Chapter Text
It was finally summertime in Yunmeng, which meant many things.
One, the lotus flowers had bloomed and the pods were ripe for harvesting.
Two, the famed Lotus Pier Night Market would reopen for its seasonal stint, as merchants upgraded their wares and sold anything from handmade fans and sandals to tanghulu and spicy sesame cakes.
Three, the Yunmeng dragon would require another sacrifice.
The legend of the Yunmeng dragon was as old as the land. There wasn’t a single soul in the region who hadn’t heard of it – even those in surrounding towns were familiar with the stories.
The dragon, Sandu Shengshou as it was better known, was a fearsome creature as large and ancient as the mountains that surrounded and protected Yunmeng from the intruders and rulers from far-off kingdoms seeking to steal the lush resources of the land for themselves. The beast had supposedly come into existence with the first formation of Yunmeng’s endless lakes and valleys, and was infinitely wise and powerful, with the power of bringing great fortune and prosperity to the land and its people, as well as great calamity and ruin.
As the legend goes, Sandu Shengshou had an extremely short temper and disliked humans with a passion. When asking for his blessing for a birth or a harvest season, people of the past had to take great care not to accidentally offend the ancient creature, lest his wrath bring plague and pests upon the village. To temper his anger, the villagers decided to offer yearly sacrifices to appease him. They gave up their best cows and pigs and chickens to him, one from each farming family. The village lived peacefully alongside Sandu Shengshou for many years this way, but eventually, he started demanding more. After all, dragons are creatures of greed – their very beings are insatiability manifest.
So the villagers agreed to increase the amount of livestock for their yearly offerings. Soon, they were giving away so many of their animals that the village started to go hungry, unable to keep up with the dragon’s endless appetite, yet still Sandu Shengshou wanted more. He became more and more impatient with each passing year, and his growing irritation with the village’s insufficient offerings showed itself in the increasing frequency of sudden flash floods or dry spells that took their toll on the village’s crops.
After a particularly bad storm that destroyed not only half the village’s fields but also a large number of homes, the village elders decided something had to be done. They held a council meeting the very next day, and debated over how to solve the issue of the dragon’s endless appetite and reign of terror over the village.
Could they slay the dragon? One asked. No, it was too powerful, its hide too thick for any blade to pierce it, and who knew what other awful dragon magic the creature had? They’d likely only bring ruin upon themselves if they tried to attack the beast. Best not to test how far his wrath could go.
If they could not be rid of the dragon, then what else could they do? They could not afford to increase the amount of their offerings. Even if things stayed as they were, everyone in the village would perish from starvation before another handful of seasons had passed. No one was brave – or foolish – enough to try to bargain a cheaper deal with the dragon, either. Even if such an endeavor were to be attempted, it would be unlikely to work.
After a week, the council finally came to a decision. They called all the villagers to gather together and revealed their verdict.
In exchange for keeping half of their livestock, the village would offer Sandu Shengshou one human sacrifice each year. They had hoped that the intelligence of a man might be of more use to the beast than that of the many lesser intelligent life forms it was used to receiving.
The sacrifice would be decided by a random drawing of names and would exclude children and the elderly. They had no other choice. One life to protect the many.
By some miracle, Sandu agreed to the exchange and accepted the sacrifices without complaint. No one knew what became of the villagers that Sandu Shengshou took, as nothing was heard from them ever again. Most assumed the worst – that they had become the livestock themselves.
Many years passed, and eventually, the stories of Sandu began to fade. There was no explanation for why this happened, why the village’s fear of the beast tempered, or why the tales became sparser and more abstract until only a handful were left, at that point so removed from their original tellings that it became difficult to separate fact from fiction, and myth from memory.
In modern times, the legend of the Yunmeng dragon had largely morphed into the stuff of myths and tall tales meant to frighten children into behaving. Don’t swim too far past the reeds! Sandu will see you and chase you. Finish your rice or else Sandu will smell the leftover food and come eat you instead! Be respectful of your elders. If you aren’t, Sandu will burn all your toes off with his fire-breath!
But there were always those who still believed that the dragon existed, somewhere deep in the mountains that bordered Yunmeng’s territory.
