Chapter Text
木兰花 Magnolia Flower
The swallows and the geese have left,
And now the orioles are gone too.
It is so hard to understand this drifting life
With its thousand, ten thousand threads of meaning.
Was my past any longer than a spring-time dream?
It scattered like the autumn clouds. No place to find it.
Hear the zither, untie the goddess’ jewel.
I could clutch her silk clothes until they tore
But I still can’t stop time.
I advise you not to be the only one awake.
Join the rest of us — and drink to oblivion among the flowers.
晏殊 Yan Shu (translated by Jean Yuan)
Chapter 1: The Little Dream Returns
The gentle scent of pine drifting in through the open window stirred Zhuo Yichen from his sleep. He was facing the curtain on his bed, close enough to make out the familiar snags of age on the rich fabric.
It was still night, and the moonlight illuminated the familiar shapes and structures of his room. He reached for his sword out of habit, not even looking before his hand closed around the cool metal. It was beside his bed where he always left it.
He inhaled deeply, savoring the cool, damp pine scent that had adorned his childhood. It had been many years since he last smelled it, and he had missed it while he was away. He sat up, blinking the remaining sleep from his eyes.
He looked around. His surroundings were all so familiar, and yet so strange. He had not seen this room in years, possibly decades.
In his last solid memory, he had been laying out under the stars, preparing for a frost-covered night beside his horse. Now, he was… home.
Why was he here?
His memories were slightly muddled and out of order. This was not unusual; the days often blurred together, marked only by the subtle changes in scenery and weather. More than once, he had found himself in the middle of a new town with only the vaguest memory of choosing to take the path there. Still, he thought he would remember coming back to his childhood home. Perhaps he had been attacked by something in his sleep and then rescued by the demon hunting bureau?
He stood up and pulled on an outer robe that had been left by his bed, one he recognized as a favorite from years ago. He was surprised at how well it fit; he had become thinner in his traveling, trading whatever baby fat he’d still had for lean, stringy muscles.
He did feel a little slower and less alert than usual, but his body didn’t feel like it had been attacked. In fact, he felt strangely light, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
He stepped out into the hallway.
The lighting in his former home was dim, with just the occasional glint of a lamp to keep people from crashing into the walls. Wen Xiao used to light those small lamps every night before they went to bed. He wondered who did it now.
He wandered through the quiet estate, following the lamps as if they were beacons. The last he had heard, the demon hunting bureau had more than quadrupled in size and had expanded to include dozens of specialized taskforces. In the years since he had last seen her, Pei Sijing had grown to be one of the most influential people in the empire. She was famous enough that he occasionally heard what she was up to even miles away from the capital.
Despite the hundreds of Pei Sijing’s soldiers ostensibly sleeping in the bureau, they were impressively quiet. The night was completely still; he could hear the familiar plink or rain on his old roof tiles. Maybe she had them sleeping in barracks somewhere else.
He rounded the last corner before the library and stumbled to a stop. Sitting at one of the tables with a dozen books spread out in front of her was a familiar figure with a brush in her hair.
“Wen Xiao?”
She turned to look at him and her face lit up into a wide smile, the kind that he hadn’t seen from her in years.
“Good, you’re still up!” She stood and bounded over to him, grabbing his arm. “I was hoping you could help me go over these scrolls. Otherwise I don’t think I’ll be able to finish them by the time we set out.”
Zhuo Yichen stumbled after her, still feeling muddled. “Set out? Where are we going?”
She looked at him over her shoulder. “Mount Kunlun?” She said it with an incredulous air.
“Why are we going to Mount Kunlun?”
Her eyebrows furrowed, but before she could speak there came a high shout and a bang as the library door slammed open. Bai Jiu came dashing through it. “Zhuo Gege!” He cried out “Ying Lei is terrorizing me!” and he flung himself around Zhuo Yichen’s waist.
Oh. Zhuo Yichen could feel the small trembles running through Xiao Jiu’s body. He was dreaming.
He often dreamed of Xiao Jiu. Of his small body covered in wounds, of the last words he may have said, of his lifeless body slung over Yichen’s back, sometimes over and over in a night until he craved the days when he’d had Ran Yi’s scale to keep him from dreaming all together. Less often did he dream of Xiao Jiu while alive.
