Chapter Text
Steam coiled up through the air, leaving a moist residue on Jin Ling’s upper lip. He inhaled the pleasant vapors and savoured the earthy smell. The type of tea was different from his own personal choice, but it was Sizhui’s favourite, and that gave it a special place in Jin Ling’s mind.
Jin Ling swirled the hot tea around in his cup, and breathed in the calm once again.
Life would be easy if every day was like the one he was having. A well balanced blend of tea, a soft afternoon sun streaming through clouds, and Sizhui, soaking in the same delight. Just a smile over the lip of Sizhui’s cup and Jin Ling knew everything was how he wanted it.
A low thud traveled on a direct path to Jin Ling’s ears. It distracted from the heat in his hands, as did the groan that followed. It warranted a turn of his head, to receive the harshest glare he could control while under Sizhui’s eye.
“Are you trying to ruin everything?” Jin Ling’s sneer pulled tight against his face. The weight of the cup in his hand brought about ideas of hurling it with his anger, but Sizhui had poured it for him, so there was no way the cup was leaving him.
Jin Ling allowed himself a dramatic flap of his sleeves, accentuating his detest as he turned his attention back where it belonged. “Don’t drop them. If you keep dropping things, I’ll make sure you pay back any damages.”
The previous groan was shattered, paling in comparison to the rumble Jingyi sent out into the sky. “I’m not damaging anything! If these books weren’t ridiculously big they’d be easier to lay out!” His complaint flew to the wrong audience as only Zizhen nodded from his place on the stone steps.
“Would you blame a mountain for its height?” Jin Ling contented, setting his cup on the table next to him with a clack.
Jingyi’s arms launched into the air. “So the Jin sect’s storage shack is comparable to a mountain?”
Jin Ling’s shoulders tightened, mimicking his brow. “A shack! What palaces of white jade have you been living in if this storage vault is a shack?” His words shot like flames, snapping and popping up his throat as a threat for more to come.
“Jin Ling,” Without any effort, Sizhui’s voice cut through the noise of the world. A deep sigh made his body light as he turned to the fresh pot of tea. “Weren’t you going to relax?” He hummed, already moving to fill Jin Ling’s cup. “If you jump at every sound you’ll only exhaust yourself.”
Warmth passed through Jin Ling’s chest, racing to find the bottom of his feet. “You’re right,” He grinned, running his finger over the rim of his cup. “I said I would enjoy my triumph, so I will. Though it would be more enjoyable to do so in actual quiet.”
Sizhui tilted his head, sneaking a glance over Jin Ling’s shoulder to the barely diligent work. “If I helped, the task would be finished sooner.”
Waving his hand in front of his face, Jin Ling dismissed even the slightest hint of offered help. “Zizhen already volunteered. If Jingyi gets any more help then what kind of punishment would it be for losing the bet?”
Pushing out his bottom lip, Sizhui gave a noncommittal sound of agreement, and a new angle for Jin Ling to take in. Every relaxed action and word were new and novel to Sizhui’s face. It was a side Jin Ling took pride in helping grow.
Jin Ling’s grin stretched further, accepting his topped up cup of heavenly bitter tea. “This is a reward for me as it is for you. Even without taking part in the bet, I had your favour.”
Sizhui’s head tilted once more in one single smooth movement. His chin cut through the sun that reached into the pavilion. “Why would I ever bet against you?” Sizhui’s smile had the power to incapacitate entire armies, and Jin Ling’s mind was no exception.
“Besides,” He sighed. “It would be wrong to place a bet when I knew the answer. With how overenthusiastic Jingyi was, there was no outcome where he would catch more prey than you did last night.”
Jin Ling adjusted in his seat, feeling his height grow with the gifted confidence. “This is exactly why you’re a better opponent to go up against.” He nodded, directing the attention more to the board in front of them. “But now you seem too hesitant. Don’t tell me that Lan teachings only focus on three of the four arts.”
Sizhui’s eyes dropped, reexamining the weiqi board between them. Light danced in the corners of his eyes as the tips of his fingers touched around the stones closest to him. “If there is an opportunity to learn, it’s never ignored in our teachings.” Sizhui’s voice hovered between a whisper and a hiss, letting the air hang purposefully in the vague unknown.
Feeling his patience thin, Jin Ling clicked his tongue. “I know you’re focusing too much on them, but put them out of your mind. I’ll only have them air the books until the evening meal is set. Whatever they don’t finish I’ll get some servants to.”
