Oi I’m right here you know! Ye Qiu I’m going to drag your ass to the Arena right now right this instant-”

“Oh would you look at the time, I have to go feed my dog. See you guys around, and thanks for the birthday wishes!”

“YE QIU GET BACK HERE-!”

“Ye… Xiu.”

“Hm? Oh hey, Big-Eye, how’s it going? Raising your team well? Your successor get any braver?”

Wang Jiexi nods curtly. “We’re doing well, thanks. I don’t know when I’ll see you next, so I wanted to give you this now.”

“This is…?” The box that Wang Jiexi gives him is cubical, heavier than it appears. Wang Jiexi had been carrying it rather carefully, so Ye Xiu does the same.

“Just a gift. It’s a little fragile, so be careful. Happy early birthday, Senior. I…” Wang Jiexi hesitates, then continues, “You were never gone for long, and I know we still had contact during the period of your retirement. But regardless, it’s good to have you back. I’ve enjoyed seeing the growth of your team and its players… Yours is an unconventional team, but one to look up to.”

“I…” What to say to that? Ye Xiu isn’t the type to get embarrassed, but after something like that? In the end, although it’s nowhere near what he’d like to express, he can only say, “Thanks, Captain Wang.”

“Though I hope you haven’t been working yourself too hard? Building a new team from scratch, and with so many rookies…”

Wang Jiexi would know, probably better than almost anyone, how difficult it can be. Ye Xiu smiles ruefully. “It’s been alright. Maybe… maybe if I’d been able to transfer to an already existing team, I’d be in good enough condition to play for several years longer.

“But… I wouldn’t trade Team Happy for anything. I’m sure you can understand, no?”

“Here!” Sun Xiang thrusts a wrapped box at him out of nowhere. This catches Ye Xiu off guard, to say the least.

“Uh…” Ye Xiu takes it, of course, but handles it rather gingerly. This kid doesn’t hate him enough to give him a bomb or something, right? “Thanks…?”

“Congrats on being a year closer to your death, old man,” grumbles Sun Xiang, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking away. “I won’t go easy on you because you’re old though! I’m still gonna kick your ass onstage!”

Ye Xiu snorts. “In your dreams, Little Xiang.” He absently inspects the…birthday gift?… which is wrapped in a cheery yellow paper patterned with little white sheep. “Did you wrap this? I like the paper, it suits you. Though it’s a neater job than I expected, I’m impressed.”

The trashtalk is automatic and natural, but his brain is elsewhere. Honestly, he’s more impressed that Sun Xiang – Sun Xiang! – is giving him anything at all. Since when did this kid not-hate him enough to make such a gesture? It’s… kind of touching, actually?

“Fuck off,” replies Sun Xiang with an angry scowl, which only makes Ye Xiu’s grin widen.

“Um…” It’s at this moment that Sun Xiang’s companion speaks up, hesitantly extending another wrapped box to Ye Xiu. “Happy birthday… Senior…”

Ye Xiu accepts the present from Zhou Zekai as well, with less trepidation. “Thank you, Little Zhou.”

“Senior is… really… amazing,” says Zhou Zekai, ducking his head, and Ye Xiu’s smile softens at the sight.

“So are you,” he replies, “you’ve both played very well this season, especially with your coordination. I look forward to seeing you onstage.” And he means it, really. It would be Happy’s most difficult battle yet, but a good one no matter what.

“We don’t need your stupid comments!” Sun Xiang humphs, but Ye Xiu sees that the tips of his ears have gone pink. “I already know my One Autumn Leaf is better than yours! Let’s head back, Captain, we gotta train and annilhate this guy once and for all.”

Zhou Zekai opens his mouth, as though about to say something more, but he shakes his head. He offers Ye Xiu a shy smile, and turns to follow his teammate.

Ye Xiu watches the two of them depart, and then he glances at Jiang Botao, who’s casually standing to the side, feigning disinterest in the whole scene.