He cupped Xiao Jiu’s head, listening to clang of the bell as his hand moved his hair.
“Are you well, Xiao Jiu?”
“Hi.” The boy panted. “You have to protect me from Ying Lei! He’s out to get me!”
“You should play well with Mr. Ying. He’s your friend.”
Xiao Jiu looked up at him with betrayal in his eyes. “Nu-uh!”
Ying Lei appeared in the doorway with a wide smile. “Ahah! I’ve got you now, Xiao Jiu!”
Is this what they were spending their afterlife doing? Yichen thought to himself with a smile, still patting Xiao Jiu’s head. “Mr. Ying is really awesome.” He could feel the burn of tears behind his eyes and blinked them back. “He can protect you without me.”
“No!” Bai Jiu clung to him even tighter, though Ying Lei seemed to stop in his tracks, a look of surprise on his face.
Zhuo Yichen suddenly felt completely trapped inside this beautiful mirage, like it was not a gift but a prison. He needed out. It was too painful. Too painful to see his most beloved people, knowing he had failed them, and too painful to wake up on the side of a mountain without them come morning.
He looked down at the boy wrapped around his waist. If the spirits of the dead were visiting his dreams, perhaps there was a reason. “Is there anything you need to tell me, Xiao Jiu?”
“Yes!” Bai Jiu yelped, “Save me!”
The tears that had been stinging the corners of his eyes fell now, as Zhuo Yichen held back a sob. “I’m sorry,” His voice was no more than a whisper. “I can’t.”
Bai Jiu pulled away, looking up at him with worry. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“I’m okay.” Yichen stroked his head once more, savoring the soft movement of his hair, and the light in the boy’s eyes, trying to commit it to memory. “I’m just feeling sad. And it’s time for me to go.”
“Where are you going?” Wen Xiao interjected. “We’re not going to Kunlun until tomorrow.”
Zhuo Yichen pinched himself, hard. And it hurt, but he did not wake up. So, this was one of those dreams, he thought to himself, as he reached to his side to draw his blade. He didn’t remember being attacked, poisoned or ensorcelled. It must have happened in his sleep. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and holding his sword up to his neck.
He heard Bai Jiu’s scream, Wen Xiao’s shout. And then, as he swung the sword inwards, he felt something warm against his neck and the blade stopped.
“Xiao Zhuo daren,” A familiar voice ground out. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Zhuo Yichen opened his eyes.
Zhao Yuanzhou met them.
He was shrouded by his energy, his eyes wide and red, with his hand between Zhuo Yichen’s neck and the blade.
It had been so long since Zhuo Yichen had seen this face, those eyes. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe.
He never saw Zhao Yuanzhou in his dreams. He often dreamt of chasing after someone who was just out of reach, following him, and then turning the corner to find him gone, or stabbing his blade forward and feeling a pop as it tore through flesh. His nightmares never let him see the face of the person he was chasing after, the person he was killing.
He dropped the blade, faintly registering Zhao Yuanzhou’s hiss as the falling sword sliced him on the way down, and flung his arms around the great yao.
Zhao Yuanzhou staggered backwards under the sudden attack, but Zhuo Yichen had no intention of letting him go.
He buried his face in Zhao Yuanzhou’s collar, allowing his tears to sink into the soft fur of it. There were so many things he wanted to say to him. Why are you here? Why now? Why did you leave? Where have you been? I missed you, I missed you, I missed you, but he could not find the voice for the words. Instead, he just held him a little tighter.
There was a long moment of silence, before he felt one hand come around and slowly pat him on the back like he was a fussy baby.
“Okay, so he is definitely possessed.”
He felt another hand on his shoulder. “Xiao Zhuo?” It was Wen Xiao. “Are you okay?”
He shook his head against Zhao Yuanzhou’s shoulder, unwilling to let him go yet. He was not convinced that Zhao Yuanzhou would not disappear the second he let him go.
Why now? Why would Zhao Yuanzhou appear in his dreams now? He’d thought that maybe Zhao Yuanzhou couldn’t appear in dreams without his soul in entirety, or perhaps he blamed him too much too ever want to see him again.