Sizhui’s attention lifted quickly, as did his fingers. The warmth from his smile spread colour to his cheeks. “Sect leader Jin is so kind-hearted.” He laughed, taking Jin Ling’s soul up into the clouds.
“Well, if you listened to Jingyi’s accusations I’m actually a tyrant.” Jin Ling chuckled, hiding the stains of his own skin as he reached across the board.
Without a hint of shame, his fingers dove into the bowl next to Sizhui’s leg, mixing the white stones around by the ends of his fingers. “Now, can you spare some attention to your pieces?” A teasing lilt seeped into his voice as he continued fondling the stones. “They’ll get lonely if you don’t use them.”
A sudden shift in Sizhui’s smile shot sparks up to Jin Ling’s skull. The pieces that once felt cool to the touch turned scorching, and he retracted his hand without a word.
Visibly pleased, Sizhui’s shoulders relaxed, allowing his own hand to rise, and find Jin Ling’s bowl of stones. There was no hesitation for where the bowl was, or how it had sunken into Jin Ling’s lap; Sizhui’s fingers played in the black stones all the same.
His fingers pushed around slowly, judging each smooth piece as if he needed to look for the right one. The perfectly nonchalant expression Sizhui wore was too much for Jin Ling to take. What kind of upstanding scholar put his hand so close to what he shouldn’t, and to what Jin Ling terribly wanted him to touch.
Click.
Jin Ling blinked, bringing his body down from the sudden height, and looked back to the board. The expectation had disappeared, slipping with the lost moment as he looked for Sizhui’s newest move, but there were no new white pieces to account for.
“It seems you forgot.” Sizhui exhaled with a curve to his mouth. “It was your turn, not mine.”
Jin Ling’s fingers gripped the corners of the board, feeling Sizhui take back the gift of confidence he gave only moments prior.
“Out of fairness, I played how you would.” Sizhui’s focus left the board. The satisfaction in his smile wasn’t missed as he turned to grab his cup. One hand kept his sleeve close to his arm, and the other tipped back his tea. Every ounce of him was elegant.
“You need to make sure your pieces don’t get lonely as well, Ling-ge.” Sizhui’s sigh traveled with heat and a pleasant gasp after his long gulp. No effort was needed to affect the very being across from him. He just needed to breathe.
“Have you even read all of these books?” Jingyi’s voice shot out again. His talent for bringing out the details of the vein in Jin Ling’s forehead was incomparable.
Slamming his palm to the table, Jin Ling finally snapped his whole body around. “And have you read every single book in Cloud Recesses’ library?” He countered, struggling to shove down his irritation. His moments with Sizhui always felt so short. Jin Ling couldn’t allow another one to be cut off so soon.
Jingyi’s hands pressed into his lower back, exaggerating his stretch. “If you’re not using them then you should just get rid of them. I’m sure whoever has to clean this next would be grateful.” He groaned, instinctively turning to Zizhen to find agreement.
Unlike Jingyi’s overdone effort, Zizhen practically lounged on the stone steps, leisurely sifting through pages before standing books and scrolls in a row. His eyes had been caught on a particular book for an extended period of time. Just seeing Zizhen’s constant lift and drop of his brow made Jin Ling second guess what was stored away.
“Can you read these?” Zizhen mumbled as he dropped the book away from his face. “The wording feels off. Some sentences make sense and some don’t.”
Jin Ling leaned nearly off his seat as he squinted at the title of what Zizhen held. He blinked, recovering from an impending headache, and fell back comfortably with both feet on the ground. “Some of the books are from Goguryeo.” He shrugged, choosing not to expend any more energy on explaining further.
Zizhen’s face lit up. With a swing of his legs he forced himself upright. “Then, could this have secret cultivation techniques?” His voice jumped with excitement as he waved the book around. Pages swayed in the wind, catching Jingyi’s attention with it.
“It’s not wise to test techniques you don’t know the end to.” Sizhui added himself into the mix, casting the voice of reason for all to reflect on. “Besides, mixing multiple cultivation paths can cloud the mind and potentially harm your meridians.”
Jin Ling held his tongue, only sweeping a knowing look back at Sizhui. It was unfair how the man could advise against something so calmly when he went against his own word.
Zizhen’s brow dropped and his bottom lip pushed out. “I’m not saying I’ll do it.” He whined, acting like his feigned innocence was fooling anyone around him. “But this keeps mentioning the word ‘demon’ so I can’t help but be a bit curious.”
“Demons?” Jingyi leapt at the idea instantly. The sudden stride he picked up narrowly avoided each book and scroll that decorated the stairs landing.
