500 years of solitude [2/?]
Title: 500 years of solitude [2/?]
Author clubotaku
Pairing: Kris/Luhan with minor Sehun/Luhan, Lay/Luhan
Characters: EXO-M with mentions of Hangeng, Victoria and others
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance, Supernatural, Historical Au!
Summary: After 500 years of collecting hearts, a fox spirit will be able to go to Heaven.
A/N: Thank you to those who commented, sorry for the wait :)
臥龍躍馬終黃土
Zhuge Liang and The White Emperor both ended in yellow dirt;
人事音書漫寂寥
Waiting for news of worldly affairs brings me useless grief.
Du Fu杜甫- Night in the Pavilion閣夜
Wufan remembers what it was like to be human, to not have this horrible feeling of want, of bloodlust. Remembers lying there in a ditch, lungs burning as he tried to cough out the blood that seemed to leak from every part of his body, tried not to look at the arrows embedded in his leg. He remembers his father shouting at him to jump on the wagon, his mother reaching out for him inside as he reached out a hand, only to fall as the arrows struck. The sky was red with fire and the ground was red with blood. It seems weird to him now, after so long, to remember so much. The soldiers who kicked him as he fell and as he lay there, trying to defend himself. And once they were gone, leaving him gasping for precious air, the shadow that fell over his aching body; the man that stared at him with eyes that spoke of sadness. Save me, he had begged, I must find my family. The man walked away but Wufan used his hands to drag his body after him, one eye black and his nose bruised, the blood started to flow again at his movement. Please, save me. Wufan screws his eyes shut, as if to block out the memory of the moment that has haunted him these past centuries. Even if I help you, the man had said, his voice husky, I wouldn’t say it’s a life worth living. From where he lay, squinting up at the man, Wufan could see he was beautiful, fairy-like. Full lips, high cheekbones, heavy-lidded eyes and strangely enough, hair the colour of corn that stood out against the horrid sky. Please, Wufan tried again, Save me. Anything… I’ll do anything, he had managed to choke out. An eternity seemed to pass for him as his strength dwindled, the life slipping out of him, as he tried desperately to grab the stranger’s brown robes. Ok, breathed the stranger, sounding like the wind whistling through the trees, but don’t regret this. Wufan’s heart beat faster and he gazed up, hopeful as the man came closer, cupping his face in his hands. Their faces were so close he could see the flecks of gold in the man’s eyes, eyes that flashed amber and teeth that suddenly seemed pointed. You’re so beautiful, he’d eked out, and the man smiled as if he heard this all the time. You will be beautiful too, he’d said and before Wufan could attempt to reply, kissed him. Wufan refuses to sink into the ever nagging feelings of regret that plagued others of his kind and stares balefully at the heavens. Down the hill at the mansion, a boy is sneaking more food out, large eyes darting from side to side as he slides back through the hole and the bricks are replaced. Wufan rips the leg off his rabbit, chewing pensively before he heads down for his nightly meal.
They watch, fascinated as the blood pours into the bubbling pot, the sickening smell of iron and sulphur filling the hut. Sehun gags and grips Luhan’s sleeve, before loosening his hold a bit. The elder boy smiles reassuringly and the grip tightens again.
“Hyung, no, Ge, it stinks.”
Yixing is very still from where he’s slumped on Luhan’s other side, so still that Xiumin suspects he’s passed out from the stench. Dried chicken feet drop into the pot with a disgusting squelch and Chen sprinkles some ground beetle wings for good measure, before adding in a lot of alcohol. His chanting grows to a crescendo before finally he stops, taking a ladle out to scoop some into an earthen cup, passing it to Xiumin who looks at it suspiciously.
“Are you sure this works?”
Chen puffs up, offended. He is a shaman-in-training, and has been diligently studying this for all of three months.
“I’ve been an apprentice for three years!” he says, indignant.
“I thought it was three mon-”
“Years!”
Sehun and Luhan snigger and Chen gives them an evil glare from where he’s currently whacking Xiumin with his horse-hair whip.
“Yah, you spoilt brat! You’re doomed to unrequited love!”
Sehun gasps.
“And you,美女pretty girl, you’re doomed to become even more girly!”
Yixing bursts into laughter, rolling around on the dirt floor. Xiumin is still eyeing the mixture with a look of both hope and dread on his chubby face. His black hair sticks out from every angle above his head, white dustings of mantou flour on the tips.
“Are you sure this will work?”
“Have I ever been wrong? Has anything I’ve ever brewed given any of you constipation?”
They all take a moment to think about this and then Luhan grins.
“No… But it did give Kuixian piles.”
Sehun’s never seen Yixing laugh-or move-so much as he has now, crying in laughter on Luhan who is now fending off the whip.
“And you wonder why that horse hates you,” says Xiumin, “And isn’t that whip ornamental only or for your mumbo jumbo ceremonies?”
“DRINK THE DAMN TONIC!” screeches Chen, causing the chickens in the yard to scatter. Xiumin downs it, and then sticks his tongue out.
“Hmm,” says Chen, scratching his hairless chin, “You’ll have a fateful encounter today.”
Instantly the other boy’s demeanor changes, eyes wide as he stops gagging.
“Do I bump into her? Will I finally get a chance to talk to Lord Li’s daughter?”
“I think if you give her some of your baozi she’ll fall for you, they’re delicious Xiumin hyung,” says Sehun earnestly. Luhan ruffles his hair affectionately and the boy’s eyes crinkle up with joy.
“I can’t tell you details, I need more time and training!” huffs Chen, “Too many things happening in the spirit world at the moment. I’m very busy sorting through the different deities passing through here or helping lost souls to tell you whom you’re bumping into.”
“What deities and spirits?”
Chen looks a little lost at the herbalist’s question, but quickly regains composure.
“Well you know… A few lost ghosts, the usual; I felt a presence that may have been the Dragon King of the River… A panda spirit passing through…. Yeah…”
Xiumin stares.