He’d forgotten how Zhao Yuanzhou smelled; earthy and metallic, like the wilderness he came from. He hadn’t even realized that he’d forgotten until he had his face buried in Zhao Yuanzhou’s shoulder.
“I missed you.” Zhuo Yichen murmured, his voice muffled.
“What was that?” Zhao Yuanzhou hadn’t stopped patting his back. Zhuo Yichen never wanted him to stop, but he took a step back anyway.
Zhao Yuanzhou was staring at him, an incredulous look in his eyes and perhaps the barest hint of a blush. “Do you want to tell us what that was all about?”
Zhuo Yichen looked around at them all. The worried puppy-dog eyes from Xiao Jiu and Ying Lei, the look of concern from Wen Xiao, the glare from Zhao Yuanzhou. He couldn’t keep a smile from his face. “Is Pei Sijing around here too?”
Bai Jiu stepped forward, taking a hold of Zhuo Yichen’s sleeve. “I saw her talking to her brother earlier, I’m not sure if she’s still-”
“A-Heng is here?” He let out a huff of laughter at the sheer joy and incredulity of his situation. He didn’t ever want to wake up. “Sorry, sorry to worry you all.” He wiped his tears, “I just had a really, really terrible dream.”
Wen Xiao stepped forward to place a hand on his shoulder. When he looked up at her, she quirked her head as if to ask if he was okay, or if he needed to talk.
Zhuo Yichen shook his head in response to her unasked question.
“Do you want something to help you sleep tonight, Zhuo gege?”
He shook his head again, patting Bai Jiu’s hair once more. Even if he had fallen into some kind of dream trap, he could not bring himself to care. “No, I just really want us all to help Wen Xiao get through her reading.”
~
Xiao Jiu was the first to fall asleep, leaning against Zhuo Yichen. Zhuo Yichen tapped Ying Lei, whose eyes were starting to glaze over, and motioned for him to take the youngest member to bed.
“They’re still such kids.” Zhuo Yichen marveled, watching the pair stumble off to their rooms.
“You’re young yourself, Xiao Zhuo daren.” Zhuo Yichen looked over to find Zhao Yuanzhou watching him.
“Certainly, in demon years,” He agreed. In his decades of wandering, he had met many demons who were shocked to find that he was not even one hundred years old. He’d found it difficult to explain that he’d done more aging in the first two decades of his life than many demons did in their entire existence.
“In human years as well.” Zhao Yuanzhou’s voice was quiet, almost sad. “You are all still so young.”
Zhuo Yichen was not sure how old he actually was. With no one to celebrate holidays and anniversaries, and through his demon eyes, time stretched like an unfettered landscape in front of him. There were times when he thought he went years without seeing anyone besides his horse, whole seasons spent in one place. The last time he had seen Pei Sijing she had looked more than twice his age, with grey in her hair. That had been some amount of time ago. It was possible that she was entirely grey now.
Wen Xiao drifted off next. She slowly fell asleep against a stack of books, her brush falling from her fingers. Both Xiao Zhuo and Zhao Yuanzhou looked over at her fondly.
“Should we get her to her room?” Zhao Yuanzhou offered. “You should go to sleep yourself, Xiao Zhuo daren.”
Zhuo Yichen shook his head. “Can we stay here? She always says that she sleeps best in the library anyway.” They both knew that she always said it ironically while trying to rub knots out of her neck from a strange night spent hunched over a desk, but Zhao Yuanzhou just nodded.
If this was reality, Zhuo Yichen would be very concerned about her comfort and the crick in her neck. But this wasn’t real. For all he knew they could disappear between one blink and the next.
Zhao Yuanzhou turned back to the book that Wen Xiao had given him. Zhuo Yichen turned back to his book as well, but it was not long before his eyes drifted from the words to gaze at the demon in front of him.
The soft light of the library lamps cast his face half in shadow and half in gold. It highlighted the slight downturn to his mouth and the depths of his eyes. He looked so vital. Zhuo Yichen was tempted to reach out and poke him, just to feel the reality of him.
His hair was darker than Zhuo Yichen had remembered.