One such believer was a young man by the name of Wei Wuxian.
The son of a famous painter, Wei Wuxian was a fun-loving, carefree individual who loved luxury almost as much as he loved getting into trouble. He had inherited his father’s impressive natural talents but could rarely sit still for any period of time long enough to produce a finished piece of work. He abandoned his artwork like they were useless scraps the second he became distracted by something new and interesting, and as a result, his home was filled with hundreds of half-finished sketches strewn haphazardly about. Who had time for organizing when the world was so vast and full of wonder?
Wei Wuxian had an imagination as wild as it was limitless, and he always thought himself destined for adventure. That great adventure, he figured one day, would be finding the Yunmeng dragon and proving its existence once and for all.
And what better way to do that than to offer himself up as a sacrifice? If the stories were true, then the dragon hadn’t had a human sacrifice in nearly a century. It would be an irresistible temptation that would surely lure him out of hiding. Wei Wuxian was certain the creature still resided in the mountains surrounding Yunmeng, cut off from the human world, biding his time until he could rise again one day and return to his former glory.
Such reasoning culminated in a years-long attempt at finding Sandu Shengshou, to no avail. But Wei Wuxian was not a man who gave up easily when something genuinely piqued his interest, and this was the most exciting venture he’d had yet. He was so close, the discovery right on the tip of his fingers. Which is why, for this year’s attempt, he decided to enlist some outside help.
“You do know that even if the stories are true, that would still mean the practice of human sacrifices was done away with over two hundred years ago, right?” An irritated voice asked as the person it belonged to yanked a handful of Wei Wuxian’s hair to pin to the back of his head.
“Not so hard, Wen Qing!” Wei Wuxian complained. “And I know but it’s not like it’s- Ow! Be gentle! It’s not like what I’m doing is illegal or anything. At least none of the elders have tried to stop me yet.”
“Yes, because you never listen! You’re as stubborn as a mule and almost as stupid as one too.”
“At least I don’t smell like one!” He stuck out his tongue at her and she retorted by pulling his hair even tighter. He yelped and shot her an indignant glare, but kept his mouth shut. If he pissed her off, he’d be hard pressed finding another person to finish the task. He didn’t have the best reputation among the villagers due to his flippant attitude and penchant for troublemaking, and despite Wen Qing’s snark, she really did put up with a lot of his antics.
“I just don’t understand why you waste your time with this,” she continued, clipping a long, red ribbon into his hair. “Sure you’re rich with nothing better to do, but isn’t it getting silly at this point? Sandu is just something parents scare their kids with to get them to do their chores. The only people who still believe in it are superstitious grandmothers and that weird guy who’s always writing stuff on his walls in chicken blood.”
“Mo Xuanyu?” Wen Ning, Wen Qing’s younger brother, piped up from where he was helping to rub lotus-scented lotion into Wei Wuxian’s calves.
“Yeah, him. Do you really want to put yourself in the same category as Mo Xuanyu?”
Wei Wuxian grimaced. “No. But I promise you, Sandu is out there, and I’m going to find him. I’ll go down in history as the devilishly handsome and talented adventurer who met the fearsome Yunmeng dragon! The ladies will swarm.”
“If you live to tell the tale,” Wen Ning remarked under his breath, which Wei Wuxian heard and responded to by kicking him pettily on the shoulder. Wen Ning slapped his heel in retaliation.
“Don’t worry, if they don’t end up finding your body, we’ll be sure to spread the story of your heroic deeds far and wide,” Wen Qing teased, slicking back his baby hairs with her thumb.
“You guys are so mean to me,” Wei Wuxian whined. “I’m not going to share any of my massive fame with you.”
“Fine by me,” Wen Qing said. “Now bend over so I can wax your ass.”
Wei Wuxian complied with a wink, flipping his robe aside and hiking one leg up on a stool, previous grievances forgotten. “If you wanted to see the goods, Wen Qing, you could have just asked. I won’t charge you to look, but touching is a different story.”
“Oh, shut up.” Wen Qing pinched his butt cheek, hard, before spreading hot wax on it, making Wei Wuxian hiss with the sting.
