‘The stuff human dreams are made of…’ Zhao Yuanzhou thinks watching the moon slowly rise in the dead of the night, making the little twinkling stars dissolve in its beautiful glow, ‘...is the magic of the very fabric of reality,’ he lets out a sigh and gathers himself from the spot where he has spent most of the night simply watching the sky, letting the cold night breeze caress his soul in ways daylight never could. It was only at night when everything came to a pause, to a peaceful resolution, when even the most restless members of their team laid their heads to rest, letting their bodies relax, their emotions run free and wild, untainted by the restrictions of their conscious mind. For some of them, it was a real blessing and a chance to smile, breathe, explore, and chuckle in their sleep as if they were allowed to turn back into kids, carefree and light, devoid of all the problems grown-ups had to face. For others, it was the time to face the inner torment, the agony that lay suppressed by heavy waves of self-control and diligence during the waking hours of the day. Yet when the night unfolded… it all came to the surface, both the good and the bad.
Zhao Yuanzhou loved the night for it reminded him of the Wilderness, so flexible and liquid, as if made of flowing stained glass that caught the light of sunshine, birthing so many colours, and beings, and realms, and beautiful vistas. It was a place like no other… Yet, even that wondrous space could barely compare to the visions of the Dream Realm that humans produced with such effortlessness, like great magicians of the ancient lore, like demons who have lived for hundreds of thousands of years… just to wake up in the morning forgetting there was anything there, in their dreams, anything at all. Barely a whisper of the magic long gone, devoured by the bright light of the day, with a variety of chores, affairs, and all kinds of relationships already awaiting their attention. There was no place for dreaming in the human world when everyone woke up, yet in the darkness of the night, they all went deep – so deep that some of them met the gods, and goddesses, and ancient beasts who’ve seen the creation itself. So deep that they got to see the demons, and fairies, and faes lurking inside their own minds and nooks and crannies of the soul. So deep that the memories of the past started flowing forward like a river trying to reach the Ocean and finally reunite with that one Infinite Source.
He glides through the sleeping Demon Hunting Bureau feeling each and every one as if he were them sleeping, and dreaming, and hurting, and having the worst nightmares in their lives. He feels Wen Xiao lying restless in her sleep and makes a barely there movement with his fingers to add that dash of sunshine that would light up her mind, distracting from the memories of old and bringing forth the magic of the future, for it held immeasurable possibilities – for her as a goddess, for her as a woman, and a friend, and a colleague, and a truly magical being who was revered and adored by so many, including himself. As the flow of her dreams changes, now bearing a taste of tranquillity and calmness, he walks some more, merely a shadow in this realm of sleeping minds and bright beautiful souls sparkling in the darkness of the night.
For him, it was a vision like no other. For them, it was a series of quests and searches and experiences that could either heal their souls or break them further into pieces. Ying Lei’s demonic cheerfulness shines bright in the insides of Zhao Yuanzhou’s mind, the younger demon choosing to spend the night in the realm of dreams, exploring, playing, and happy like a little fox. He rarely dreamt of mountains and snows, his visions filled with smiling joyful people and dishes the likes of which he’d never tried before. Bai Jiu is sighing in his sleep, deep and heavy, adorned with memories of the past, the ones that made his heart ache and the tears appear in his eyes. Zhao Yuanzhou passes by without a sound, with only moonlight catching his ethereal visage in the passageways of his temporary home. He stops but for a moment, taking in his anguish and despair, the sadness with a taste of endlessness to it, so deep and filled with worry that it made his chest tighten, catching his breath. The secrets he was carrying were deadly, making him curl onto himself, unable to break free from the promises he made and from the promises that were made to him. Zhao Yuanzhou doesn’t pry, although he does have a few guesses of his own, but he will simply leave the boy for now, watching how everything unfolds, waiting, accepting whatever fate has in store for him, for each and every one from their little diverse team. Bai Jiu’s breath evens out, and as his mind relaxes into a peaceful slumber, with the malicious energy of nightmares curbed and taken care of, Zhao Yuanzhou lets himself smile, even if just a little bit, and moves a little further.