In his years of wandering, whenever he had happened to catch his own reflection, he had been surprised by the growing amount of white in his hair. He had told himself that he was looking more and more like Zhao Yuanzhou and remembered what he had said about long white hair being attractive to demons. Now he realized that his hair was already much whiter than Zhao Yuanzhou’s had been. He wondered what the great demon would think if he could see him now, if he’d like Yichen’s white hair, what he’d say if he saw him.
Zhao Yuanzhou turned a page. “Are you simply admiring my incredible beauty, or was there something else you needed?”
“Mm.” Zhuo Yichen shook his head, “There’s nothing else I needed.”
Zhao Yuanzhou closed his book and leaned forward, a mischievous smile at the corners of his lips. “Xiao Zhuo daren, you do realize how that sounds, don’t you?”
Zhuo Yichen leaned forward himself. “Oh?” he had forgotten the details of Zhao Yuanzhou’s eyes. He’ d remembered that they were dark brown, but he’d forgotten the exact shade, the small streaks of gold and black. “How does it sound?”
Zhao Yuanzhou blinked. “It-” he coughed, turning away and covering his face with his book. “It sounds like you have more reading to do.”
Zhuo Yichen smiled. He could not remember a time in life in which the old demon had backed off first. He wondered whether the faint pink blush high on Zhao Yuanzhao’s cheekbones was a trick of the lighting.
Zhao Yuanzhou did not look up again, opting instead to bury himself in their reading. Zhuo Yichen, on the other hand, got barely any reading done at all. He was too distracted by Zhao Yuanzhou’s unexpected physical presence to focus on anything else.
They stayed in the library until the dawn passed, and Wen Xiao woke to scold them for not going to bed.
“Demons don’t need to sleep much anyways.” Xiao Zhuo pouted under her scolding.
It caught her off guard, and she broke into a startled laugh. “Maybe that’s an excuse for some of you, but it’s hardly applicable to all parties present!”
It had been years since he’d heard her laugh like that, so pure and unfettered. It had been at least as long as he’d been wandering and, he suspected, somewhat before that still. Maybe she still laughed like that in her own life, but such laughs were no longer for him to share.
The handful of times that he’d seen her in between his years of wandering had been uncomfortable, mournful occasions, in which he could hardly bring himself to look her in the eye. She didn’t blame him, he knew, but it didn’t change anything. In all honesty, he wished she did blame him; he deserved her hatred, her rage. All that and more. He was, after all, the person who had killed the one she loved. Being with her, he thought he could understand how Zhao Yuanzhou had felt being around them all back then. Zhuo Yichen had Wen Xiao’s forgiveness, but sometimes forgiveness wasn’t enough.
When he looked at her, he could remember the bright smile she wore all throughout their youth, untempered by her years of loneliness and loss. When she smiled at him these days, it was a sad thing. The last time he’d seen her had been at least five years ago, and she had given him that warm, sad smile that felt like a loss all over again she took in his appearance. Rough and dirty from the road, calluses formed over the decades, and with his hair more white than black, they no longer met with joy, but with commiseration. He could only hope that she never saw the guilt he wore like a second skin.
“Yes,” Zhao Yuanzhou said in an exaggerated pout, “Xiao Zhuo has been a very bad influence on me.”
Wen Xiao laughed again, rapping the demon with a knuckle. “I think it’s the other way around.”
Zhao Yuanzhou sniffed in offense as he stood. “Oh fine, hold on to your biases.” He stretched, bending his neck back and forth, and Zhuo Yichen watched as his long dark hair swayed with the movement, “We should go wash up and make sure we’re prepared for the journey,” He held a hand out for Wen Xiao, “We don’t have too long until we’re supposed to meet back up.”
Zhuo Yichen also stood, ignoring the numbness in his legs, and followed them into the hallway. He watched as they walked off together. If this was the moment at which he would wake, he wanted to look at the two of them as long as possible. He watched them until they turned the corner out of his sight before he turned to his own room in the opposite direction.