“A panda spirit.”
“Yes!” snaps Chen, “A bit, fat, panda spirit named Po! Now don’t you have buns to bake and encounters to encounter?” He turns to Sehun who blinks, nibbling his lower lip.
“And you, don’t you have some ambassadorial lessons or whatever it is you’re supposed to be growing into?”
“Um”
“And you two lazy worms go back to annoying Hangeng-Ge or running through the woods like wild deer.”
Sehun shakes his head.
“Haven’t you heard something is killing the cattle? It could be a bear, or a tiger! It’s not safe to venture outside…”
“Yeah,” says Luhan, tongue poking out from the side of his mouth, “Haven’t the spirits told you anything? Or do you need Yixing and I to help you make some special brew?”
Chen kicks them out, throwing dried water buffalo dung at them for good measure until the sound of their laughter fades away. Xiumin is making funny faces at Yixing, and Sehun is practically skipping as he holds Luhan’s hand, their lavish silk robes in complete contrast to the other two. A sudden chill makes him shiver, but the feeling passes as soon as it came and Chen shrugs, picking up the broom to clean up the mess before the Shaman returns.
As they reach the main intersection, Xiumin bids them goodbye, rushing off to prepare for the evening rush. Dust rises beneath hooves and wheels that pass, traders calling out to potential customers and a little further down, the red lanterns of the pleasure district beginning to glow. As they walk towards Yixing’s shop, Luhan drags his feet, hands tugging at the hem of his shirt.
“What are you thinking of?”
“I was hoping Chenchen could give us a little more insight on this mysterious beast… Guess he’s not so in tune with the spirit world after all.”
Yixing smiles.
“He made contact with a panda named Po.” Luhan scoffs, shoving Yixing playfully.
“I wonder what a panda spirit would be like,” says Sehun, before realizing he spoke in Korean, translating it into Mandarin.
“A crybaby,” says Yixing, now chewing on ginseng roots. The bitter taste gives him the energy boost he needs, but the aftertaste will always take time to disappear. Ugh, roots. The other two look at him curiously.
“How would you know?”
Yixing gives a noncommittal shrug, straightening the wooden sign above the doorway. He can hear the snores of the main herbalist, Zhoumi, inside, the man’s stork-like legs visible from the crack in the door.
“Those black circles must come from crying right?”
Luhan chuckles and gives him a playful shove.
“You should help Chenchen instead, what are you doing healing people? Or you could do both-sell them dodgy tonics and then give them the antidote after!”
“Unlike some people, I have morals.”
The shadows are long and spindly in the dimming light, the brown dirt taking on a yellow hue. Sehun tugs at Luhan’s hand,
“Hyung, we need to go back. It’s almost time for the engagement dinner…Songqian-noona is going to be mad.”
Luhan gulps, the image of his sister stretching him like noodles breaking his happy mood.
“Bye bye, drop by later ok?!” He speeds off, Sehun trailing behind him, one hand holding the other’s yellow sash. Yixing knows they’ll never get back in time, knows that Luhan will whine and pout until Hangeng takes sides with him against their sister, knows that tonight when he comes over Luhan will giggle about it like some maiden caught staring at soldiers. Luhan will talk about how adorable Sehun is and how pretty Songqian was, and Yixing will listen, one hand curled against his waist until Luhan kicks him off. The room will smell like expensive sandalwood incense and smoke, and Luhan will smell like grass and mud. Beneath his bed will be mud-stained clothes, and sometimes, he will be close enough to see the mud on his ankles. Close enough to gently wipe them off and listen to his sworn-brother murmur unintelligible words in slumber, before retiring to his cot across from him.
“Lost in your own world again eh?” says Zhoumi, knocking his head playfully, “You’ve got that weird smile on your face. Planning to eat someone’s tofu?”
Yixing smiles.
Luhan watches as his older brother stumbles into the courtyard, face flushed.
“Too much wine ge?”
Hangeng shakes his head, one hand coming up to rake its way through the dark strands. The ducks squawk as he narrowly misses kicking one, mumbling apologies as he finally sits on an ornamental rock (their mother said it was feng shui related).
“Walked in on mother and Songqian talking about making ‘clouds and rain’; I really didn’t need to know just why she’s been practicing certain qigong exercises. Not even two gourds of red lizard alcohol is going to wash away these mental images.”
Luhan snickers, totally unsympathetic.
“If you want, I can send a message for Yixing to bring you his new, extra-tasty snake wine. Chenchen can probably add in some herbs and chant some mumbo jumbo to make you forget.”
“It was good until you mentioned Chen,” Hangeng says, a little more sober now, “The day he becomes a full shaman is the day I dance naked on the Great Wall.”
Luhan giggles, lying back so he’s flat against the ground, staring at the sky. Fingers pulling the tips of the grass, half-heartedly throwing them at his brother, who watches as they fall sadly to his feet.
“It’s almost winter-your coming of age ceremony is coming up. In a few weeks Songqian will leave our home… How time flies.” Hangeng sighs, watching the ducks.
“Can you help me practice my archery ge?” asks Luhan, attention back at the thought of the ceremony, “I want to bring back something good.”
Another sigh.
“Sorry Xiao Di, I’m busy training the troops and tracking down this mysterious beast. Not to mention all the politics and match making schemes Father is busy concocting.” Hangeng scowls at the thought.
“When will you ever get married ge? Songqian-jie is younger than you and she’s getting married!”
Hangeng shrugs, tapping his fan against his chin thoughtfully.
“Defending the city, practicing martial arts… I have no time for marriage at the moment.”
“You have time for Lord Siyuan but not me?” says Luhan, eyes teasing, “No time for pretty girls? No urge to show your martial prowess and sweaty body?”
