As the night deepened in the forest, the ruler-subject pair sat in silence. Jiang Zhilan awkwardly tended to the fire, his gaze occasionally flitting over to Liu Qingyuan's figure. The tangled sticks scratched his soft hands and the pile was growing alarmingly smaller. He...hadn't picked up the best firewood.
Liu Qingyuan stared at the sliver of moonlight that he could see from the hole. The slight bend in the tunnel blocked some of the wind, but with winter approaching, the chill was still noticeable. The cave's temperature steadily decreased. After that hug, Liu Qingyuan wasn't feeling as feverish but suddenly he wished for it back. The cold...buried into his bones and refused to let go. Liu Qingyuan broke from his trance, turning his head to gaze at the pitifully small fire and the even smaller pile of twigs. The image invoked a cloud of despair in his chest.
"I can go get more firewood," He said, his voice a little hoarse. Only the wind was a bit cold; it wasn't like it was snowing. Jiang Zhilan's head snapped up.
"N-no need." You're injured... Liu Qingyuan shot him a sharp look.
"Do you want to freeze?"
"..." Hearing no reply, Liu Qingyuan pushed himself to his feet, pausing for a moment to let his head stop spinning from the sudden movement. He felt a hand on his arm and looked down to the strange look on the king's face.
"I can go."Â Liu Qingyuan pulled his arm awkwardly away and turned his head anywhere but at him. The king's lips were pink from worrying them between his teeth. He mentally smacked himself for noticing. What were you thinking?!
"Can you defend yourself?" Liu Qingyuan changed the topic. The king felt like he was mocking him so he let out in an indignant huff.
"Of course I can! What kind of ruler wouldn't know how to defend themselves?" Liu Qingyuan scoffed internally. Gongzhuan ah, Gongzhuan, looks like you need to step it up. Even the king studies diligently and doesn't slack off. His face twisted at the memory of Gongzhuan's king. It didn't matter anyways, he was only loyal to his master. Only his master...
"Do you even know what to look for?" Jiang Zhilan scowled at his words.
"I won't make the same mistake twice." He glanced at the pile of pitifully thin twigs. Jiang Zhilan had pulled his tattered clothing tighter around him and prepared to head into the chill. Liu Qingyuan pulled him back. "What?"
Be careful. He wanted to say, but the words tangled in his throat. He let the king go and turned his head away. "Nothing." Jiang Zhilan stared at him suspiciously for a few seconds.
"Well, you can try to sleep or something." And he was gone.
Liu Qingyuan stood in the dimly lit cave, staring at the small fire. After a few moments, he walked over, crouching beside it to feed a few frail twigs into it. Liu Qingyuan sat down, staring into the dancing flame, its small form flickering tantalizingly like a dancer clad in red. He eventually laid down to stave off the dizziness. A cold draft whistled into the cave and Liu Qingyuan found himself wishing the king would hurry up.
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Liu Qingyuan had slept himself into a daze but he became alert the moment another presence entered the cave. He kept his eyes closed, tracking Jiang Zhilan's position by the sounds of rustling cloth and the clack of wood against wood. Jiang Zhilan glanced over, seeing Liu Qingyuan's still form lying with his eyes closed. He quietly pushed a big piece of wood into the flame, poking it occasionally as heat flared in the cave.
With the combined heat of the fire and his fever-muddled head, Liu Qingyuan was involuntarily pulled into sleep.
Jiang Zhilan sat there for a while, occasionally looking at Liu Qingyuan's sleeping face. He looked so serious even when he was sleeping. Eventually, his gaze shifted lower, to the edge of coarse bandage that peeked out the neck of his loose robes. That mark he'd seen...
After staring for a little while longer, the king shifted to his knees, shuffling over Liu Qingyuan. Tentatively he reached out a hand. I'm not trying to be inappropriate! I'm just checking his wound! With that firm reason, Jiang Zhilan pushed the collar of his robes aside. His body betrayed him, cheeks flushing pink. It still felt...wrong. The king quickly shook his head to dispel any weird thoughts and gently untied the clumsy knot.
Jiang Zhilan leaned closer, squinting his eyes in the dim firelight. He was right! There was a slightly shiny mark right by the wound. Was it an old scar? It looked kind of like...a feather. He tilted his head to get a better look.
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The cold was biting, so furiously that his feet were numb and without feeling. Small hands clutched an even smaller body, shivering from the violent onslaught of white flakes. Liu Qingyuan looked up, catching through his hazy vision, a few more dirty faces in the alleyway. He looked past them, to the alley's exit and saw that it opened to a round market square. It was deserted however, the citizens in favour of staying shut in their warm homes on such a cold day.
Liu Qingyuan looked down at his small body and back up at the desolate scene. "This...this is Yangsong city..." A violent shiver racked through his emaciated frame, partly from the cold and partly from the horror of the realization. The cold...how could he have ever forgotten this bone chilling cold when it'd almost pushed him to death.
Young Liu Qingyuan stumbled to his feet, his gaze panicked. His master; if he could just find Mo Wu in this memory, then it'd be okay. Liu Qingyuan controlled this little body of his to the mouth of the alleyway but his small feet were already frozen numb and he tumbled face-first into the snow. The flakey whiteness seemed to morph hands, pulling his limbs deeper and deeper so that he couldn't escape even as he flailed about.