Somewhere in the dark, the restless mind of Pei Sijing is engulfed by torturous memories of her brother’s murder. She thinks about him during the day and she mourns him during the night, flooded by guilt, and sorrow, and regret. That little sunshine that was enough to turn the current of Wen Xiao’s dreams would be nearly useless in the tormented reality of Pei Sijing’s nightmares, that’s why Zhao Yuanzhou makes the one thing he probably should not be doing against someone’s free will, yet he’s ready to bear the consequences of this particular choice. He feels the magic gather on his fingertips, filled with light and warmth and the delicate fragrance of flowers blooming in spring, and whispers only one word, bringing his fingers to his lips.
“Accept.”
The word, however quiet, bounces off the walls until it reaches its recipient, like a wave of liquid light, splashing into the darkness of Pei Sijing’s guilt-ridden nightmares, turning them a brighter shade of grey and then continuously filling them with more and more acceptance, and light, and freedom, and ability to breathe. Despite what she has done. To live, to move, and to remember, but not the torment and the anguish, and unspeakable regret – the sunny days she spent with her younger brother when he was little, his awkwardness and smiles, the warmth that’s always been there even when she didn’t allow herself to fully feel it and accept it for what it was. Her sisterly love was stern and hidden under layers of restrictions, yet it has always been there.
He waits a few more moments feeling the darkness give way to hope and then to something else, sparkly and iridescent in the dark insides of her dreams that start turning the current of the images into a different direction, towards some other memories, much brighter, happier encounters, that would, eventually, heal her mind and soul.
Zhao Yuanzhou closes his eyes but for a mere second before entering the familiar room as if he were only a shadow, a dark feather brought in by the chilly night wind. He shouldn’t be here, but he felt he had no choice. Ignoring this pain seemed akin to killing all his relatives all over again.
The dreams that tormented Zhuo Yichen were many. They all came rushing back at him as soon as the Fish Demon’s energy was removed from his body, as if they were simply waiting, gathering on the brink of his mind in dark heavy waves like merciless vultures that would attack him in flocks as soon as he closed his eyes.
“I don’t…” he murmurs in his sleep talking either to someone or to himself, Zhao Yuanzhou couldn’t tell. He would never pry into his consciousness like that, but the emotions… Those were a different matter altogether. They were as evident and heartfelt to the Great Demon as words and glances and touches used by humans. They were just there and even if the people didn’t use them as a means of communication, or a way to ask for help, he could never simply ignore them. Not with other team members, and especially – not with him.
Zhao Yuanzhou silently enters the room, watching the space get filled with moonlight even more as if it, too, was trying to cool down the younger man’s relentless visions, filled with pain, and loneliness, and almost carnal fear that could have woken up the Great Demon even if he was, indeed, devoured by sleep. It may not be appropriate for him to be here, and even less appropriate to try and help him somehow get through it, but once Zhao Yuanzhou felt what it was like, he could no longer just ignore it. Zhuo Yichen’s dreams were made of anguish and excruciating pain, with layers upon layers, hiding even more images underneath, as if it was an exquisite painting bearing traces of dreamlike landscapes, and the more you looked at it, the more visible they got. Alas, the layers Zhuo Yichen was discovering inside of him were shades of darkness and despair, and missing all those loved ones that he, Zhao Yuanzhou, erased from the face of the mortal realm.
‘If I could I would have exchanged places with him… but I can’t,’ he thinks to himself just standing there, hugged by the moonlight, looking as ethereal as a being that came from a different realm. ‘If I could, I would have used all my years of cultivation to bring them back… but alas, that kind of magic doesn’t exist in this world,’ he walks up to the bed watching Zhuo Yichen frown, his breaths shallow and uneven as if he was fighting someone, or something, deep inside himself.
Zhao Yuanzhou takes a sit on his bed, careful not to disturb him, and touches Zhuo Yichen’s hand, feeling how freezing cold it is. He wouldn’t dare use his magic on the descendant of the Bing Yi line without his permission. Even this… was crossing too many boundaries already, but having lived for so long, he has learned that with humans you just sometimes needed to take the initiative into your own hands. They feared the unknown just as much as they feared asking for help, especially the younger and more stubborn ones, who liked to bear the responsibility for the well-being of their entire team, and maybe, even the entire world.
Zhao Yuanzhou doesn’t intrude, but he pushes a little of his dark-red energy with burning flames of abysmal blackness into the other man's body – as a warm reminder that Zhuo Yichen wasn’t alone in that horror that was making him restless, as if his worst fears have finally found their way into his conscious mind.