Luhan yelps as he’s pelted with rocks, choosing to retaliate by pushing his brother into the pond, where they wrestle, throwing mud and lotus pads at each other. When Hangeng manages to pin Luhan down-the younger was as slippery as a paddy eel, seriously-they’re both mud-stained, wet, and Luhan sports a lotus petals in his hair.
“Lord Siyuan,” huffs the elder, attempting to reassert his seniority (Luhan’s giggles have started again), “Is a prominent political figure not only in this city, but through China. His martial prowess with the sword is well-known through all the provinces and he plays a mean game of weiqi. I happen to enjoy comparing our skills since the company around here is clearly lacking.”
Luhan pouts, struggling weakly, but settles for spitting water at his brother.
“You, my dear deer, should focus on your ceremony and trying not to look so pretty. Really Luhan, flowers in your hair? I’m surprised you haven’t been spirited away yet.”
Only now does Luhan realize the petals adorning his head and he shrieks, pushing his brother off as the other laughs at his futile attempts to separate the mud-stuck petals.
“You’re like a fairy maiden,” gasps Hangeng, holding his stomach as he tries simultaneously to breathe and pull himself out of the water, “The fairy mud maiden of the pond.”
Luhan settles for kicking him back into the pond.
The rabbit struggles once more, hind legs kicking feebly as its blood seeps out, onto the grass and Wufan’s tongue. While its’ life fades, he feels his energy returning, the sound of a heartbeat slowing, slowing, silence. The taste of iron both excites and sickens him, the feeling of his teeth and claws tearing through flesh both euphoric and yet, disgusting. The memory of being human creeps back and the animal in him pushes it out instantly. The number of guard patrols has increased during the day making it harder to hunt, but at night none are brave enough to venture out of the reach of the city lights, into the forest. His forest. Soon, he thinks, soon that boy will bring me my meal. He snorts, thinking of the young Lord’s terrible marksmanship. At the rate he was going, he’d starve without help in the wild. The wind laughed along with him as he rolled in the willows, harsh barks startling birds. In a flash one was between his jaws and the crack as its neck snapped made him shiver in pleasure. Dragging his kill to the edge of the hill he eats, watching, waiting, for that boy to appear.
Luhan squirms under Yixing’s raised eyebrow as the other is lead into his room, a tray bearing some home-made brew atop his arms. Yixing bows respectfully to Luhan as the maid leaves the room; throws a pillow at him once she’s gone.
“Where have you dragged yourself through today? You smell like pond-weed and mud.” His nose wrinkles from the offending smell, watches as Luhan sniffs himself curiously.
“Is it really that bad?” Yixing nods, pointing at the washbowl on his desk. Luhan grins and Yixing realizes too late, before a wet body tackles him to the ground.
“You scream like a girl,” Luhan cackles, fingers nimble as they attack his sides.
“At least I don’t get mistaken for one,” retorts Yixing, blowing air into his ears, satisfaction clear as Luhan squeals, slapping his chest. Using his free hand he dumps the water over the other, Luhan spluttering as he reaches blindly for the cloth.
“Let me help you my Lord,” Yixing smiles, saccharine, “Your delicate hands are not fit to scrub your jade-like body.”
“Yixing, you-”
Yixing stuffs tea leaves into his mouth, ignoring Luhan’s protests and tugs his shirt up and over, scrubbing his head and torso furiously. There we go, he thinks, wiping away all the mud, nice and clean.
“I already wiped myself down!” Luhan’s hair sticks out from all directions, messy from the rubdown. His body is lithe, pale in the faint light and untouched. The specks on mud stick out, dirty stains that Yixing sets about removing, Luhan still as the other wipes him down, this time more gently.
“Your nose is too sensitive, really.”
Yixing puts the cloth back in the empty bowl, sets it back on the desk, one hand wiping their lacquered surface unconsciously as he notices dust.
“You were feeding your pet again?”
Luhan looks guilty, caught, and Yixing’s insides tighten and unclench when he nods.
“It seems to be more hungry… I think food is getting scarce now winter approaches. Hangeng-ge is too busy to help my archery,” he says, walking over to pour two cups of tea, Yixing for Luhan, Longjing for Yixing.
“Should be Yixing for Yixing,” he says softly, chuckling a little at the pun, “If only you preferred red tea to green.”
Yixing sits on his cot, takes a sip, the thick fragrance clouding his thoughts. Across him, Luhan is staring into his cup, round eyes reflecting the tea, midnight hair curling on his ears and the nape of his neck.
“Hangeng-ge told me not to go into the forest so much,” he says, after Yixing pours himself another cup. Luhan is still on his first. “Apparently the kills have increased. But how else am I supposed to get good practice? I need to get used to being in the wild, hunting alone if I want to surpass ge!”
He looks at Yixing for support, eyes asking for his friend to agree.
“I think,” Yixing says after a beat, “Hangeng may be right. I’ve heard similar stories in town. You can practice during the day, in the fields. I’ll come with you.”
“You’re always busy brewing medicine and now that winter is approaching you’re going to be even busier remember? Last winter everyone was sick, I was bed-ridden for a week and Songqian was fussing over me like a mother hen. I just need more experience Xing, I want to prove I can do it.”
Luhan watches his best friend fiddle with the hem of his robe, smoothens the creases, fiddling more.
“It’s dangerous.”
“I’ll take Sehun with me.” Luhan is not giving up.
“Sehun is a child, he’s sheltered and still can’t speak enough mandarin to not be mistaken as swearing at someone,” says Yixing tiredly, “If a tiger attacked him he’d probably expect his guards to kill it for him. Or kill it with his famous stare.”
“Sehun is so cute,” says Luhan, “I just want to feed him dumplings until his cheeks are as plump as Xiumin’s.”
“Either way, try not to go into the forest and get mauled by a bear,” says Yixing, enjoying the way his head sinks into the pillow. There’s a thump and he is pushed aside as Luhan wiggles onto the bed, pillow in hand.