To his relief, it was not so easy to wake from this dream, and he washed and packed without disturbing his sleep. He returned to the hall, where he met with Pei Sijing and Wen Xiao, who brewed tea as they waited. He’d forgotten how young Pei Sijing had been. He’d always thought of her as their capable and commanding sharp-shooter, and so he was surprised at how intensely young she looked to him now. If he met her for the first time today, he’d think she was barely more than a child. Far too young for the amount of responsibility she shouldered.
The door swung open, and Ying Lei and Bai Jiu came through it, swinging their arms in tandem, like they’d come up with some kind of funny dance move.
“I'm so happy we're going to mount Kunlun!” Bai Jiu sang out in lieu of greeting. “Let me tell you, I've packed a lot of things in my box. It's very heavy.” He tripped over his own feet just then, stumbling to come crashing down next to Zhuo Yichen. “Zhuo gege,” He groaned. “My box is so heavy.”
Zhuo Yichen could not keep himself from patting that little pile of fluffy hair. “Give it to me if you're tired.” He smiled, feeling that this was all so familiar. “I can carry it for you.”
“I told you that I could carry it for you!” Ying Lei pouted.
Xiao Jiu ignored him, locking his arms with Zhuo Yichen. “Thank you, Zhuo gege.”
Ying Lei scowled. “I’m stronger than Zhuo gege.”
Zhuo Yichen looked up at him. “That’s true.” He turned to Xiao Jiu. “If you want the strongest and best person for the job, you should definitely have Ying Lei carry your box for you.”
Xiao Jiu and Ying Lei both stared at him with wide eyes. Ying Lei’s mouth hung open.
Zhuo Yichen was saved from responding to their shocked looks by Zhao Yunzhao entering.
“Morning.” He looked around the room, peering at Zhuo Yichen in particular. “Friends.”
Wen Xiao clapped her hands together, “Everyone is here! “Ying Lei, lend us your incense burner.”
Ying Lei nodded. “Just mount Kunlun, no problem.” He smiled, “My turf.” He held up the incense burner, and Zhuo Yichen felt that old sensation of being swept away.
~
“This- this is mount Kunlun?” Xiao Jiu was the first to speak as they opened their eyes to take in their new surroundings.
“Well… sorry.” Ying Lei looked around pitifully. “When I was thinking about mount Kunlun just now, I suddenly thought that Miss Pei once mentioned Sinan water town at the foot of mount Kunlun which had an interesting lantern festival, and I got distracted.”
Zhuo Yichen felt sick. It felt as if time was slowing down around him even as his companions continued to speak.
“Sinan water town is at the foot of mount Kunlun. I came here for an investigation once.” Pei Sijing said, “It happened to be during the lantern festival, so I casually mentioned it to Jiu. Why did you eavesdrop?”
It was like he had missed a step on the way down the stairs, like he wasn’t within his own body and was watching himself take a fall. Zhuo Yichen had been here before.
“It's fine. Mount Kunlun is not far away, we just have to hike a bit.”
He had done this before.
“Hike?”
“Hiking is good for your health.”
He was not dreaming of a beautiful reunion after a long separation, he was dreaming of the past, of a time before everything had gone so wrong. He was not in some happy reminiscent dream. He was on a precipice.
He looked out over the town that had become so dark and grim. Paper money blew in the wind, without anyone nearby scattering it. They meant death, just like this place, like this time.
Zhao Yuanzhuo gave words to his thoughts. “It looks like many people have died.”
“Wait,” Zhuo Yichen put out a hand. “This isn’t our destination. Let’s not stop.” He couldn’t watch it all happen again. He could not let it all happen again.
“But, Xiao Zhuo-” Wen Xiao started, gazing out over the falling paper and the dark miasma that clouded the town.
“Zhuo gege,” Bai Jiu interrupted, “Where are your bells?” Everyone turned to look at the two of them. One of Bai Jiu’s hands was in Zhuo Yichen’s hair, closing around the emptiness where he used to tie his bells.
For so many years now, Zhuo Yichen had gone without them, wearing only the empty bell Bai Jiu had left him. There had no longer been a purpose for them; He had started wearing them so that his brother could find him, but no one was looking for him anymore. Everyone who might have once looked for him was dead.
“I forgot.” He had fallen out of the habit of checking his appearance in the morning, and he had not even thought to include them when dressing.