“Xiao Zhuo-daren,” the Great Demon calls him softly, knowing that the next best thing after magic was the familiarity of human touch and the warmth of someone else's presence. Even if it meant, most certainly, hearing a broody lecture about wandering around other people’s rooms and doing goddess knows what to them in their sleep. The freezing hand under Zhao Yuanzhou’s palm twitches a little as if the other man could actually hear him, but when Zhuo Yichen opens his eyes they are filled with bright bluish light Zhao Yuanzhou didn’t expect to see on him, at least, not so soon.
Zhuo Yichen blinks, the clutches of the dream still holding him by the throat and by the heart, sending cold shivers all over his body. He shudders, feeling a touch that wasn’t familiar but wasn’t hostile either. He could recognize Zhao Yuanzhou’s energy even without the sword – its presence was always palpable, ranging from a barely there trickle of force that seemed almost playful - to an overwhelming presence that devoured the whole space the Great Demon was in. Zhuo Yichen knew the others didn’t feel him this way, even Wen Xiao, being a Goddess, would sometimes miss his inaudible steps or his barely-there presence that he knew how to hide so well. Not from Zhuo Yichen, though.
His own force, that Bing Yi power that Zhao Yuanzhou was teaching him how to use, reacted to the malicious energy inside of Zhao Yuanzhou immediately, like a beacon lighting up in the ocean of darkness. They weren’t hostile to each other, but they were so different in their nature that the interaction of such powers seemed to be as unlikely as water dancing with fire.
But this fire, dark and forever-moving, was now carefully warming him up from within, intruding ever so lightly, loosening that tight grip on his heart and the insides of his body that wasn’t letting him take a full breath of air. And once he does, it comes out with a sob, which should have made things instantly embarrassing, but for some reason, it doesn’t.
Zhuo Yichen feels the sharp freezing energy step aside as if acknowledging that it has gone too far. He was fighting inside his own dream – with himself or something else entirely, it was hard to tell. And he was failing miserably, losing each and every time, when the force would take over, cold and prickly, numbing his senses, his mind, and even his consciousness to the point that he was no longer himself. He would then see images of himself killing his brother, drawing the Cloud Light Sword through his heart, and watching him slowly bleed on the floor of this very same room, his own face indifferent and lifeless. He would see himself hurting Wen Xiao, and Bai Jiu, and Pei Sijing, and even Ying Lei, who was a demon and a demi-god and could have probably protected himself. Yet Zhuo Yichen was killing them one by one in different ways that were getting worse with each nightmare he had. The only being he couldn’t kill, not even in his dreams, was the Great Demon Zhu Yan who appeared in his darkest form, red-eyed and frighteningly beautiful in the dancing black fire with pomegranate splashes and abysmally dark swirls of energy that tried to devour him, but never could. And as much as he wanted to fight it, as much as he wanted to hate it, he would just stand there, a sword in his hand, unable to move, and just feel that freezing bright power slowly fill him up to the brim until there was no Zhuo Yichen left, none at all.
“Xiao Zhuo-daren, you’re safe now,” he hears a familiar voice once again and the touch becomes almost burning-hot, making him frown, but also making that force take a step back, and then one more, and then some, until his eyes stopped glowing a bright icy blue, with his breath coming in small misty clouds as if it was winter inside his room.
‘I don’t… want this,’ he thinks, and he must have thought it loud enough because the look Zhao Yuanzhou gives him is calm and compassionate. A stark contrast to the being he saw in his dreams, the one who destroyed his family and crushed his heart, with a look so indifferent as if that barely mattered in the greater scope of things. The Great Demon in front of him seems different, so much so that he looks almost like a different person.
“Don’t you…” he wants to say ‘have anything better to do?’ and quite grumpily at that, but remembers half-way that it was Zhao Yuanzhou who brought him back from that horrid dream, one of the many ones he has had lately. The hand covering his own moves away, and there’s a playful glint in Zhao Yuanzhou’s eyes, as if this all wasn’t serious and him creeping into Zhuo Yichen’s room in the middle of the night was no big deal, none at all.