“Why is this necessary again?” Wen Ning asked, desperately looking anywhere else.
“It’s not,” Wen Qing smirked, before ripping off the piece of wax in one quick motion. Wei Wuxian howled in pain, doubling over to clutch at his burning ass cheek. “He was just getting on my nerves.”
One hour and an agonizing butt wax later (Wei Wuxian swore Wen Qing took off multiple layers of skin), Wei Wuxian was ready to set off on his journey, only slightly limping.
“Come back in one piece, I guess.” Wen Qing rolled her eyes. She and Wen Ning were seeing him off at the gates of Lotus Pier. Wen Qing handed him the pack he prepared for the expedition, complete with five day’s worth of food if he was frugal. It should just be enough to get him there and back, providing that nothing went wrong.
It was unlikely anything would go wrong – Wei Wuxian was confident in his own abilities to weather whatever storms life might throw at him – but he also understood the unspoken agreement that his friends would come searching for him if he was gone for more than a week. The thought filled his heart with warmth as he suddenly felt immensely grateful for the incredible people in his life.
“Despite your prickly denials, Wen Qing, I know you’re going to miss this hot piece of ass.” He blew a kiss in her direction.
“Oh I’m very familiar with that ass, believe me. And it’s going to get another special treatment if you keep mentioning it,” she threatened sweetly. He shivered in dread, still feeling the sensitive skin rubbing against his robes.
“Alright, alright, I’m going, don’t enjoy the view too much.” He turned to leave when Wen Ning stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“Wait, Wei-xiong! You forgot this.”
Chenqing. Wei Wuxian grinned and reached out to ruffle Wen Ning’s hair. “What would I do without you two?”
Wen Qing snorted. “Probably die an embarrassing death.”
“Don’t let Sandu eat you!” Wen Ning called after him.
“No promises!” Wei Wuxian yelled back, his signature smile on his face as he walked away from his home and towards his destiny.
It would take him two days to reach the mountains where Sandu supposedly was residing, then another two days to get back, with one full day in-between to search the area, but no more than that. Wei Wuxian was a prideful man who aimed to be the best in whatever he did, so he decided that if he didn’t manage to find Sandu in the impressive time frame he had set, then it simply meant he wasn’t ready. He would save his time, return home, and start preparing for his next attempt.
The first day went by smoothly. The talented painter whistled cheerily the entire way, enjoying the fresh summer air and the smell of wildflowers. He spent the night in a small town at the base of the Yunmeng mountains, eating red bean zongzi and imagining the praise that would await him when he returned to the village. News would spread of his accomplishments and people would come from far and wide to hear the tale of Wei Wuxian, the sexy adventurer who encountered the incredible dragon Sandu Shengshou and survived!
He could hardly wait.
By the end of the second day, he was making great time. He had managed to find a trail leading into the thick foliage of the mountainside and had stumbled upon an enormous cave tucked away deep in the forest. To an unassuming passerby, such a discovery might have seemed unremarkable. After all, there were no shortage of caves similar to this one along the mountain range. But after years of searching, Wei Wuxian had a more discerning eye than most and knew what to look for.
The ground outside of the cave was a little too clean to be uninhabited, but this wasn’t merely the eccentric housekeeping efforts of some wild animal. The deliberate way in which branches and rocks were pushed aside pointed to the work of a being of higher intelligence, and Wei Wuxian doubted any human would be living this far away from any type of civilization. Not to mention the claw marks on the sides of the cave were much too large to be anything but a dragon.
Could this be it?
Heart in his throat, Wei Wuxian stepped inside the looming cave. It was even larger inside, the walls sloping so far above him he couldn’t even see where they stopped. Every small sound was amplified and echoed around the enclosed space eerily before fading away, making it seem as if there were another set of footsteps following his.
The further he went, the colder the air became until he was rubbing his arms to try to stay warm. Something skittered away out of the corner of his vision and Wei Wuxian nearly shrieked, managing to slap a hand over his mouth just in time. Probably some sort of rat. Or a heinously large insect, the thought of which almost made him want to turn back. But he steeled his resolve and kept going.