“So,” says Ye Xiu, walking over, “what did you say to convince them to do that? Are you trying to bribe me to go easy on you guys or something? Your heart’s really as black as a Master Tactician’s…” Because although the two were very different in personality and disposition, neither Zhou Zekai nor Sun Xiang were exactly the types to just…

Jiang Botao only smiles. “They themselves wanted to give you presents, they just needed a push to actually go through with it. Someone on Samsara has to be the socially competent one, after all. Happy birthday, Senior.”

That earns a chuckle from Ye Xiu. “Thanks. Hope we have a good fight.”

“And the same to you.”

“Okay everyone!” Chen Guo claps her hands together to get everyone’s attention. “It’s almost Ye Xiu’s birthday! We need to get him something.”

“Boss Lady, that’s what you called us all here for?” Wei Chen drawls, leaning back on his chair and puffing a cigarette at the corner of the room. “I thought this was some important strategy meeting or something…”

“Shut your mouth, this is important,” says Chen Guo. “He’s done so much for us, literally none of us would be here if not for him, so this is the least we can do. Any ideas?”

Su Mucheng is currently out with Ye Xiu, distracting him so that they could have this secret planning meeting right now. Aside from those two, everyone on Team Happy is here.

“The only thing Captain really cares about is Glory, and winning the championship,” An Wenyi points out. “And we’re all already putting in our full effort on that end.”

“But I’m sure we can still think of something nice to do for him outside of that,” says Tang Rou. “He would still appreciate it.”

“He’s a Gemini!” says Steamed Bun excitedly. “So we can get him a twin-”

“He already has a twin,” Luo Ji deadpans.

“-oh great even better, we can find his twin and-”

“Anyone have any other ideas?” Chen Guo firmly cuts off Steamed Bun before he can continue on his strange paths of thought.

“A mug that says #1 Dad on it,” says Fang Rui. “Appeals to both his ego and his role in this team.” At the looks he gets, he raises his hands defensively. “What? It’s totally accurate. He took in all you rookies and raised you into an actual fighting force. Look into my honest eyes, and see the truth of this statement.”

“Yifan did call him Dad once,” Steamed Bun pipes up. Qiao Yifan flushes, but he can’t deny the truth.

“See, exactly!”

“Get him a fancy ashtray or lighter or something,” suggests Wei Chen.

“We’re not going to encourage his unhealthy habits!”

“A whole pack of instant ramen.”

“Or McDonalds, doesn’t he really like their fries?”

“What kind of gift is that?”

An Wenyi wasn’t entirely wrong when he said that all Ye Xiu cared about was Glory. If they excluded the Glory-related accomplishments that they would strive to achieve anyway, then what else was there? What would Ye Xiu like? Something he could use, something that would mean something to him?

As a result, the ideas steadily become more and more outlandish.

“A body pillow of himself.”

“Buy an ad on the Citibank tower and slap his face on it.”

“Oh oh, Tang Rou can buy out the company that makes Glory and give it to him!”

“We get him a concentrated vial of liquid shamelessness.”

Suddenly, there’s a quiet cough. Normally, such a quiet noise would never catch any attention, but given the source of the cough, the room suddenly goes quiet as though a switch were pulled.

Mo Fan looks alarmed at suddenly having a dozen pairs of eyes upon him. His gaze darts around the room, and the others wonder if he’s just going to swallow his words back down again.

But in the end, the words do come out. Quiet, as per usual, but perfectly understandable. “What about a model Myriad Manifestation Umbrella?”

Such a simple idea. Chen Guo opens her mouth to shoot it down like all the others, but then stops, and thinks.

A simple idea, but a good one. And, unbidden, she remembers flowers on a gravestone, and a quiet voice, and a story. Even if it were just a model, even if it didn’t have practical use… it had significance. He would like it.

“There are some good ones that have been made,” Tang Rou says. “I remember seeing some that even had shapeshifting capabilities.”

“…Okay,” says Chen Guo, nodding slowly. “We can definitely look into that. We have time, we could do this. Make a nice card, too…” Murmurs and nods of agreement from all around the table.

“But also I still think we should throw in the mug,” grins Fang Rui. “He’d love it, I’m telling you.”

Ye Xiu V

29 May 2025 22:03

[photo] [photo] [photo] [photo] [photo] [photo]

Team Happy - team of champions, master of kings, the best goddamn team in the entire universe.