Zhao Yuanzhuo gave him an appraising look and moved forward into the town, Pei Sijing close behind, with one arrow notched.
“We really should not stop,” Zhuo Yichen tried one more time, as his other companions stepped forward as well, “It's not safe here. We can come back and help these people later.”
No one looked at him, too occupied with the depressing scenery. Even Bai Jiu was looking around curiously, with one hand holding on to Zhuo Yichen’s sleeve.
Zhuo Yichen stepped forward, not wanting any of them to step out of his sight. He could feel his panic in his blood. He would end this dream now if he could. It would be better to sacrifice this sweet reunion than to go through all of it again. He couldn’t.
“What has destroyed this wealthy town is either war or plague.” Wen Xiao mused, looking around as the group walked forward.
“It's plague,” Zhuo Yichen said, “and if we don't want to catch it, we should go!”
Bai Jiu swung his box off his back, opening up a panel and rummaging inside, he drew out a handful of pills. “I made these detoxication pills myself. You each take one.” He passed one to each of them. “Try not to come in contact with the residents or animals here. Stay away from dead bodies.”
Moving faster than his thoughts, Zhuo Yichen slapped the pill from Zhao Yuanzhuo’s hand.
Zhao Yuanzhuo opened his mouth in offense.
“Don’t eat that.” Zhuo Yichen glared at him. “You don’t need to eat, so don’t eat the detoxication pill.”
“Zhuo gege,” Bai Jiu seemed hesitant. “The great demon can likely also catch the plague… A detoxication pill will still help keep him safe…”
“He’ll be fine.” He pointed a finger at Bai Jiu. “You, don’t give him anything. And you,” He pointed at Zhao Yuanzhuo, “don’t eat anything.”
Bai Jiu pursed his lips in a pout and glanced at Zhao Yuanzhuo, who was wearing a similar expression.
Zhuo Yichen watched them carefully until they moved on to other topics. He wondered how detailed this dream was, how much cause and effect it had. Was Xiao Jiu really still trying to seal Zhao Yuanzhuo’s five senses? And if so, could Zhuo Yichen stop it?
He racked his brains for further details about this particular case. “Don't touch any beads!” He commanded, giving each of them a stern look. “I've heard a lot about the plague being spread through red beads, so don't touch any of them.”
“Xiao Zhuo,” Wen Xiao started, with a laugh of disbelief “What-”
“I'm being completely serious.” He interrupted her. “If I see any of you so much as think about touching a red bead, you are off the team.” It was better to hurt their feelings now then deal with them getting the plague later. He waited until he saw all of them nod.
“Should we split up?” Pei Sijing offered, “We can cover more ground that way."
Zhuo Yichen considered it. It had been so long since he had last been here, he couldn't remember what they had done exactly, but his instincts said not to let any of them out of his sight. “No,” he said, “I have a bad feeling about this place, I'd rather we all stayed together."
“First things first,” Wen Xiao spoke up, “Zhao Yuanzhuo and I should seal the city to prevent the spread of infection.”
They had done that last time as well. Zhuo Yichen felt impatient, antsy. He wanted to be in and out of here as fast as possible, but still, he never could command the Baize goddess. “Fine. You two go work on that.” It seemed they would be splitting up despite his wishes.
He scowled, trying to recall any details about what had happened around this time. The plague was caused by Fei, who had been helping the bird demon, Qing Geng, who had been trying to undo the previous Baize goddess’ spell that was trapping them. They had captured Zhuo Yichen… somehow. He was foggy on the details as to how. She’d stabbed him with that awful needle, and sent him to go kill Zhao Yuanzhuo. He couldn’t quite remember how he’d resisted whatever control tactic she’d used, but he had broken out of it somehow, probably with Zhao Yuanzhuo’s help. They’d all gotten the plague from those beads, and Fei had died to try and stop the disease from spreading, which hadn’t worked at all, so Bai Jiu had eventually cured it.
“You three,” He nodded to Ying Lei, Pei Sijing, and Xiao Jiu, “Stay together, and start investigating a cure.”
“What about you?” Pei Sijing asked.
“I’ll…” Zhuo Yichen paused, genuinely unsure of what he should do, “…start hunting demons.”