“I felt a commotion. And I couldn’t ignore it,” he says cryptically, not trying to get up or move away. Zhuo Yichen raises himself into a half-sitting position, still feeling slightly dizzy from the dream, looking at his hands as if afraid to see them covered in blood – just like there, in the depths of his nightmares. His heart is still racing from the whole thing but he can barely register it, the presence of the Great Demon calming him down. Back then, many moons ago, his brother would sit with him through his nightmares after he woke up trembling, unable to cope with the sheer force of them, so life-like, so real. Was Zhao Yuanzhou playing some kind of trick on him?
“Do you creep into everyone’s rooms like this? I can’t be the only one having… bad dreams,” he says this just to say something, really, his mind still a little numb and his heartbeat running wild. He takes in a few shaky breaths, feeling Zhao Yuanzhou watch him, moonlight covering him with silver from head to toe, making the other man look like he’s not even here, he was so ethereal. Yet his presence was felt even without the touch. And the darkness Zhuo Yichen saw in the dream was now feeling more like a warm blanket than an actively evil force he should fight with all his might. Zhao Yuanzhou was making it hard to hate him, not when he was being so… kind.
“I wouldn’t dare. How shameless do you think I am?” Zhao Yuanzhou asks, his lips curling into a barely there smile, eyes sparkling joyfully. He was by no means a cheerful man, but those little playful glimpses transformed him, making him look more human than ever.
“This shameless, apparently,” Zhuo Yichen mumbles, suddenly feeling a little underdressed to receive such a late-night demonic visitor. As if reading his mind, Zhao Yuanzhou looks him over, noticing everything from the slightly tousled hair to bitten lips and the only thin underlayer of clothing that is covering him up. Not to mention the blanket, of course, but he kicked it away in his tormented sleep. Zhuo Yichen doesn’t look away, though, enduring a pang of embarrassment that came seemingly out of nowhere.
Zhao Yuanzhou could put anyone to shame, looking impeccable even in the middle of the night when all normal people were dreaming their weird little dreams. But not demons, apparently. His robes are a dark navy-blue colour bordering on black, with embroidery that catches the moonlight, gently sparkling like stardust. The silver in his long hair is glowing a little, too, as if the light of the moon just couldn’t let him be, caressing and gliding all over his body.
Zhuo Yichen blinks slowly, wondering, whether old demons could use some kind of magic to look so stunning, or it was just something that happened naturally with the passage of time. The sparkle in Zhao Yuanzhou’s eyes becomes almost unbearable, reeking of mischief. He leans in just a little, but close enough for Zhuo Yichen to catch a barely-there whiff of herbs and dried flowers with a hint of some delicate oil reminiscent of warm summer nights and sweet-smelling petals dancing in the air. He was… quite a sight to behold.
“Xiao Zhuo-daren, let me do this for you,” Zhao Yuanzhou says, his eyes darting to Zhuo Yichen’s mouth and slowly back up, until he looks into the other man’s eyes again, gaze sparkling like precious gems. Zhuo Yichen feels his eyes go wide, with a treacherous blush coming up his face. Now his heart is racing again, but for a whole different reason. Before he can say anything, though, Zhao Yuanzhou hastily adds, “The fear. Let me help you master your… fear,” this time, his gaze drops to Zhuo Yichen’s neckline, leaving an almost burning track as he raises his eyes up back to his face.
‘Oh you despicable, foul beast,’ Zhuo Yichen thinks watching the demon’s eyes shine with unspilled laughter.
“How about you master getting out of my room?” he says even more grumpily, feeling his cheeks still burn. This Great Demon was a real demon, there was no doubt about it, and Zhuo Yichen did his best not to think about why exactly this… proximity to him made him blush like he was in the middle of the Tianxiang Pavilion surrounded by lovely ladies. Zhao Yuanzhou was neither lovely, nor was he a lady, so there was no reason to get shy about anything, right? Right. But as embarrassed as Zhuo Yichen was, he had to admit that just having someone around after that skin-crawling nightmare made him feel much, much better. Almost back to his normal self, apart from the heart that was still trying to jump out of his chest, now for reasons he couldn’t fully comprehend, with that godawful dream still lurking on the brink of his now awakened mind.