Wei Wuxian felt as if he’d been walking for hours, despite knowing it had likely only been a few minutes. This far into the cave, barely any light could penetrate, and the only sounds he could hear were his own: his rabbit-quick heartbeat fluttering in his ears, the soft slapping of his feet against the cold ground, and the shaky, shallow breaths he took through his nose.
Sometimes he thought he felt something brush against him, a light tap on his calf here, a whisper of a caress on his neck there. He hoped he wasn’t hallucinating. His mind began to spiral: Was he truly alone in here? Where did the cave end? What if it went on forever, and he was to be lost in its labyrinth, wandering the icy darkness for eternity?
Then, a low, rumbling growl jolted him from his thoughts, turning his legs to mung bean jelly as sizzling fear shot up his spine.
“Who… dare… disturb my rest?”
The very ground beneath him seemed to tremble as the terrifying voice, deep and impossibly vast as the lakes around his home, echoed around him. Wei Wuxian gulped, every instinct screaming at him to run. Several fraught heartbeats passed before he could force himself to speak.
“My-” he squeaked, clearing his throat. “My name is Wei Wuxian, of Lotus Pier. I… I have come to offer myself as a sacrifice to you, O Ancient One.” He wrung his hands nervously, flinching at every little flicker of shadow, as if out of their depths Sandu might suddenly appear and burn him to a crisp.
“And what makes you think I require such a sacrifice?” The dragon roared. “Or that such a pathetic, sniveling human such as yourself would even suffice?”
Wei Wuxian flinched at the harsh words while a confusing flush rose to his cheeks. “I-I don’t know. I just thought–“
“Thought what?” Sandu snarled as a terrible scraping sound was heard further into the cave. It sounded as if the dragon was moving, coming closer. Goosebumps burst all over Wei Wuxian’s flesh and sweat pebbled on his forehead, but he found he could not twitch even a finger. “How typical of men to serve their own egos. Selfish and violent, unable to see beyond your greed. Vile little creatures. So insignificant, yet utterly convinced of your own importance.”
Wei Wuxian whimpered as immense, thundering footsteps shook the walls of the cave, causing the painter to lose his balance and fall hard on his bottom with a squeak. Before he could right himself again, however, the sight of a great purple dragon emerging from the pitch-blackness caused every cell in his body to freeze completely.
Two gigantic, jagged horns curved out from above the ridge of its sloped brow, twisting backwards to pierce menacingly through the air. Fin-like appendages flared from the sides of its head, expanding and shrinking with each billowing breath the creature took. Wei Wuxian’s eyes traced the gleaming bioluminescent lights that dotted Sandu’s long neck, trailing along its body and ending at the tip of its spiked tail, flooding the surrounding area in a soft, white glow. Lilac scales glinted beckoningly in the dim light, reflecting and scattering the lightwaves in iridescent shimmers. Wei Wuxian traced his gaze towards the long, amethyst wings that, even folded and tucked into its body, dragged heavily along the ground, trailing behind the dragon like a massive wedding veil.
Sandu shifted and growled, the movement drawing Wei Wuxian’s attention to the dragon’s ultra sharp claws and serrated teeth, and the painter swallowed nervously, intrusive thoughts of him being impaled or crushed or slashed apart by those instruments of death ringing in his mind. His eyes quickly flicked up to Sandu’s own only to be pinned by the deep violet gaze he found there, swirling with a supernatural intelligence far beyond that of a human.
The dragon was dangerous. Nightmarish. Undeniably horrorific. Viciousness seeped from its every pore. But there was beauty, too. As apparent as day. And it took Wei Wuxian’s breath away.
Sandu was… magnificent. Simply stunning.
He told the dragon as much, his mind too dazed to control what ridiculous mumblings he was blurting out.
An enormous raised eyebrow was all he received for his stammering. “Flattery will not save your life, puny human,” the dragon sneered, unimpressed.
Wei Wuxian scrambled to his feet. “Oh yes, r-right. I only meant that you are the only dragon I’ve ever seen, and that the stories do not do you justice, O Famed One.”
“Stories?” Sandu asked with a low growl, although it seemed more curious than angry.