Glory isn’t a single-player game - thank you all <3 :)

[ryukoishida]

QZGS | The King’s Avatar Fic: In which swordsman!ST confesses his affection for fox spirit!WZ and WZ is hella confused.

Title: Beneath the Cherry Blossom Tree Fandom: The King’s Avatar / Quan Zhi Gao Shou Character(s)/Pairing(s): Yu/Huang (Wenzhou/Shaotian); Lu Hanwen Summary: A nine-tailed snow fox spirit rescued a young boy who would become a swordsman sworn to protect the weak.   Part: 3/5 Rating: PG-13 A/N: Blame the cheesiness on the crappy Chinese romance novels I’ve been reading recently. Honestly no regrets though, y’all. Also maybe just a slight warning that YWZ is a little OOC at the beginning.

Writing Commission | Editing & Translation Services

Parts:

i. Encounter ii. Awakening iii. Confession iv. Survival v. Blossom

iii. Confession

Every three to four months, after he’d gotten paid from work and if he had a day off, Huang Shaotian would wander around the marketplace in town center and purchase all sorts of wines and snacks while playfully negotiating prices with the shopkeepers who had known him since he was a child.

Back at his humble home, the young constable headed straight for the stable and started packing his purchases into the worn-out leather panniers strapped to his horse, his lips curving up slightly into a smile while he hummed a nameless tune under his breath.

It was early enough in the afternoon that the shadows were still short when he walked with his ride toward the rear entrance of the complex, but the February wind still bit into his skin slyly, making him shudder into his scarf.  

“Shaotian-ge ge!” a boyish voice was calling out to him.

Huang Shaotian twisted around to see Lu Hanwen, now ten years of age since he’d been rescued by Huang Shaotian and unofficially adopted into Wei Chen’s family four years ago, running towards him, his dainty wooden sword used for training swinging around wildly held in one hand.

“What’s going on, Hanwen?” he asked with a bright grin and ruffled the boy’s hair into a mess.

“Spar with me, Shaotian-ge ge! I’ve just mastered the first five techniques from the Flowing Cloud sword-style and I want to try it out on an opponent!” Lu Hanwen told him excitedly, hazel eyes glistening in the winter sunlight.

“Not today, kid. I’ve got somewhere to be,” Huang Shaotian laughed, and it was then that Lu Hanwen noticed the horse and the panniers packed to the brim.

“Oh,” the boy exclaimed, then quickly commented with a knowing smirk, “You’re visiting Wenzhou-ge ge, huh? Will you bring him something from me then?” Lu Hanwen didn’t even wait for the constable’s reply before he ran back inside the house and came out within two minutes, a delicate lacquered box carefully cradled in both hands.

“Honeyed osmanthus snowflake cake,” Lu Hanwen told him, the tinge of pride that colored his voice made the older man chuckle quietly when he took the box from the boy and put it in with the rest of the snacks. “Wenzhou-ge ge likes the flavor of osmanthus flowers, right?”

“And you never make me my favourite foods, ever,” Huang Shaotian grumbled though he was still smiling a little when he said that. “Who came after you and saved your butt all those years ago, huh? Is that how you repay your savior?”

“Well, technically, Wenzhou-ge ge was the one who saved my life,” Lu Hanwen reminded him cheekily but added, “But since we just got some fresh ginger, I suppose I can make ginger milk curd after dinner. Maybe.”

With a giggle, Lu Hanwen dodged Huang Shaotian’s hand and danced aside far enough where the constable was unable to reach him.

“Hey, Hanwen, if Wei-da ge come home early and ask for me…”

“Don’t worry, Shaotian-ge ge, I know what to do!”

The day Huang Shaotian brought Lu Hanwen back to the village, they had promised to keep their encounter with Yu Wenzhou a secret between just the two of them. Lu Hanwen had been too young to understand the true reason behind this concealment, but the man with the fierce golden eyes was the only one who was brave and strong enough to come after him and the monstrous demon that snatched him from his home after murdering his entire family. His young, fragile heart held nothing but respect and gratitude for the young swordsman; Lu Hanwen would do anything Huang Shaotian asked of him, no questions asked.  