“Look, your heart is still racing so fast. Even that sword of yours didn’t keep the nightmares at bay. Do you want to know why is that?” Zhao Yuanzhou asks, a tad more serious now, but then covers Zhuo Yichen’s hand with his again, as if proving a point. About those racing hearts and loud heartbeats. Zhuo Yichen thinks this unsolicited touching needs to stop at some point, and carefully pulls his hand away, watching Zhao Yuanzhou as if he was a viper that could bite him at any minute. This Great Demon has goddess knows what on his mind, but he does seem sincere in his desire to help.
“Why doesn’t it help?” he decides to ask, because, after all, Zhao Yuanzhou is 34,000 years old, and he may be wicked in some ways, but his knowledge is akin to that of a walking and talking library. Or so Zhuo Yichen chose to believe.
The sparkles in Zhao Yuanzhou’s eyes become somewhat less as he lets out a sigh.
“The sword will not make the nightmares go away, if anything, it will amplify them,” he nods at the weapon that Zhuo Yichen sheepishly took to bed as some kind of talisman that could protect him. Now that Zhao Yuanzhou has spotted this, too… Could this night get any more embarrassing, really? He swallows hard, but decides to let it slide. The man has seen him vulnerable and lost in a dream once and managed to bring him back. The least Zhuo Yichen can do now is hear him out even with Zhao Yuanzhou being… well, himself.
“The more you use your Bing Yi force, the more it will test you, bringing out all the deepest fears hidden inside your mind, body, and soul,” Zhao Yuanzhou adds, and gives him another one of his more compassionate looks. Zhuo Yichen was starting to suspect that the Great Demon could shift between those variations of him like an actor inside a play, switching from one role to another. It was a mesmerizing sight if you learned to distinguish one part he played from another, and everything in-between, noticing the spark of his truer self, which was always shining through whatever facade he was putting on. This made Zhuo Yichen want to watch him closer and more attentively, despite the Great Demon sometimes getting a little too carried away with feigning playfulness.
The Cloud Light Sword glows beside him, reacting either to Zhuo Yichen’s thoughts, or emotions, or that demon who’s sitting in front of him looking like he actually gets him, all of him. Which simply couldn’t be true, could it?
“The more you fight it, fear it, or reject it, the more violent and destructive the dreams will become. Until you finally learn to accept it and see it for what it is,” Zhao Yuanzhou continues and this, Zhuo Yichen has to agree, does make sense. But, unfortunately for him, this doesn’t help him one bit. Zhuo Yichen has to lower his eyes, images from the dream still vivid in his mind as if some part of him was stuck there and couldn’t move on. Until he did something, or accepted something, or… saw something for what it truly was.
“What it is showing me… is the one thing I will probably never accept,” he says quietly, finally admitting this out loud, both to himself, and to a demon who was also a part of this whole ‘thing’, of the problem, of the fate that brought them together, of the malicious energy that took over him so he did what he did the way he did it. Telling him about it… wouldn’t it be cruel? To both of them.
“And what would that be?” Zhao Yuanzhou asks softly as if already sensing the answer, or maybe he’s known it all along and is asking Zhuo Yichen for his sake only. To help him master that fear, if that was possible at all.
“Turning into a demon who loses control over his powers and kills everyone he loves. Well… almost everyone,” he has to correct himself, although the ‘loves’ category was still up for debate. At least, he thought it was. He avoids looking at Zhao Yuanzhou not to see the pain his words could have caused, but then decides he is better than that, and stronger. That he can bear both Zhao Yuanzhou’s pain and his own. Facing it was just a matter of time.
“So your biggest nightmare is turning into… me,” Zhao Yuanzhou says even more softly as if this didn’t sound like the most appalling thing to say to someone whom you weren’t totally hating. Or maybe, weren’t really hating at all. The look on his face is peaceful, calm, and accepting. Out of all the things Zhuo Yichen could have said to him, it seems, this was almost anticipated. He can feel the sadness, though, enveloping them both along with that warm fiery force of Zhao Yuanzhou he could feel so well. The sadness, though, felt much more chill and made him shudder a little.
“Not into you… but into my own version of you,” he adds as if this clarification somehow mattered, but it must have, because Zhao Yuanzhou remains silent for a little while, thinking of something, the gentle wind playing with silvery strands of his hair, with moonlight adding a few pearly streaks of its own.