“I don’t see how its fair I get kicked off your bed yet you feel entitled to invade mine all the time,” says Yixing, dry, “And you call me the clean freak.”
A tongue pops out and pops back in, Luhan’s face so close he can smell the red tea lingering on his breath.
“Ge said it’s not a bear remember?” Luhan’s selective hearing is back.
“Bear, tiger, wolf, whatever, something is out there killing the cattle and you shouldn’t be trying to kill it.”
“It’s not normal, that’s for sure.”
“Stop thinking of how to hunt it down,” says Yixing, watching the gears turn in his best friend’s overactive mind, “Or I’ll tell your Father how you broke his bowstring.”
“You were part of that too!” For now Yixing knows Luhan won’t do anything, but it doesn’t mean he won’t stop asking or trying. “You were the one who told me to use a better bow!”
Yixing hits him lightly on the head, Luhan poking his waist playfully before they settle.
“Come on Yixing, you must have an idea. You hang out with Chen long enough to hear supernatural theories right? What is it? Some sort of demon or cast out familiar?”
Yixing feigns sleep.
“Is it a female ghost? A hungry ghost? A Zhen bird? Yixiiiiiiiiiing, tell me!”
“Female ghosts don’t rip out hearts, hungry ghosts only come out during the Hungry Ghost Festival stupid, and Zhen birds are poisonous, not cannibalistic.”
Luhan grins, shuffling closer until his face is pressed against Yixing’s cheek, the other keeping his eyes resolutely shut.
So,” Yixing can practically hear the smugness in his voice, “You do have some idea of the supernatural. So what is it?”
“Maybe,” says Yixing, rolling over.
The bed shifts as Luhan rolls into his back, hands creeping around his waist and head.
“Maybe?”
Yixing opens one eye, squints suspiciously at Luhan whose big eyes stare back, guileless. Yixing knows better.
“I’ll tell you if you promise not to go into the forest alone.”
Luhan mulls it over for the space of two seconds, nodding happily as he pulls Yixing over, trying to get him to turn back around. The herbalist takes the opportunity to release some natural gas, Luhan flying backwards and off the cot, gagging.
“Disgusting! The Jade Emperor is probably hacking his lungs out right now!”
Yixing spreads himself like an eagle across the cot, soaking in the remnants of warmth, pulling the silk covers back over himself. A stray hand tries to sneak in and he slaps it and it retreats.
“So tell me,” says Luhan again, persistent, “I promise not to go to the forest alone.”
“I don’t know if I can trust you not to get more stupid ideas… We all know I’m the brain and you’re the not-so-brawny-brawn.”
Luhan feels magnanimous enough to ignore the jibe, wincing as Yixing slaps his hands again, pulling them out from under the cover.
“I swear as your sworn-brother not to go.”
Yixing gazes out into the garden, listens to the wind blowing the reeds. Luhan is silent, almost trembling in anticipation.
“It could be some sort of demon. Animal.”
Luhan jumps back on the bed, shoving him back to the side.
“Not good enough Xing, you’re not being fair!”
Hands descend on him like vultures, Yixing too tired to cry for help between laughter as Luhan uses his body weight to pin him down, straddling him. He doesn’t notice the widening of Yixing’s eyes, or the weakening of his movements, too focused on tickling everywhere.
“Fox spirits,” says Yixing, voice soft, “Could be a fox fairy. Huli jing.”
Luhan stops, releases him.
“Why do you say that? I thought they ate livers.”
“No… Fox spirits may get energy- or life essence- from the sun, the moon… Or as you say, livers. Now, did you know how they live a long time and the longer the live the more powerful they get?”
Luhan nods, pauses, then shakes his head, mouth open as he tries to dig up what he knows. Yixing reaches out to close his mouth, tsking.
“Well after 100 years they gain the ability to shape-shift into any form-animal, supernatural or human. After 1000 years they are granted a wish, either to leave this world and enter the Heavenly Kingdom, or to grow more powerful but remain. Good foxes eat animal livers, the evil ones eat human livers.”
“Makes sense, makes sense,” murmurs Luhan, “So why the heart?”
“The heart is the most potent life source in a living body; eating it gives you more power, increases your age and life span-you are able to get your wish granted faster. The ability to hold and keep a form becomes easier, as does the power to cast illusions and other trickery. “
“So it’s a power hungry spirit?” says Luhan, one hand playing with Yixing’s hair absentmindedly. One arm is wrapped around the other’s head, Yixing’s body curled instinctively into Luhan’s. The thought of marriage, the very possibility of them getting wives is so distant, so boring; he is alone in his thoughts as Luhan mutters about foxes and powers. Yixing snaps back, blinking as Luhan breathes into his hair, almost asleep.
“Or it’s desperate to get into Heaven.”
The night seems long, impossibly long, Wufan gnawing the last bone ‘til it cracks. Tonight’s dinner had been good since the house was celebrating-pork ribs, braised beef, steamed fish. The boy had done well, even if he stank of pondweed. Guards patrol the edge of the compound, just as he expected they would at all the outposts closest to the wild, but still within the city lights. Lanterns, he scoffed inwardly, so weak unlike my fire. The chill grew every day as autumn came to an end, animals preparing to hibernate. He needed to find more food, more energy. Are you happy up there? Wufan snarls at the sky, Away from this life? The stars twinkle, mocking him. The hunger in his belly stirs and he paces, restless. Maybe it’s time to go into town.
Notes:
What Zhoumi says-Planning to eat someone's tofu/赤塔豆腐-is a way of saying 'taking advantage of someone (usually sexually)
'Clouds and rain' or ''Mist and Rain' are terms used in Chinese poetry to describe le sex. Really.
Siyuan=Siwon
Weiqi/围棋 is Chinese chess, like Japanese Go.