“I know I can depend on you,” Huang Shaotian sent him a thankful grin. “And one more thing.” His expression became more solemn.

“Yeah?”

“The instances of kidnapping had been increasing lately,” his brows gathered into a tight frown at the thought, “so make sure you don’t go out after dark.”

Lu Hanwen nodded. “See you tonight!”

*

It was about a thirty-minute journey on horse from the village to the foot of the mountain, and the hike up to the summit of Blue Rain Peak was about another hour on foot, though with Huang Shaotian’s qing gong skills, which had been enhanced over the years of strict training, it usually only took the young swordsman about twenty minutes to reach the top, but he was weighted down with food and drinks today, so he couldn’t run as fast as he’d liked to.

He was halfway up the summit when he sensed it: that warm swirl stirring up in the depth of his core, like a whirlwind of gentle flame ribbons binding intimately around his heart, a degree too much yet strangely pleasant all the same.

Though the charm etched on the back of his hands no longer ignited whenever he went near Yu Wenzhou, but somehow, the link that they shared through the single droplet of the fox spirit’s blood was powerful enough so that even Huang Shaotian could sense the fox’s presence before he could see him with his naked eyes.

“Yu Wenzhou, if you’re around, I can really use another pair of hands with these,” Huang Shaotian repositioned the panniers more securely over his shoulders with a grunt.

“You have kept me waiting for too long, Huang Shaotian,” the familiar voice — cold as the snow that swathed the surface of the rocky crests for the majority of the year yet smooth and serene as the creeks that ran through the cracks and crevices of the boulders down the side of the mountain in the summer — was closer than the swordsman had expected, and he sharply turned around to see the fox spirit standing there.

His face displayed no obvious expression, so as usual, Huang Shaotian couldn’t quite tell what the fox spirit was thinking or feeling, but the fox’s amethyst eyes were focused solely on him and him alone, and Huang Shaotian thought to himself that this was really all that mattered, wasn’t it?

“Come,” Yu Wenzhou extended an arm out in invitation towards the swordsman after eyeing the packs on his shoulders with the slightest hint of curiosity that struck across his face as quick as lightning before he turned his head to the side, “we are wasting time standing around.”

“Yeah, yeah, you sure are in a hurry today, Lord Snow Fox,” Huang Shaotian chuckled nervously, though he had no reason to feel nervous after all this time. It had been a decade since they’d known each other, and this should have been a routine by now: him bringing offerings in the form of food and wine and his company, and the fox taking them through the boundary between reality and fantasy into a land of the fox spirit’s creation so that he could peacefully enjoy his offerings without the threat of worldly interruptions.

His hand was only shaking slightly when he placed it gingerly into Yu Wenzhou’s, the spirit’s skin cool beneath his palm as their fingers linked together in a loose fashion. With his other hand and using his index finger, the tip of which was glowing a warm white, Yu Wenzhou lightly touched the air before him as if there was a piece of invisible glass there, and the boundary opened itself up in a gradual churning of snow and air, blurring the vision around them until an oval gap big enough to fit a grown man appeared.

The edges between solid reality and ebbing illusion was always a peculiar displacement of space and time that shook the particles of Huang Shaotian’s physical body, and he often wondered if Yu Wenzhou, being a nine-hundred-year-old fox spirit, felt the same whenever they entered the other realm.  

Each time they crossed the boundary, a different scenery welcomed them: once it was a frozen lake with gorgeous frost-covered trees and icicles dangling like glass shards on branches lining the shore (Yu Wenzhou kept teasing Huang Shaotian when the swordsman shuddered and swore up a verbal storm since he’d been wearing his summer outfit, garment weaved from thin, breathable cotton, until the fox spirit, with a quiet laugh, lent the man his fur cloak), and another time it was a grassy hill in the height of summer, the deep night buzzing with the crickets’ songs as they gazed up into the starry sky.

This time, Huang Shaotian was thankful for Yu Wenzhou’s choice of location: the gentle spring breeze caressed his skin and teased his long hair, bringing with it a soft hint of earthy and floral scent prominent just after the rain; the creek that ran down the gently rolling hill creating a soft, trickling tune in the background, and the land was covered by miles and miles of peach and cherry blossom trees as far as the eye could see.