“I could offer to deal with that fear for you, make it go away, but… I don’t think you will ever agree to that,” he says finally, looking straight into Zhuo Yichen’s eyes with sincerity that seems fully genuine. This time he’s not acting, not at all, “That’s why I have a different offer… I can make a blood oath to you to be there if that ever happens. And to stop you from hurting anyone if it ever comes to that,” his words ring in the silence of the night, echoing inside Zhuo Yichen’s mind and heart, leaving him stunned. That he would suggest something like that… was truly appalling, but also said volumes about Zhao Yuanzhou’s character, the real him that was hiding underneath all those playful layers and impeccable acting. That he would do that for Zhuo Yichen was truly mind-blowing and also made his heart ache for some reason.
“Zhao Yuanzhou, I would never bind you like that, even if you weren’t a Great Demon who lived for thousands of years. Promises like that… are too heavy to carry through so many lifetimes,” he says earnestly, understanding one thing – between people, or demons, if one truly respected the other, he would never rob him of his freedom like that. Other people could do it, but he never would.
“Not even for the sake of your sanity? Not even for your friends?” the expression on Zhao Yuanzhou’s face is too vulnerable to put into words. He’s searching Zhuo Yichen’s face as if not believing him. That he really is this type of man. Seeing Zhao Yuanzhou like this, raw and emotional, made something inside of Zhuo Yichen click, as if a piece of a puzzle finally got into place. Was there a reason he never fought him even in the most violent of his dreams? Was there a reason even his Bing Yi force seemed reluctant to go into combat with him, into violence, into blood-shedding? Seeing him so delicate, and pained, and broken in so many places, makes Zhuo Yichen regret that oath he himself made before getting to know him, the real him. His theatrics were perfect, though, and Zhuo Yichen’s hate, he has to admit, was also present at that time, although it wasn’t directed at Zhu Yan in particular, but rather at himself.
“Not even if my life depended on it,” he says firmly, knowing it to be true. He could be confused about many things, but with this, he had no doubts whatsoever, “If that does happen in the future… and you happen to be there… and you’ll be willing to help me in any way… then I’d accept it. Otherwise, let’s leave it up to fate. And my ability to conquer that fear,” he finishes, noticing a subtle change in Zhao Yuanzhou’s demeanor, a sudden softness that makes him all tense inside for some reason. Zhao Yuanzhou was like an Ocean with ever-changing waves that never stopped moving, and so were his moods and his various states. The look the Great Demon gives him then is again filled with fiery sparkles that seemed to have disappeared for a while, but now were back brighter and shinier than ever.
“That leaves us with the first offer then,” he leans in again just a little, but enough for Zhuo Yichen to feel the warmth of his body, of him whole, sitting so close to him, and now even closer still, “I could make your fear go away. If only for a little while. I could help you… regain some balance. This offer still stands,” the way he says it, though, promises anything but balance, making Zhuo Yichen’s heart miss a few beats, that treacherous blush creeping onto his cheeks once again when Zhao Yuanzhou’s gaze lingers on his bitten lips a little longer. As if trying to make matters even worse, his sword starts pulsating with gentle waves of icy light, betraying the heightened emotional state of its owner. Zhao Yuanzhou casts a glance at it with a faint smile on his face, murmuring under his breath “How interesting…” and then gets back to hypnotizing Zhuo Yichen with his dark sparkly eyes that seem to have blackness dance in them, swirling into spirals along with his own splashes of snowy light. Zhuo Yichen is almost drawn in to look closer just because of how beautiful it is, but a familiar presence distracts them both.
“Xiao Zhuo, I had such a weird dream with you in it…” Wen Xiao stumbles into his room, still sleepy, wrapped in a blanket, and makes a few steps, yawning, before she notices that Zhuo Yichen is not alone. And what a stunning company he has right in the middle of the night. That looks at him like it wants to devour him whole in the most pleasurable of ways. It wasn’t the first time she caught Zhao Yuanzhou staring at Xiao Zhuo like that, but things have definitely… escalated, or so it seemed.
“Oh, I probably should come la…” she almost turns around right then and there, assessing the situation with a truly goddess-like speed, but Zhao Yuanzhou is already smiling at her, sending waves of overly cheerful darkness all over the place.