Yixing 宜兴 tea is a type of red/black tea; Longjing龙井 tea or 'Dragon's Well' tea is a type of green tea
This chapter was longer than expected, aigoo
Author clubotaku
Pairing: Kris/Luhan with minor Sehun/Luhan, Lay/Luhan
Characters: EXO-M with mentions of Hangeng, Victoria and others
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance, Supernatural, Historical Au!
Summary: After 500 years of collecting hearts, a fox spirit will be able to go to Heaven.
A/N: Thank you to those who commented, sorry for the wait :)
臥龍躍馬終黃土
Zhuge Liang and The White Emperor both ended in yellow dirt;
人事音書漫寂寥
Waiting for news of worldly affairs brings me useless grief.
Du Fu杜甫- Night in the Pavilion閣夜
Wufan remembers what it was like to be human, to not have this horrible feeling of want, of bloodlust. Remembers lying there in a ditch, lungs burning as he tried to cough out the blood that seemed to leak from every part of his body, tried not to look at the arrows embedded in his leg. He remembers his father shouting at him to jump on the wagon, his mother reaching out for him inside as he reached out a hand, only to fall as the arrows struck. The sky was red with fire and the ground was red with blood. It seems weird to him now, after so long, to remember so much. The soldiers who kicked him as he fell and as he lay there, trying to defend himself. And once they were gone, leaving him gasping for precious air, the shadow that fell over his aching body; the man that stared at him with eyes that spoke of sadness. Save me, he had begged, I must find my family. The man walked away but Wufan used his hands to drag his body after him, one eye black and his nose bruised, the blood started to flow again at his movement. Please, save me. Wufan screws his eyes shut, as if to block out the memory of the moment that has haunted him these past centuries. Even if I help you, the man had said, his voice husky, I wouldn’t say it’s a life worth living. From where he lay, squinting up at the man, Wufan could see he was beautiful, fairy-like. Full lips, high cheekbones, heavy-lidded eyes and strangely enough, hair the colour of corn that stood out against the horrid sky. Please, Wufan tried again, Save me. Anything… I’ll do anything, he had managed to choke out. An eternity seemed to pass for him as his strength dwindled, the life slipping out of him, as he tried desperately to grab the stranger’s brown robes. Ok, breathed the stranger, sounding like the wind whistling through the trees, but don’t regret this. Wufan’s heart beat faster and he gazed up, hopeful as the man came closer, cupping his face in his hands. Their faces were so close he could see the flecks of gold in the man’s eyes, eyes that flashed amber and teeth that suddenly seemed pointed. You’re so beautiful, he’d eked out, and the man smiled as if he heard this all the time. You will be beautiful too, he’d said and before Wufan could attempt to reply, kissed him. Wufan refuses to sink into the ever nagging feelings of regret that plagued others of his kind and stares balefully at the heavens. Down the hill at the mansion, a boy is sneaking more food out, large eyes darting from side to side as he slides back through the hole and the bricks are replaced. Wufan rips the leg off his rabbit, chewing pensively before he heads down for his nightly meal.
They watch, fascinated as the blood pours into the bubbling pot, the sickening smell of iron and sulphur filling the hut. Sehun gags and grips Luhan’s sleeve, before loosening his hold a bit. The elder boy smiles reassuringly and the grip tightens again.
“Hyung, no, Ge, it stinks.”
Yixing is very still from where he’s slumped on Luhan’s other side, so still that Xiumin suspects he’s passed out from the stench. Dried chicken feet drop into the pot with a disgusting squelch and Chen sprinkles some ground beetle wings for good measure, before adding in a lot of alcohol. His chanting grows to a crescendo before finally he stops, taking a ladle out to scoop some into an earthen cup, passing it to Xiumin who looks at it suspiciously.
“Are you sure this works?”
Chen puffs up, offended. He is a shaman-in-training, and has been diligently studying this for all of three months.
“I’ve been an apprentice for three years!” he says, indignant.
“I thought it was three mon-”
“Years!”
Sehun and Luhan snigger and Chen gives them an evil glare from where he’s currently whacking Xiumin with his horse-hair whip.
“Yah, you spoilt brat! You’re doomed to unrequited love!”
Sehun gasps.
“And you,美女pretty girl, you’re doomed to become even more girly!”
Yixing bursts into laughter, rolling around on the dirt floor. Xiumin is still eyeing the mixture with a look of both hope and dread on his chubby face. His black hair sticks out from every angle above his head, white dustings of mantou flour on the tips.
“Are you sure this will work?”
“Have I ever been wrong? Has anything I’ve ever brewed given any of you constipation?”
They all take a moment to think about this and then Luhan grins.
“No… But it did give Kuixian piles.”
Sehun’s never seen Yixing laugh-or move-so much as he has now, crying in laughter on Luhan who is now fending off the whip.
“And you wonder why that horse hates you,” says Xiumin, “And isn’t that whip ornamental only or for your mumbo jumbo ceremonies?”
“DRINK THE DAMN TONIC!” screeches Chen, causing the chickens in the yard to scatter. Xiumin downs it, and then sticks his tongue out.
“Hmm,” says Chen, scratching his hairless chin, “You’ll have a fateful encounter today.”
Instantly the other boy’s demeanor changes, eyes wide as he stops gagging.
“Do I bump into her? Will I finally get a chance to talk to Lord Li’s daughter?”
“I think if you give her some of your baozi she’ll fall for you, they’re delicious Xiumin hyung,” says Sehun earnestly. Luhan ruffles his hair affectionately and the boy’s eyes crinkle up with joy.
“I can’t tell you details, I need more time and training!” huffs Chen, “Too many things happening in the spirit world at the moment. I’m very busy sorting through the different deities passing through here or helping lost souls to tell you whom you’re bumping into.”
“What deities and spirits?”
Chen looks a little lost at the herbalist’s question, but quickly regains composure.
“Well you know… A few lost ghosts, the usual; I felt a presence that may have been the Dragon King of the River… A panda spirit passing through…. Yeah…”
Xiumin stares.