Jin Ling knew his moment of peace ended as Sizhui stood up. Selflessly he always took up the job of corralling and controlling those around him; a pacifist tendency Jin Ling wished he would cast away one day.
With his hands raised gently in the air, Sizhui stepped out of the pavilion. “It’s best not to play with anything we don’t entirely understand.” His tone was light, soft, and the ideal sound to calm any wild animal. He was more controlled than the board he left with only two moves away from Jin Ling’s loss.
“Oh come on,” Jingyi huffed with puffed out cheeks. “It’s probably not actual demons. I doubt the Jin would be stupid enough to leave this unguarded if it was.” His chin lifted, angling his lazy gaze to Jin Ling. The choice of words was sly and precise, confident they wouldn’t be contested.
Jin Ling crossed his arms. “Of course there’s nothing dangerous.” He declared with confidence even as he remained reluctant to stand up. “Most of the materials were deemed to be written history or folk stories. There wouldn't be anything to summon a demon or anything close to it.”
Jingyi’s eyebrows danced as he peered over Zizhen’s shoulder. “A-Zhen never said anything about summoning…”
Jin Ling sucked in a sharp breath. He hated the provoking taste Jingyi left on his tongue.
“Lan Yuan!” Jin Ling yelled, feeling his chest grow tight. The bowl of stones once in his lap was slammed to the table. If Jin Ling had to move from his seat and deal with childish implications then he would make it everyone’s problem.
On cue, Sizhui dug his fingers into the top of the book. A smile once filled with warmth flattened to an icy plane. “If you have time for games then you have ample time to finish airing out this library.”
Zizhen shrunk behind the cover, holding the pages higher to defend himself. Jingyi contrasted the reaction and grabbed Sizhui’s hand. “If you tell me you’re not curious then you’re lying.” His grin crept high up his face and he tested Sizhui’s grip with a tug.
An unpleasant shiver broadened Jin Ling’s shoulders. “You’re mad if you want to test it all for a joke!” He spat while his focus honed entirely on Jingyi’s face. Seeing the overlapped hands would only turn his stomach.
“You said it yourself that there’s nothing dangerous here! What’s the harm? At worst it’ll end up being a trick for children.” Jingyi challenged, pushing out his chest. His knee dipped forward, moving just enough to tap Zizhen between his shoulder blades. “What does it say, A-Zhen? What do we need to make it work?”
“Ah, um…” Zizhen’s voice wavered as if he didn’t expect to be brought into the argument. For his size, he knew how to make himself seem small.
“By what I’ve read, I think we just need some fire and blank talisman paper.” He responded with minimal difficulty as he looked up to Jingyi. “The rest seems to just be instructions on what to say.”
With the bare bones instructions, Jingyi jumped back. His mind was quick, working in tandem with his feet to lead him deep into the storage building.
Sizhui’s shoulders fell when he realized his energy would be wasted. Instead of fighting, he stepped back, joining Jin Ling on the bottom step. “You’re sure it’s nothing dangerous, Ling-ge?” He sighed, only tilting his head to Jin Ling in acknowledgement.
“Unless they do something abhorrently wrong, there’s no danger.” Jin Ling grumbled with half confidence. He hadn’t personally checked every book but he had faith in those that did for him.
Stumbling out of the open doors, Jingyi rolled out a heating brazier by its feet to the top of the stairs. He blew out a short stream of air before fixing his hands to his hips. “This should do it!” He laughed while pulling the second requirement out of his sleeve pocket. “Do we have to write anything? Do we just throw them into the fire?”
Zizhen didn’t even blink at the rushed succession of questions. All his effort condensed into lifting himself up and ascending the stairs. “I’ll take them.” He gasped trying to pretend the excitement didn’t wind him.
He tucked the book into his arm as the pile of papers hit his palm. “There’s a certain incantation it mentioned. I think we just need to write it and then burn the talisman.”
Anger brewed bubbles inside Jin Ling’s stomach as he stomped up with Sizhui. One of the last things he wanted that day after fairly winning their nighthunt bet was more shenanigans to distract Sizhui’s attention. When it was on something that wasn’t Jin Ling, it was a waste of time.
With lacking self preservation skills, Zizhen failed to detect the fog of bitterness drifting his way. His blissful ignorance as he copied a reference from the book was enviable.
“There!” He smiled widely and wasted no time tossing it into the crackling embers.
All heads leaned in for a closer look; some with more curious eyes than others. The paper danced briefly in the heat, giving one last twist before the edges started to burn.