“Yes. Of the striking and tremendous Sandu Shengshou, who ruled over Yunmeng and struck fear into the hearts of every man far and wide. Whose magnificence was unparalleled, whose fire was as formidable as his wit, and whose endless generosity sustained the Yunmeng people for generations,” Wei Wuxian babbled on, his brain regaining its clarity and his silver tongue finally showing its use.
And despite the dragon’s earlier claim that flattery would not save him, the painter could see the dragon preening begrudgingly under the praise. Wei Wuxian fought to reel back his smile. Perhaps he would get out of this alive, after all!
“Well, it seems you humans have accurate memories at least, if nothing else,” Sandu sniffed, settling back onto his haunches. But before Wei Wuxian could mentally celebrate his small victory, Sandu lowered his head to glare at him intently. “But that does not answer my question. What makes you think that a majestic creature such as myself would require the sacrifice of a useless, piteous thing like you, Wei Wuxian?”
There was no mistaking the disdain in Sandu’s words, but Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but marvel at the way his name sounded in the dragon’s strange, lilting tones, fluttering and flowing like the wings of swallows that flitted across the lakes surrounding Lotus Pier, or like the peaceful ebbing of the waters when disturbed by a falling leaf. It reminded Wei Wuxian so distinctly of home that his heart squeezed in his chest for a moment, and he suddenly remembered from the tales that Sandu was as much a part of the land as the mountains he inhabited, or the vast lakes that enclosed their peaceful province. There was no Yunmeng without Sandu, no matter how much of his name and legacy were forgotten by its inhabitants; this was his home as well.
Sandu would protect his home, just as he did for thousands of years before, and Wei Wuxian was part of that home. There was no danger, nothing to fear here. With this in mind, Wei Wuxian felt the tension fully leave his body, and he squared his shoulders confidently as he addressed Sandu once more.
“Please forgive me, O Great One, for I did not mean to presume. It is said in those stories that Sandu Shengshou required sacrifices in return for protecting the land of Yunmeng,” Wei Wuxian explained. “Yunmeng has been prosperous for many years, yet there have been no more sacrifices. This lowly human simply wishes to show his appreciation. This one understands that the single sacrifice of an ignoble commoner is not enough to satiate the appetite of the magnificent protector–“
“Appetite?” Sandu interrupted, snorting in a manner quite unbecoming of a dragon. “I don’t eat humans. Wherever did you hear that?”
Wei Wuxian faltered. “You don’t?”
“Of course not,” Sandu scoffed, clearly offended at the accusation. “Have you ever tasted a human before? Bitter and tough and stringy, with barely any meat, even for the plump ones.” The dragon shuddered in disgust. “The one time I tried, I was picking him out of my teeth for weeks. He deserved it though. Nasty, mean little thing. His death was practically poetic justice.”
“But the stories…” Wei Wuxian started. “The stories said the village once offered you a human sacrifice in return for half of their livestock.”
“Which I refused,” the dragon said. “What use had I for a human? They could not best me in strength nor wit, were barely enough for a morsel, and most were terribly irritating. The livestock were much better. No, I turned down their offering and told whatever poor fool they had chosen to walk quietly to his death to scram back to the human village from whence he came.”
“Then how was it that no one ever saw those people again?” Wei Wuxian asked, all polite deference forgotten in light of the shocking news.
The beast grunted in reply, scratching at a scale on his wing. “How should I know? Perhaps your elders thought it was a convenient story to spin, the simple solution to their problems. A village full of starving, desperate people is bound for conflict, after all, and power is always fleeting. Perhaps they feared an uprising. Who knows how they did it? Locked them inside, forbade them communication with their loved ones, or even slaughtered them in cold blood. I wouldn’t put it past the human race to commit such evil, immoral acts.”
“If the stories were false, then what really happened?”