“A panda spirit.”
“Yes!” snaps Chen, “A bit, fat, panda spirit named Po! Now don’t you have buns to bake and encounters to encounter?” He turns to Sehun who blinks, nibbling his lower lip.
“And you, don’t you have some ambassadorial lessons or whatever it is you’re supposed to be growing into?”
“Um”
“And you two lazy worms go back to annoying Hangeng-Ge or running through the woods like wild deer.”
Sehun shakes his head.
“Haven’t you heard something is killing the cattle? It could be a bear, or a tiger! It’s not safe to venture outside…”
“Yeah,” says Luhan, tongue poking out from the side of his mouth, “Haven’t the spirits told you anything? Or do you need Yixing and I to help you make some special brew?”
Chen kicks them out, throwing dried water buffalo dung at them for good measure until the sound of their laughter fades away. Xiumin is making funny faces at Yixing, and Sehun is practically skipping as he holds Luhan’s hand, their lavish silk robes in complete contrast to the other two. A sudden chill makes him shiver, but the feeling passes as soon as it came and Chen shrugs, picking up the broom to clean up the mess before the Shaman returns.
As they reach the main intersection, Xiumin bids them goodbye, rushing off to prepare for the evening rush. Dust rises beneath hooves and wheels that pass, traders calling out to potential customers and a little further down, the red lanterns of the pleasure district beginning to glow. As they walk towards Yixing’s shop, Luhan drags his feet, hands tugging at the hem of his shirt.
“What are you thinking of?”
“I was hoping Chenchen could give us a little more insight on this mysterious beast… Guess he’s not so in tune with the spirit world after all.”
Yixing smiles.
“He made contact with a panda named Po.” Luhan scoffs, shoving Yixing playfully.
“I wonder what a panda spirit would be like,” says Sehun, before realizing he spoke in Korean, translating it into Mandarin.
“A crybaby,” says Yixing, now chewing on ginseng roots. The bitter taste gives him the energy boost he needs, but the aftertaste will always take time to disappear. Ugh, roots. The other two look at him curiously.
“How would you know?”
Yixing gives a noncommittal shrug, straightening the wooden sign above the doorway. He can hear the snores of the main herbalist, Zhoumi, inside, the man’s stork-like legs visible from the crack in the door.
“Those black circles must come from crying right?”
Luhan chuckles and gives him a playful shove.
“You should help Chenchen instead, what are you doing healing people? Or you could do both-sell them dodgy tonics and then give them the antidote after!”
“Unlike some people, I have morals.”
The shadows are long and spindly in the dimming light, the brown dirt taking on a yellow hue. Sehun tugs at Luhan’s hand,
“Hyung, we need to go back. It’s almost time for the engagement dinner…Songqian-noona is going to be mad.”
Luhan gulps, the image of his sister stretching him like noodles breaking his happy mood.
“Bye bye, drop by later ok?!” He speeds off, Sehun trailing behind him, one hand holding the other’s yellow sash. Yixing knows they’ll never get back in time, knows that Luhan will whine and pout until Hangeng takes sides with him against their sister, knows that tonight when he comes over Luhan will giggle about it like some maiden caught staring at soldiers. Luhan will talk about how adorable Sehun is and how pretty Songqian was, and Yixing will listen, one hand curled against his waist until Luhan kicks him off. The room will smell like expensive sandalwood incense and smoke, and Luhan will smell like grass and mud. Beneath his bed will be mud-stained clothes, and sometimes, he will be close enough to see the mud on his ankles. Close enough to gently wipe them off and listen to his sworn-brother murmur unintelligible words in slumber, before retiring to his cot across from him.
“Lost in your own world again eh?” says Zhoumi, knocking his head playfully, “You’ve got that weird smile on your face. Planning to eat someone’s tofu?”
Yixing smiles.
Luhan watches as his older brother stumbles into the courtyard, face flushed.
“Too much wine ge?”
Hangeng shakes his head, one hand coming up to rake its way through the dark strands. The ducks squawk as he narrowly misses kicking one, mumbling apologies as he finally sits on an ornamental rock (their mother said it was feng shui related).
“Walked in on mother and Songqian talking about making ‘clouds and rain’; I really didn’t need to know just why she’s been practicing certain qigong exercises. Not even two gourds of red lizard alcohol is going to wash away these mental images.”
Luhan snickers, totally unsympathetic.
“If you want, I can send a message for Yixing to bring you his new, extra-tasty snake wine. Chenchen can probably add in some herbs and chant some mumbo jumbo to make you forget.”
“It was good until you mentioned Chen,” Hangeng says, a little more sober now, “The day he becomes a full shaman is the day I dance naked on the Great Wall.”
Luhan giggles, lying back so he’s flat against the ground, staring at the sky. Fingers pulling the tips of the grass, half-heartedly throwing them at his brother, who watches as they fall sadly to his feet.
“It’s almost winter-your coming of age ceremony is coming up. In a few weeks Songqian will leave our home… How time flies.” Hangeng sighs, watching the ducks.
“Can you help me practice my archery ge?” asks Luhan, attention back at the thought of the ceremony, “I want to bring back something good.”
Another sigh.
“Sorry Xiao Di, I’m busy training the troops and tracking down this mysterious beast. Not to mention all the politics and match making schemes Father is busy concocting.” Hangeng scowls at the thought.
“When will you ever get married ge? Songqian-jie is younger than you and she’s getting married!”
Hangeng shrugs, tapping his fan against his chin thoughtfully.
“Defending the city, practicing martial arts… I have no time for marriage at the moment.”
“You have time for Lord Siyuan but not me?” says Luhan, eyes teasing, “No time for pretty girls? No urge to show your martial prowess and sweaty body?”