Without a sound of warning, the once small sears of paper jumped into a sizable flame. It flickered and swayed like it had enough fuel for days, and it could if Zizhen’s celebration fed it.
“It’s working!” Zizhen cheered, already flipping back through the pages.
Jin Ling rocked back on the heels of his boots. He didn’t expect much. He really didn’t expect anything. Seeing the incantation do anything more than incinerate was surprising, and unsettling…
“Okay!” Zizhen’s voice cut through the silent focus of the group. “If this is right, the flame will change colour depending on the demon’s demands.”
Jin Ling’s mouth twisted in reaction to the sour idea, but he wasn’t the only one.
“A demon’s demands? Even though this probably isn’t more than some trick with low levels of spiritual energy, we shouldn’t do anything that would be adhering to demons.” Sizhui’s voice of reason was proud and commendable once more. He was the clear air that Jin Ling could drink.
Before sense had time to settle and grow, the flame was the first to turn green.
Jingyi hopped in place, allowing his enthusiasm to take control. “What does green mean? What does it mean!” His question switched to a demand as his hand grabbed Zizhen’s shoulder.
“That one is… um…” Zizhen’s eyes snapped across the page, retracing the steps more than progressing forward. “I think it’s saying something about wanting a display of disgust.”
“What a weird first request.” Jingyi laughed, clapping Zizhen on the back. “But if that’s what it wants…” His words died down, taken into by the press of his cheeks and his lips pursed with them.
Jin Ling saw what Jingyi was aiming for without needing to think, but seeing the line of spit shoot directly into the brazier was entirely different.
“Do you not think before you do anything!” Jin Ling cursed, taking a step back to avoid just the sight of it. Only the calm palm between his shoulderblades kept him from leaving entirely. “This isn’t going to work! You’re just doing this for a joke-!”
Jin Ling hated biting his tongue, and he hated it more when it was due to Jingyi proving himself right.
The flame snapped and twirled, changing its colour from green to blue.
“That did it!” Zizhen gasped, head turning to Jingyi for the next part. “Blue is sorrow. Do you think you can cry?”
Jingyi waved his hand at the wrist and buzzed his lips. He didn’t even need to speak to declare it as child’s play.
The wisp of reconsideration Jin Ling ignored reared up again.
He was sure nothing contained in the books was harmful. What was being followed could only be a gimmick, a clever trick at most. The colour change had to be triggered by temperature, or timed out to pace the ‘requests’.
“Lan Yuan,” Jin Ling whispered, tilting his head towards the eerily silent Sizhui. “You don’t sense anything from this, do you?”
Turning his attention away from Jingyi’s fake tears, Sizhui rolled his bottom lip into his mouth. He hummed on the question, leaving Jin Ling hanging uncomfortably long. “I…” He breathed, his eyes betraying his focus to look back at the fire for the briefest moment. “I don’t think so.”
As if to prove them wrong, the next colour shifted again; a bright, assaulting, pink.
“Passion!” Zizhen’s cheerful grin was inappropriate. He brushed over all the concerns in the world for some game, and felt so proud of himself.
Jingyi snapped his fingers - he was just as proud, but even more troublesome. “You two haven’t helped yet so do this one!” The exuberance in his voice had the ability to crack stone. His brow wiggle crudely and his mouth stayed far too wide. “Kiss!”
Tension packed itself tighter in Jin Ling’s chest. The demand was ludicrous, said by an insolent tongue. “And I’ll have no part in this game!” Thoughts and words blurred in Jin Ling’s mind. What had been said and what he kept to himself was disturbingly unclear.
What was real, what Jin Ling knew for certain, was the curl of Sizhui’s fingers. It was taken as the sign they were unanimous on the decision. Sizhui certainly wouldn’t lower himself to do something so personal and intimate all for entertainment, and certainly not in front of an uncivil audience.
“A-Yi…” Sizhui’s voice tilted, flowed down, and melted. His hand stayed on Jin Ling’s back, but it hesitated; it shook. “That isn’t something you can tell someone to do, and I would never force Ling-ge into something he didn’t want.”
Jin Ling’s stomach cramped. The way Sizhui spoke wasn’t right. It wasn’t that Jin Ling didn’t want to be kissed by Sizhui. Out of all the people that were frequent in his life, Sizhui was the least he would be upset about. That would be unless his jiujiu would start kissing the top of his head as he did when Jin Ling was still hip height.
In fact, if Sizhui did kiss him, it would be a casual topic Jin Ling would be able to boast about for those who still had the nerve to call him and his behaviour ‘abhorrent’. If the top ranking cultivator by looks of their generation had gone and given him a favour such as a kiss, any future argument against him would be shut down immediately.