“Wen Xiao! Come, there’s room for one more,” he says playfully, and Zhuo Yichen looks at him with round eyes, suddenly regretting that he doesn’t have a dozen more blankets to cover himself with.
“For one more what?!” he whispers, appalled at the turn this night had taken, but Wen Xiao doesn’t seem to mind at all, looking slightly disheveled from sleep herself – it’s not like she hasn’t come to his room before in the middle of the night. It’s not like they haven’t spent nights just talking until sunrise. It’s not like she hasn’t seen him in such an unpresentable state on numerous occasions and maybe even more unpresentable and underdressed than now. But Zhao Yuanzhou’s presence somehow made everything much, much more sensitive and, well, sensual as well, for some reason.
Zhao Yuanzhou makes a terribly worried face and winks at Zhuo Yichen mischievously before turning to Wen Xiao, looking all teary-eyed and nearly heartbroken.
“I made it just in time to bring our beloved Xiao Zhuo-daren back from the brink of that godawful nightmare. It nearly cost him his life! Look, look, he’s trembling all over,” he squeezes Zhuo Yichen’s hand once again with worry written all over his face and he’s right, Zhuo Yichen is trembling – but from the sheer horror of the play Zhao Yuanzhou was putting on for Wen Xiao. Or was it… for him?
Wen Xiao frowns a little, coming to him, looking almost frightened. Enough to hug his face with the palms of her hands gently, making him raise his eyes to meet hers, and examines Zhuo Yichen’s face inquisitively to see if he is alright. She narrows her eyes then, casting a suspicious glance at Zhao Yuanzhou who’s nearly beaming at them, not even trying to feign worry at this point. She doesn’t let go of Zhuo Yichen’s face, though, so he has to say softly, covering her hands with his, “I’m good now. It’s already passed.”
That actually earns him a worried look and Wen Xiao leans in a little closer as if to examine him more, making Zhuo Yichen turn a lovely shade of pink all over again.
‘Oh, what is it with them today?’ he thinks, desperately trying to calm that racing heartbeat of his that seems to be loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Look how hot he is, I think he might have a fever…” Zhao Yuanzhou actually touches Zhuo Yichen’s cheek as if to prove his point, and the other man has to admit that right now he might seem hot, but for different reasons altogether. If they continue touching him like that… his ‘fever’ might become even worse.
“M-hmm,” Wen Xiao nods to herself as if confirming something and then turns to Zhao Yuanzhou and knocks him on the forehead with a knuckle of her finger, making the Great Demon flinch and cave immediately, rubbing the bruised spot with his palm, “I know who has a fever here,” she adds, glaring at him, but then chuckles at the silliness of it all and sits down onto the bed near Zhuo Yichen. This was truly a day of his privacy being invaded in all possible ways. Zhuo Yichen heaves a sigh and decides just to roll with it.
“Was the dream really so bad?” Wen Xiao asks him, knowing that there must have been something that brought the Great Demon to his room, well, apart for the obvious reasons, which she wouldn’t say out loud. Let them play their little games, besides, watching them acting like this brought her a weird sense of joy she didn’t even know was possible with two of her closest… somethings. One used to be her childhood sweetheart, or so everyone else thought. The other one used to be like an older brother to her. Now, it seemed, both their statuses shifted and transformed irreversibly, yet she still couldn’t make what they were to each other, at least, not yet.
Zhuo Yichen swallows hard but doesn’t avert his gaze, which means he won’t lie. He preferred to keep silent when he couldn’t or didn’t want to say the truth out loud, but with the appearance of a certain Great Demon in their lives, even he started changing a little, day by day, becoming either grumpier than ever, or more playful, finding a different type of joy in playing along Zhao Yuanzhou’s little schemes and ruses. They were quite a pair, really, she could tell that much.
“It… wasn’t good,” he says vaguely and casts a glance at Zhao Yuanzhou as if telling him to keep his mouth shut. She casts a glance at him as well as if telling him to spill it, all of it. She wouldn’t push it, though. But the dream she had herself was mildly disturbing, waking her up in the middle of the night. She had a vague recollection of seeing something incredibly pleasant and nice, but then the torrent of dreams brought her to some other place, filled with torment, sadness, and fear, and she could feel Xiao Zhuo as if it was her own nightmare. It turns out, Zhao Yuanzhou was the first one to go to him. And it was such a beautiful thing to see.