Luhan yelps as he’s pelted with rocks, choosing to retaliate by pushing his brother into the pond, where they wrestle, throwing mud and lotus pads at each other. When Hangeng manages to pin Luhan down-the younger was as slippery as a paddy eel, seriously-they’re both mud-stained, wet, and Luhan sports a lotus petals in his hair.
“Lord Siyuan,” huffs the elder, attempting to reassert his seniority (Luhan’s giggles have started again), “Is a prominent political figure not only in this city, but through China. His martial prowess with the sword is well-known through all the provinces and he plays a mean game of weiqi. I happen to enjoy comparing our skills since the company around here is clearly lacking.”
Luhan pouts, struggling weakly, but settles for spitting water at his brother.
“You, my dear deer, should focus on your ceremony and trying not to look so pretty. Really Luhan, flowers in your hair? I’m surprised you haven’t been spirited away yet.”
Only now does Luhan realize the petals adorning his head and he shrieks, pushing his brother off as the other laughs at his futile attempts to separate the mud-stuck petals.
“You’re like a fairy maiden,” gasps Hangeng, holding his stomach as he tries simultaneously to breathe and pull himself out of the water, “The fairy mud maiden of the pond.”
Luhan settles for kicking him back into the pond.
The rabbit struggles once more, hind legs kicking feebly as its blood seeps out, onto the grass and Wufan’s tongue. While its’ life fades, he feels his energy returning, the sound of a heartbeat slowing, slowing, silence. The taste of iron both excites and sickens him, the feeling of his teeth and claws tearing through flesh both euphoric and yet, disgusting. The memory of being human creeps back and the animal in him pushes it out instantly. The number of guard patrols has increased during the day making it harder to hunt, but at night none are brave enough to venture out of the reach of the city lights, into the forest. His forest. Soon, he thinks, soon that boy will bring me my meal. He snorts, thinking of the young Lord’s terrible marksmanship. At the rate he was going, he’d starve without help in the wild. The wind laughed along with him as he rolled in the willows, harsh barks startling birds. In a flash one was between his jaws and the crack as its neck snapped made him shiver in pleasure. Dragging his kill to the edge of the hill he eats, watching, waiting, for that boy to appear.
Luhan squirms under Yixing’s raised eyebrow as the other is lead into his room, a tray bearing some home-made brew atop his arms. Yixing bows respectfully to Luhan as the maid leaves the room; throws a pillow at him once she’s gone.
“Where have you dragged yourself through today? You smell like pond-weed and mud.” His nose wrinkles from the offending smell, watches as Luhan sniffs himself curiously.
“Is it really that bad?” Yixing nods, pointing at the washbowl on his desk. Luhan grins and Yixing realizes too late, before a wet body tackles him to the ground.
“You scream like a girl,” Luhan cackles, fingers nimble as they attack his sides.
“At least I don’t get mistaken for one,” retorts Yixing, blowing air into his ears, satisfaction clear as Luhan squeals, slapping his chest. Using his free hand he dumps the water over the other, Luhan spluttering as he reaches blindly for the cloth.
“Let me help you my Lord,” Yixing smiles, saccharine, “Your delicate hands are not fit to scrub your jade-like body.”
“Yixing, you-”
Yixing stuffs tea leaves into his mouth, ignoring Luhan’s protests and tugs his shirt up and over, scrubbing his head and torso furiously. There we go, he thinks, wiping away all the mud, nice and clean.
“I already wiped myself down!” Luhan’s hair sticks out from all directions, messy from the rubdown. His body is lithe, pale in the faint light and untouched. The specks on mud stick out, dirty stains that Yixing sets about removing, Luhan still as the other wipes him down, this time more gently.
“Your nose is too sensitive, really.”
Yixing puts the cloth back in the empty bowl, sets it back on the desk, one hand wiping their lacquered surface unconsciously as he notices dust.
“You were feeding your pet again?”
Luhan looks guilty, caught, and Yixing’s insides tighten and unclench when he nods.
“It seems to be more hungry… I think food is getting scarce now winter approaches. Hangeng-ge is too busy to help my archery,” he says, walking over to pour two cups of tea, Yixing for Luhan, Longjing for Yixing.
“Should be Yixing for Yixing,” he says softly, chuckling a little at the pun, “If only you preferred red tea to green.”
Yixing sits on his cot, takes a sip, the thick fragrance clouding his thoughts. Across him, Luhan is staring into his cup, round eyes reflecting the tea, midnight hair curling on his ears and the nape of his neck.
“Hangeng-ge told me not to go into the forest so much,” he says, after Yixing pours himself another cup. Luhan is still on his first. “Apparently the kills have increased. But how else am I supposed to get good practice? I need to get used to being in the wild, hunting alone if I want to surpass ge!”
He looks at Yixing for support, eyes asking for his friend to agree.
“I think,” Yixing says after a beat, “Hangeng may be right. I’ve heard similar stories in town. You can practice during the day, in the fields. I’ll come with you.”
“You’re always busy brewing medicine and now that winter is approaching you’re going to be even busier remember? Last winter everyone was sick, I was bed-ridden for a week and Songqian was fussing over me like a mother hen. I just need more experience Xing, I want to prove I can do it.”
Luhan watches his best friend fiddle with the hem of his robe, smoothens the creases, fiddling more.
“It’s dangerous.”
“I’ll take Sehun with me.” Luhan is not giving up.
“Sehun is a child, he’s sheltered and still can’t speak enough mandarin to not be mistaken as swearing at someone,” says Yixing tiredly, “If a tiger attacked him he’d probably expect his guards to kill it for him. Or kill it with his famous stare.”
“Sehun is so cute,” says Luhan, “I just want to feed him dumplings until his cheeks are as plump as Xiumin’s.”
“Either way, try not to go into the forest and get mauled by a bear,” says Yixing, enjoying the way his head sinks into the pillow. There’s a thump and he is pushed aside as Luhan wiggles onto the bed, pillow in hand.