To think that this was all conjured within the fox spirit’s mind, it made Huang Shaotian incredibly curious about the places Yu Wenzhou had been to and whether these fantastical places were inspired by the sites he’d seen and experienced during his long life. But when he asked several years ago, Huang Shaotian discovered that Yu Wenzhou didn’t like to elaborate, only briskly replied with a “serve me the spirits” and turning his head away adamantly so that it was impossible for the other man to see his expression.

“This is beautiful,” Huang Shaotian sighed in awe, as he always did, looking around and laughing like a delighted child when he caught a stray petal in his palm before he blew it away into the air again. He turned to face the fox spirit with a wide, bright smile, “Yu Wenzhou, thank you for bringing me to these gorgeous places every time we get together.”

“I merely wanted a place where I can enjoy my offerings in peace,” Yu Wenzhou said, lowering his gaze and as if he’d just realized their hands were still linked, he quickly let go of the swordsman’s hand and walked on. His long white garment and snowy locks flowing behind him gracefully in ripples, his strides long and purposeful, yet elegant like a practiced dance.

Huang Shaotian tried not to let that seemingly aloof gesture bother him too much, and jogged a few steps to catch up with the fox spirit.

“You say that all the time, sure, but you know, despite how little you talk about yourself, I feel like these places you created from your mind, and just the fact that you are willingly letting me in, is your way of opening up to me and telling me something about yourself,” Huang Shaotian said teasingly, though deep in his heart, there was a small portion of him that wished for it to be true.

Perhaps he was asking for too much.

“You are over-analyzing my intention,” Yu Wenzhou told him coldly and pointed a clawed finger towards a spot beneath a fully blooming cherry blossom tree a few steps from the creek. “Let us rest over there.”

“Whatever you say,” Huang Shaotian shrugged and began to run ahead to set everything up.

Once they’d comfortably settled down with a variety of food and drinks spread around them in some vague sense of order, Huang Shaotian handed over the box that Lu Hanwen had given him earlier.

“This is from Hanwen,” Huang Shaotian told him, and added, “I swear that brat likes you more than he likes me, which doesn’t seem fair, don’t you think? I mean, I was the one who went through all the trouble to go after him and then begged Wei-da ge to take him in, right? I almost lost my life that time, damn!”

“Do not exaggerate. You had not been in any danger back then,” Yu Wenzhou commented with a wry smirk, “I would have come to take back what was mine, eventually.”

“Yeah, next time maybe don’t wait until I’m half-dead to do that? I’m only human and not a centuries-old spirit like your lordship — I die very, very easily,” Huang Shaotian mumbled as he tore open the seal covering the mouth of one of the porcelain wine bottles.

Something dark passed over the fox spirit’s face just then, but it was gone before Huang Shaotian could comprehend the expression.

“You will never come to any true harm as long as you have my blood inside you and for as long as I shall live,” Yu Wenzhou said in his usual cool and detached tone, as if he wasn’t making a life-long promise to the swordsman who would readily cut open his chest and offer his own heart if the fox spirit should ask, and then he uttered in a softer voice, “I will not allow that to happen.”

Yu Wenzhou took the box from the swordsman and carefully lifted the lid off. A poignant yet gentle scent of osmanthus immediately caught his sensitive nose, the aroma that reminded him of his homeland from ages ago temporarily made him let go of his previous dark trail of thought. The milky goldenrod-coloured snowflake cake was cut neatly into squares and sprinkled with pale osmanthus petals and sugar crystals on top.  

“He remembered?” Yu Wenzhou almost sounded surprised.

“I told him you really liked the osmanthus jelly he made for you last time,” Huang Shaotian said, placing the opened vessel of wine by the fox spirit’s knee and started to pick up a piece of candied sesame cracker to nibble on.

Yu Wenzhou picked up a slice of the gelatinous dessert with two fingers, his other arm lifted up to politely hide the lower half of his face with his wide sleeve as he took a small bite. The sweetness of the honey, the silkiness of the milk, and the delicate fragrance of the flowers balanced each other out perfectly on his tongue.