Sandu harrumphed and began to lower himself into a prone position closer to the ground, his large snout resting on top of his front legs as his long tail curled lazily around his body. Like an enormous, fire-breathing kitten, Wei Wuxian thought a bit hysterically. “Fine. I will tell you the truth of what transpired, but only because your incessant rambling is grating on my ears.” He waited for Wei Wuxian to give him his undivided attention, then continued. “Things were not as peaceful then,” he mused, his sharp, violet eyes flashing as if reliving those long-gone years. “Attempted invasions by foreign kings and barbarians were commonplace, and I was only a young wyrmling at the time. I had not yet grown into my full powers, and protecting the land from these trespassers took much of my strength. I needed regular nourishment to sustain my energy, which I received from the livestock that the villagers raised. I had an agreement with the village elders. One which they broke when they decided they did not want to continue holding up their end of the bargain, and tried to slay me to keep me silent.”
“What?” Wei Wuxian gasped. His ancestors had reneged on their promise and tried to kill Sandu? “Is that why you hate humans so much?”
“Yes, that is part of it,” Sandu conceded. “Among other things, such as your bothersome habit of asking too many questions.” He glared at Wei Wuxian, who flushed sheepishly.
Yet the painter couldn’t help but ask one more: “Why would the elders try to kill you if they knew you could just send a flood or a cloud of locusts to destroy their crops?”
The look Sandu gave him would have scared away a smarter man, but, well, Wei Wuxian was not a smart man, as Wen Qing loved to remind him of.
“Is that what you think? That I can make nature bend to my will? Foolish human. I cannot control the weather, nor invent floods or plagues out of thin air. I’m a dragon, not a god. And, as I said, I was a young drake at the time. Too young to even have my fire-breath. My scales were not the impenetrable fortress they are now, nor my wings as durable and untiring. I was half my present size and a much easier target for a mob of savage humans.”
Sandu’s words caused the painter to fall silent as he mulled over the stark contrast between what the dragon had said and the stories he’d heard as a child. How much had they gotten wrong?, he wondered, and what other truths were out there, waiting to be discovered?
“It seemed the determination of the elders to finish me off would not subside any time soon, and I was tired of being hunted like a rabbit. The village did not need me anymore anyway, as the invention of tools were beginning to make life easier. I knew it would not be long before mankind would prosper on its own, so I decided to retreat into the mountains where few would bother to reach and hibernate for many centuries in order to develop my golden core. Only once my core had matured would I have access to all my powers, and only then would I emerge.”
“So since you’re awake, I’m assuming your golden core has fully matured?”
“Correct. I finished with my hibernation many moons ago. I was napping when you so rudely invited yourself into my home and woke me with all your ruckus.” Another steely glare.
“My sincerest apologies again,” the painter said, hoping his contrite expression was enough to convey his penitence. “This one did not realize he was being so loud. But if I may ask, O Masterful One, now that you can access your full powers, are you going to reveal yourself again?” How marvelous that would be, the great Sandu Shengshou rising from the ashes of legend to rule the skies and lakes once again! People would be so shocked, and all would know that Wei Wuxian had been the one to find him! The painter couldn’t help but let out a small giggle. His greatest wish was about to come true!
“Of course not,” Sandu grumbled, and Wei Wuxian’s daydreams screeched to a halt.
“Wait, you’re not? Why not?”
“Because,” Sandu rolled his eyes (Wei Wuxian hadn’t even known that dragons could roll their eyes, but there was something new to be learned every day, he supposed). “It’s been what, 5,000 years since I’ve showed myself to a human? I doubt there’s anyone besides yourself who still believes I, or dragons in general, even exist. I’ve lived alongside your kind for thousands of years. I know what you’re like. When faced with something you don’t understand, you humans are much more likely to resort to violence than any other species on Earth. And I don’t relish being stalked and attacked again – it’s quite annoying. I much prefer my peace and quiet.”
“But don’t you want to get out of this cave?” Wei Wuxian asked desperately. “It’s so damp and musty and cold- no offense,” he added when Sandu shot him an irritated glare, “-but don’t you want to stretch your limbs a little? Spread your wings and soar across the sky?”
“I said no, and if you ask again, I will eat you, your bitter and rubbery human flesh be damned,” Sandu snapped, lifting his head and emphasizing his threat with a dark billow of smoke from his nostrils. Wei Wuxian could see through the thick skin of his neck to where a red, searing flame sat, waiting to be expelled. He quickly nodded, holding both hands up in a placating gesture and bowing his head and shoulders to seem smaller.