“I don’t see how its fair I get kicked off your bed yet you feel entitled to invade mine all the time,” says Yixing, dry, “And you call me the clean freak.”
A tongue pops out and pops back in, Luhan’s face so close he can smell the red tea lingering on his breath.
“Ge said it’s not a bear remember?” Luhan’s selective hearing is back.
“Bear, tiger, wolf, whatever, something is out there killing the cattle and you shouldn’t be trying to kill it.”
“It’s not normal, that’s for sure.”
“Stop thinking of how to hunt it down,” says Yixing, watching the gears turn in his best friend’s overactive mind, “Or I’ll tell your Father how you broke his bowstring.”
“You were part of that too!” For now Yixing knows Luhan won’t do anything, but it doesn’t mean he won’t stop asking or trying. “You were the one who told me to use a better bow!”
Yixing hits him lightly on the head, Luhan poking his waist playfully before they settle.
“Come on Yixing, you must have an idea. You hang out with Chen long enough to hear supernatural theories right? What is it? Some sort of demon or cast out familiar?”
Yixing feigns sleep.
“Is it a female ghost? A hungry ghost? A Zhen bird? Yixiiiiiiiiiing, tell me!”
“Female ghosts don’t rip out hearts, hungry ghosts only come out during the Hungry Ghost Festival stupid, and Zhen birds are poisonous, not cannibalistic.”
Luhan grins, shuffling closer until his face is pressed against Yixing’s cheek, the other keeping his eyes resolutely shut.
So,” Yixing can practically hear the smugness in his voice, “You do have some idea of the supernatural. So what is it?”
“Maybe,” says Yixing, rolling over.
The bed shifts as Luhan rolls into his back, hands creeping around his waist and head.
“Maybe?”
Yixing opens one eye, squints suspiciously at Luhan whose big eyes stare back, guileless. Yixing knows better.
“I’ll tell you if you promise not to go into the forest alone.”
Luhan mulls it over for the space of two seconds, nodding happily as he pulls Yixing over, trying to get him to turn back around. The herbalist takes the opportunity to release some natural gas, Luhan flying backwards and off the cot, gagging.
“Disgusting! The Jade Emperor is probably hacking his lungs out right now!”
Yixing spreads himself like an eagle across the cot, soaking in the remnants of warmth, pulling the silk covers back over himself. A stray hand tries to sneak in and he slaps it and it retreats.
“So tell me,” says Luhan again, persistent, “I promise not to go to the forest alone.”
“I don’t know if I can trust you not to get more stupid ideas… We all know I’m the brain and you’re the not-so-brawny-brawn.”
Luhan feels magnanimous enough to ignore the jibe, wincing as Yixing slaps his hands again, pulling them out from under the cover.
“I swear as your sworn-brother not to go.”
Yixing gazes out into the garden, listens to the wind blowing the reeds. Luhan is silent, almost trembling in anticipation.
“It could be some sort of demon. Animal.”
Luhan jumps back on the bed, shoving him back to the side.
“Not good enough Xing, you’re not being fair!”
Hands descend on him like vultures, Yixing too tired to cry for help between laughter as Luhan uses his body weight to pin him down, straddling him. He doesn’t notice the widening of Yixing’s eyes, or the weakening of his movements, too focused on tickling everywhere.
“Fox spirits,” says Yixing, voice soft, “Could be a fox fairy. Huli jing.”
Luhan stops, releases him.
“Why do you say that? I thought they ate livers.”
“No… Fox spirits may get energy- or life essence- from the sun, the moon… Or as you say, livers. Now, did you know how they live a long time and the longer the live the more powerful they get?”
Luhan nods, pauses, then shakes his head, mouth open as he tries to dig up what he knows. Yixing reaches out to close his mouth, tsking.
“Well after 100 years they gain the ability to shape-shift into any form-animal, supernatural or human. After 1000 years they are granted a wish, either to leave this world and enter the Heavenly Kingdom, or to grow more powerful but remain. Good foxes eat animal livers, the evil ones eat human livers.”
“Makes sense, makes sense,” murmurs Luhan, “So why the heart?”
“The heart is the most potent life source in a living body; eating it gives you more power, increases your age and life span-you are able to get your wish granted faster. The ability to hold and keep a form becomes easier, as does the power to cast illusions and other trickery. “
“So it’s a power hungry spirit?” says Luhan, one hand playing with Yixing’s hair absentmindedly. One arm is wrapped around the other’s head, Yixing’s body curled instinctively into Luhan’s. The thought of marriage, the very possibility of them getting wives is so distant, so boring; he is alone in his thoughts as Luhan mutters about foxes and powers. Yixing snaps back, blinking as Luhan breathes into his hair, almost asleep.
“Or it’s desperate to get into Heaven.”
The night seems long, impossibly long, Wufan gnawing the last bone ‘til it cracks. Tonight’s dinner had been good since the house was celebrating-pork ribs, braised beef, steamed fish. The boy had done well, even if he stank of pondweed. Guards patrol the edge of the compound, just as he expected they would at all the outposts closest to the wild, but still within the city lights. Lanterns, he scoffed inwardly, so weak unlike my fire. The chill grew every day as autumn came to an end, animals preparing to hibernate. He needed to find more food, more energy. Are you happy up there? Wufan snarls at the sky, Away from this life? The stars twinkle, mocking him. The hunger in his belly stirs and he paces, restless. Maybe it’s time to go into town.
Notes:
What Zhoumi says-Planning to eat someone's tofu/赤塔豆腐-is a way of saying 'taking advantage of someone (usually sexually)
'Clouds and rain' or ''Mist and Rain' are terms used in Chinese poetry to describe le sex. Really.
Siyuan=Siwon
Weiqi/围棋 is Chinese chess, like Japanese Go.
Yixing 宜兴 tea is a type of red/black tea; Longjing龙井 tea or 'Dragon's Well' tea is a type of green tea
This chapter was longer than expected, aigoo