“Tell Lu Hanwen that I thank him for this,” Yu Wenzhou finally murmured after he finished the piece he had, a corner of his lips tucked upwards into a faint smile, the expression verging on the boundary of kind and warm, “it is lovely.”  

“Sure will,” Huang Shaotian nodded, noticing the slight change but didn’t say anything more.

After that, they fell into a comfortable silence as they ate, though of course, with Huang Shaotian present, the silence didn’t last long, and he began to babble one-sidedly about the cases he solved and the criminals he beat up and threw into prison over the last few months.

From the fox spirit’s facial expression, one wouldn’t be able to tell whether he was annoyed or bored, but Huang Shaotian knew, even from the subtlest of movements, like the pauses of his hand or the twitch of his lips, that Yu Wenzhou was listening closely and was even at times amused by the constable’s rowdy adventures.

Yu Wenzhou was used to the stillness and stirrings of the mountains, and the majority of the reason why he left the fox clan when he was still a young spirit was because he sought and craved the peace that he could never have back at home. For hundreds of years, he had kept to himself, never seeking company or wanting any, and then Huang Shaotian collided into his life like the brightest star striking across the long years of night skies, burning a scathing path and leaving destruction behind.

Huang Shaotian was an interesting child — and this wasn’t only due to the strange composition of his body; he wasn’t scared of him even though he knew well that Yu Wenzhou could have done anything to him. Instead, Huang Shaotian accepted him for who he was, and while their relationship had started out as a transaction that had obvious benefits for both parties, somewhere along the years, they had forgotten about that part of their verbal contract, and the line between the spirit and the human had blurred.

“What are you thinking?” Yu Wenzhou asked after swallowing a mouthful of bayberry wine when Huang Shaotian remained uncharacteristically quiet after his last story. When the young swordsman continued to stare at the vessel of mead in his hands, the fox spirit tried again, a hint of impatience seeping into his even tone. “Huang Shaotian?”

“Sorry, sorry,” the swordsman turned his head sharply towards the fox spirit and grinned sheepishly, “what were you saying?”

“Is there something occupying your mind that had you so distracted you cannot even spare a bit of your attention when you are in my company?” Yu Wenzhou’s gaze was unforgivingly cold but Huang Shaotian thought he saw a flicker of hurt in there, too.

“My apologies,” Huang Shaotian took another swig from his bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand like he was trying to wipe away something dirty, “I was just thinking about a case we’re working on right now.”

“Is it a particularly difficult case?”

Yu Wenzhou didn’t really care about affairs that troubled the human world, but if there was something that was bothering Huang Shaotian, he would at least lend him an ear.

“Not difficult, but more like… disturbing?” Huang Shaotian tilted his head to the side, his forelocks which had grown too long since he hadn’t had time to trim fell into his eyes haphazardly.

Yu Wenzhou nodded for him to continue, his gaze entirely focused on the swordsman now.

“Since the end of last year, there had been cases of kidnapping that started out in a small town down south, but the instances had been getting more frequent as the culprits moved their way northward,” Huang Shaotian explained, eyes narrowing with irritation, “a lot of children had gone missing for the last few months in our town, and when some of them were found, it appeared that they couldn’t remember what’d happened or who’d captured them. On top of that…”

“Go on.”

“These children’s vitality had been completely drained dry,” Huang Shaotian’s grip on the porcelain bottle turned tighter and his hand was shaking in anger, his voice becoming a low growl, “they were barely breathing and even when they eventually recuperate, their internal energy systems had been broken into so they will become more susceptible to illnesses and physical damages as they grow up.”

“And you constables have no clue who is responsible for these crimes?”

“There were rumors about a certain cult whose leader has been using children’s bodies as ingredients for his refinery training due to the children’s purer vitality, so his followers had been snatching kids from different towns and cities for their master to use,” Huang Shaotian recalled, voice drenched in open disgust as he continued, “but for whatever reason, as soon as the local constables got close to the source, all traces of clues and evidence would be erased, as if the cult knew what was going on and they were just toying with the authorities.”