“I understand. I won’t ask again. This one is sorry for being presumptuous.”
Sandu said nothing in response, merely huffed and turned his head away as he rested it back on his front legs. The bright, scarlet flame in his throat died as the skin faded to a dusky purple once more. Dragon and man sat suspended in tense silence for several moments before man spoke up:
“I sense I have overstayed my welcome. I will be leaving now. This one thanks you for your undeserved and generous hospitality, O Immeasurable One, and apologizes once again for his rudeness and intrusion upon your territory and time. Farewell.” Wei Wuxian bowed deeply, then turned to leave. Before he could make it more than a dozen steps, however, a sudden, urgent tugging in his chest made him spin around despite his better judgment and every survival instinct he possessed. He faced Sandu, who had shifted his head to watch him leave, and forced himself to hold the dragon’s gaze even as his heart thrashed in his chest. “Would… would it be acceptable if this one were to return at some point? Just… I feel there is so much more I want to learn a-and you’re all I’ve been thinking about for the past decade of my life and this truly is such an incredible opportunity…” he trailed off, feeling more and more foolish with every word he spoke. Why would Sandu even entertain the prospect of seeing some lowly human again, especially given the dragon’s awful history with his ancestors? Wei Wuxian thought it was worth a try, but he was beginning to recognize his mistake. You’ve gone too damn far this time, you fool, he scolded himself, the voice in his head sounding suspiciously like Wen Qing. He already let you go, and now you’ll be lucky if you’re not burned to a crisp! “I’m, I’m sorry,” he stammered, turning back around, face burning. “Forget I said that. Goodbye.”
“Wait.”
Wei Wuxian froze in his steps, breath seized in his lungs. He didn’t dare let himself hope.
“I suppose… I could allow it,” Sandu drawled with all the boredom of a millennias-old creature. “If you can offer me something in return.”
Giddy with cautious excitement, the painter slowly twisted around. “Anything,” he spoke earnestly, despite Wen Qing’s voice yelling at him in his head about making promises he can’t guarantee he can keep.
“Bring me… something valuable. Something no other living soul has.”
“Okay!” Wei Wuxian readily agreed.
Sandu appeared to be slightly taken aback by his eagerness. “That’s not all. I have not eaten in weeks. Bring me livestock from your village, as much as you can carry.”
“Done,” Wei Wuxian nodded.
All he got was another puzzled look as Sandu scrutinized him with narrowed eyes. “And… something to entertain me with! I cannot be the only one filling the time.”
“Of course.”
For some reason, Sandu now looked even more cross. He rose to his full height and scowled down at the painter. “Are you just going to agree with whatever request I make of you?”
Wei Wuxian shrugged. “If that’s what it takes. As I said before, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me. It’s not every day you get to speak to a dragon! I’ll do whatever I can to please you, O Hallowed One.”
An odd sound like a strangled groan emitted from the dragon’s throat. If Wei Wuxian didn’t know any better, he might have thought that Sandu Shengshou, glorious terror and defender of the ten thousand lakes of Yunmeng, was blushing! All the same, he nearly could not believe his eyes as he watched the imposing dragon shift awkwardly from one side to the next, grumbling something under his breath and refusing to look in Wei Wuxian’s direction.
“Just go,” the beast finally said, sounding as strained as a dragon’s vocal cords could be. Then, upon noticing Wei Wuxian’s lack of going, added, “Now! Quickly!”
“Yes, sir!” Wei Wuxian saluted him. He quickly paled, stuttering. “Uh, I mean, y-yes, O Marvelous One. I’ll be going now. And I’ll bring all those things you mentioned when I return! Farewell!”
He didn’t wait to hear Sandu’s response as he spun around and practically skipped the rest of the way out of the cave, the path seeming much shorter this time around.
Outside, the sky was getting dark and Wei Wuxian’s stomach grumbled in protest, but he paid neither of these things any heed. He ran as quickly as he could, determined to reach the small village at the foot of the mountain before dusk so that he could retire early and set off towards home as soon as dawn broke the next day. There was no time to waste!
After all, he had a dragon to impress!