The flame with its sickening pink colour snapped, like it could feel the ache of hunger.
Time intervals weren’t at play - the colour lasted too long.
“It’s not that bad, Sizhui!” With his big mouth and flippant attitude, Jingyi just shrugged. He looked far too calm. “A kiss on the cheek wouldn’t be that bad, would it? I can even turn around if you’re self-conscious."
A tug burned hot around the front of Jin Ling’s chest. His gaze whipped over to Sizhui, feeling the pressure of Sizhui’s grip grow. It was too tight to be the sting of peer pressure, more like, gaining the absence of control.
Sizhui’s mouth formed a stern flat line. There was more concentration hiding away in his features than during their game of weiqi. “Game or not, we shouldn’t joke with anything that claims to be connected to demons. I won’t participate.” Sizhui cut each word with the sharp edge of his tongue, firing them off with precision.
Jin Ling eyed the fire once more. The eerie sway hadn’t slowed, it had gotten quicker. Fed only with a few blank talisman papers, it had plumed up, growing taller, and taller.
The heat licked up Jin Ling’s face, twisting and tangling the web of apprehension that sat in his gut. The flame hadn’t dulled, hadn’t changed. In the light, at the center of the inferno, it waited for him.
It called.
With teeth, and anger. It pressed harder than Sizhui’s hand. A presence, a being, a neglected thought that wanted him to acknowledge it, to see it. It wasn’t real until he saw it, felt it, so it could stare right back.
And blink.
Smoke swirled as a sudden crackle and hiss left the heating brazier empty. The talisman paper burned entirely to ash, leaving the vibrant fire with nothing left to use, and all at once it died out with a near huff.
Turning, book still tight in his grip, Zizhen squinted at the remains. “Huh…” The single breath dropped with a heavier weight than was necessary. He flipped back and forth between four pages, a single finger running across lines of text as he quietly mumbled to himself.
“Is it over?” Jingyi whined, effectively kicking at the ground. “That was short lived.”
Sizhui was the first to sigh. “This was likely the best ending.” His hand finally fell, leaving Jin Ling without a resonating pulse to ground himself to. “It’s best not to dabble into something we don’t fully understand. If we had actually summoned something into Koi Tower even by mistake, the consequences would’ve haunted us. Right, Ling-ge?”
A sharp inhale jumped down to the pit of Jin Ling’s stomach. His muscles felt tight, almost exhausted as he remained standing still, gaze lingering a moment too long where the fire had been. The colours that it had flashed through throbbed inside his head, as did the feeling of dread he couldn’t shake.
“Of course!” Jin Ling’s voice accelerated from nothing to slice through the dampened atmosphere. His arms swung in front to cross over his chest. “No one brings danger to Lanling under my watch! Zizhen!”
The thunder rumbling in Jin Ling’s chest snapped Zizhen out of his dazed reading. His brow was knitted together, carrying a sense of worry that Jin Ling didn’t want to think about.
It was just a clever trick.
“Give me that book. I’m personally locking it away so no one gets a similar idea like this.” He held out his hand expectantly, not allowing a single question. It was his property after all. Every book standing on the steps in the gentle spring wind was considered to be his, there was nothing that wasn’t under his control around them.
Feeling the weight of the old parchment in his hand settled a smirk across Jin Ling’s face. “There,” He breathed, a sense of contentment sinking in. “Now put this back where you got it from.” Gesturing with a sweep of his arm, he aimed right for Jingyi. The Lan was the one who dragged it out after all.
He survived the teasing sneer as Jingyi began pushing the heating brazier back into the storeroom, making it a particularly good time to turn back to Sizhui. The controlled smile akin to comforting words was back on his face, glowing softly at the edges.
“Let’s eat early.” Jin Ling savoured the subtle raise of Sizhui’s brow. No argument or question, just a silent ask to hear more. “And I’ll say Jingyi and Zizhen are done with their manual labour. At least until one of them loses another bet.”
Sizhui's smile grew the smallest bit brighter, a degree most would miss, but not Jin Ling. “I will be there to help oversee their loss when it happens.”
The tension once gripping tight inside Jin Ling lessened. It was childish to lift up by his toes, a self-satisfied reaction he didn’t need, but when only Sizhui saw it, he allowed it. The moment was comfortable, easy, and no interruptions big or small would take away from the day Jin Ling had meticulously arranged.
Not even the strange restlessness behind his eyes.