“You humans can be incredibly unobservant when it comes to matters that are so apparent,” Yu Wenzhou said, unimpressed.

“I can really do with less insults from you and more actual helpful advice, if you even have any,” Huang Shaotian mumbled in annoyance. His cheeks had grown rosier, but whether it was due to the alcohol he’d been consuming or the topic of their conversation, Yu Weznhou couldn’t tell for certain.

“Have you not considered the possibility that this may be the work of a demon — or a spirit that is trying to exalt himself into the rank of a demon — and not a mortal at all?”

“You mean a spirit is behind all this? Seems a bit elaborate, don’t you think? The hassle of gathering ‘believers’, the messy kidnappings, the disposal of the children — why go through so much trouble?”

“Certain types enjoy toying with their food before consuming — makes for better entertainment, they would say,” Yu Wenzhou turned his head away just then, his amethyst gaze focusing instead on the flowing creek and his pale lips tightening into a firm line.

“Tell me if I’m overthinking this again, Yu Wenzhou,” Huang Shaotian sat up straighter and faced him even though the fox demon made no sign to move, “but it sounds like you know exactly who’s responsible for this.”

Again, the trickling of water and the singing of larks filled in the suddenly stifling silence.

“What are you not telling me?” the swordsman insisted, his tone urgent, and he reached out a hand to grasp onto Yu Wenzhou’s sleeve before he could stop himself.

The fox demon instantly stared down at where Huang Shaotian’s tanned hand was touching his stark white garment, and when he finally lifted his head up to look at the swordsman, his eyes had darkened to a stormy violet that made Huang Shaotian tremble and remember that he was more like a beast than human despite his deceptively human-esque physical features.  

He shook off the swordsman’s hold on him, yet the next moment found Huang Shaotian trapped between the trunk of the cherry blossom tree they’d been sitting under and Yu Wenzhou’s body, the spirit’s arms caging him on both sides; he lowered his head, his torso, until they were merely a breath apart, and his snow-white hair tumbled over his shoulders like strands of silk and ice. His eyes were absolutely dark now, no light and no trace of the elegant lilac to be seen.

When he spoke, his breaths chilled Huang Shaotian’s skin, and the cold just spread deeper and deeper into his muscles, through his blood and into his bones. Yet he couldn’t look away from the darkness of the fox spirit’s eyes; there was something strangely haunting yet striking about them — it reeked of the endless possibilities of wickedness, sin, violence, beauty, and humanity that Yu Wenzhou was capable of, and this all depended on the fox spirit’s own personal choice.

“Sometimes I do think you easily forget your place, Huang Shoatian,” Yu Wenzhou whispered, his lips barely moving though the swordsman could hear him loud and clear.

Huang Shaotian swallowed, and his heart was thundering painfully against his chest, making breathing that much more difficult. He wasn’t used to this proximity — to him, Yu Wenzhou had always been a figure atop the summit of the highest mountain, an unreachable figure though he might forever strive to reach there, to be equal to him, but it was impossible.

He kept telling himself over and over again that the fox spirit would never return his affection — he wasn’t that naivë — but the love in him only grew and grew; it filled up his heart from the first inkling of realization four years ago and then it spilled over like ink on paper, staining everything he touched, every step he walked, every breath he took.

From above them, a cherry blossom petal twirled downward and landed delicately on a strand of the fox spirit’s hair. The swordsman wordlessly reached up and gently plucked it off; it dissipated like smoke, like dust between his fingertips.

“Hey, Yu Wenzhou,” Huang Shaotian breathed out his name, the warm moisture from his exhale momentarily startling the fox spirit into silence as he stared down at him with unemotional eyes, “I know this isn’t the best time but screw timing, I’ve always been terrible at these kinds of things so it figures that this would happen to me again. Anyway, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“I am in love with you.”

Yu Wenzhou blinked, and then three seconds later, he blinked again, this time the colour returning to his irises but his cheeks turned even paler than usual. His brows dipped down into a puzzled frown as he retrieved his arms back to his side and sat back down.

“I… do not understand,” he said — not angry, not joyous, merely matter-of-fact and slightly perplexed.