Two snow-capped boots appeared in front of his face, filling Liu Qingyuan with an inexplicable sense of relief. "Master..." he mumbled, struggling to look up. "Help me," his voice was the voice of a child's, weak and pitiful. Nothing moved. Liu Qingyuan felt the cold snow cover his back. "Master?"
However, unlike his previous memory, this dream Mo Wu made no move to help. He didn't reach out a hand and lift him up. He didn't stuff a warm bun into his arms and look him up and down shrewdly before turning to leave. Those black boots stayed right where they were, then slowly withdrew and walked away. Liu Qingyuan wanted to tell him to come back but snow filled his mouth and he choked on the coldness. Those ice-cold hands pulled him under until his vision was filled with white.
Liu Qingyuan was panting harshly, his hands shaking. The panic was brimming in his lungs until he blinked and took a good look around. He sat in front of a stone stove, the heat a pleasant reminder. He looked down at his hands, they were bigger now. He was a teenager...
Relief filled Liu Qingyuan. His master had saved him after all. He raised his head at the distinct soft footsteps. Although his body was his teenage one, his consciousness was his current one and after being Mo Wu's disciple for so long, he recognized his footsteps. Mo Wu's immortal form appeared around the doorway, having not seemed to have aged a day between then and now. His hair was pulled up in a ponytail and secured with his crown-pin, that signature mask on his face making his sharp features all the more devilish.
"Liu Qingyuan," He flipped a dagger in his hands and Liu Qingyuan's gaze narrowed in on it. That was the weapon he used to carry out his master's first task... Mo Wu's smile bordered on cruel. "Come here."
The teenage Liu Qingyuan would have gotten up with no hesitation, always eager to please but the current one hesitated just a fraction of a second. In the next moment, something cold touched his knee and he froze. Looking back to the stove, Liu Qingyuan startled at the red substance leaking from the stone and staining his clothes. He tried to get up but his knee refused to work and he fell back down, his hand landing in the puddle of copper liquid. It burned. It really did, but in a way that chilled Liu Qingyuan to his core. (literally and figuratively). He lifted his hand, trying to wipe the vicious liquid away but it wouldn't leave. The chill bit deeper and crawled up his arm.
"Master-" Liu Qingyuan looked up, his bubbling levels of panic rising sharply. Mo Wu was gone. He turned back around. The fire was gone too. The wooden door slammed open with a terrifying bang, the sharp wind howling in disdain and tearing the paper windows to shreds. Snow-white flakes flew into the room, swirling around Liu Qingyuan. "No-"
His limbs grew heavy and sluggish, condemning him to his fate. The cold piled up to his waist. Liu Qingyuan clawed at the white mass, but it pulled him deeper like it was quicksand. His fearful cry was drowned in the howling wind as form was pulled completely under.
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Liu Qingyuan woke up with a start, startling at the presence above him. He reached out fingers snagging in Jiang Zhilan's robes. Yanked to the side, Jiang Zhilan tumbled onto his back onto the hard stone floor. Liu Qingyuan rolled on top of him, their bodies pressing together in all the right places.
"You-" His words trailed off at the dark look in his eyes. "It's me..." Liu Qingyuan's hair was messy, eyes half-lidded. If Jiang Zhilan glanced down, the loosened collar of his robes exposed the smooth planes of his chest.
Liu Qingyuan blinked, looking down at his reddened cheeks and the slim fingers that still clutched the bloodied bandage in shock and finally registered who it was. "...Don't do that," he whispered. The distance between their faces closed and Jiang Zhilan shut his eyes tightly. Instead, Liu Qingyuan's weight pressed down on him, forcing the breath from his lungs. Jiang Zhilan stewed in embarrassed silence, hands clutching the robes of his "assailant". He tugged gently. "Qingyuan?"
The large weight above him, hesitated then slowly rolled off. Liu Qingyuan shifted to his side, back facing the king and curled up slightly, trying to stave off the imaginary chill. There was a moment of silence and then Liu Qingyuan felt a warmth at his back, an arm looping over his waist. He froze.
"Don't move." Those two words were whispered from behind him, hot air brushing the back of his neck. Jiang Zhilan could feel the slightest tremors through Liu Qingyuan's body, making him wonder if he was cold or if it was something else. Liu Qingyuan didn't relax, his muscles still tense. Jiang Zhilan bit his lip. Was it too much? Should he retract his arm?
The moment he made to move, a rough hand grabbed his own. "Don't leave," Liu Qingyuan said, his voice low and hoarse. Jiang Zhilan complied, unconsciously burying his face into his back. Clutching Liu Qingyuan's warm figure, he quickly fell asleep. Liu Qingyuan followed soon after. Neither of them noticed that the blackened wound near Liu Qingyuan's shoulder seemed as if it had healed slightly.
A/NÂ After so long, here's another chapter >-<
So much has happened I don't even know how to start. Anyway, I can't believe it's almost September again. (Noooo!) With summer school taking half my summer and then a vacation, I feel like I didn't even have time to properly curl up in bed and binge books or focus on my hobbies. (I'm very much a home-body) T-T Hope y'all had a great summer tho :)