“On a scale from 1 to 10… just how not good was it?” she asks them both, knowing that they will have to tell her the truth at some point, because what happens to one of them – happens to all of them. This concerned both their little trio and their whole family, although they may not admit it out loud. Zhuo Yichen’s moods, and changes, and transformations were just as important to her as Zhao Yuanzhou’s, and her own. She knew it was the same for them, although, again, they wouldn’t talk about it even in private.
“It was a pretty mind-numbing experience. Frightening and gruesome,” Zhao Yuanzhou answers before Zhuo Yichen can come up with some plausible lie, and the younger man glares at him, mouthing an inaudible “traitor”, and that, for some reason, fills the Great Demon with so much glee it nearly makes him shine from within. She rolls her eyes at them. Sometimes she felt like the only adult person in the room. Other times, like the only sane one. That illusion soon passed, though, and she simply joined this duo of preternatural and obviously predestined idiots, not feeling any smarter than them in any way. Her Goddess-like hunch, though, was telling her it was a pretty serious issue, but maybe not serious enough to lose one’s sleep over it. Pun intended.
Judging by Xiao Zhuo’s rosy cheeks, Zhao Yuanzhou’s flirty shenanigans paid off and the other man came back to this very un-dream-like reality fully and totally, with that fast-beating heart and feverish skin the Great Demon kept on mentioning. Good for him, then. Good for them both.
“Is your life in danger? Do I look for spells and incantations? Do we ask Bai Jiu to make you a sleeping potion?” she asks matter-of-factly but seriously because they all could use a bit of a practical touch. When dreams were concerned, there weren’t many things she could do, especially without the Bai Ze token, but there was still a lot of knowledge on the topic and magic they could try to help him.
“See, that’s what I offered him and got such a cold shoulder in reply it nearly broke my heart,” the Great Demon says, faking sadness in the most obvious way possible, and Wen Xiao has to give it to him, in terms of acting or fake-acting there was hardly anyone who could compete with Zhao Yuanzhou, inside their little team or anywhere else.
“No, you didn’t!” Xiao Zhuo glares at him again, watching Zhao Yuanzhou lower his eyes, lashes trembling lightly as if he’s overcome with emotion regarding one demon hunter who has rejected his advances. Or whatever it was he was offering him.
“Anyway,” Zhuo Yichen lets out a sigh and finally looks at Wen Xiao, ignoring the amused expression on her face she always gets when watching them interact with that certain little spice that was happening more and more often lately, “I’ll get over it. It’s my force acting up. I’ll just need to be… a little braver,” he doesn’t avert his eyes, but she can sense he’s lying about something. Or simply not telling her the whole truth. Wen Xiao lets out a small sigh of her own, watching him closely, but he seems to be intent on keeping this a secret, whatever it is. She could still try her luck seducing Zhao Yuanzhou into spilling everything, but that will have to wait until the morning.
“Try and get some sleep, alright?” she pats him on the hand gently, looking into Xiao Zhuo’s eyes to let him know that she’s there for him if he needs her. He has always been the strong one, the heroic one, and the overly sacrificial one, yet she remained somehow blind to it. When Zhao Yuanzhou stormed into their lives a lot of things became much more apparent than before. Including some affections that not only survived the passage of time but seemed to have transformed into something stronger and more unyielding. That Zhao Yuanzhou would have this effect on Xiao Zhuo was truly a miracle, and a sight to behold. She, for once, would not interfere, nor did she have the right to, really.
“Maybe… not today,” Xiao Zhuo says, his voice a little strained, not even trying to make her promises that he wouldn’t be able to keep.
“Should we stay with him then?” Zhao Yuanzhou raises his eyebrows at Wen Xiao as if proposing… what exactly? Stay to keep him company? Stay to help him sleep? Stay do what with him? Before she can answer that question even to herself, another guest sleepily storms into Xiao Zhuo’s room, clad in a blanket from head to toe, barely able to open his eyes.
“Ge… Ge, I had such a weird dream. Please, don’t go anywhere,” Bai Jiu walks straight to his bed ignoring the Great Demon and Wen Xiao who are also sitting there and just cuddles his way to Zhuo Yichen’s side before blissfully falling into sleep again, murmuring something about evil monsters and how he’ll fight anyone who will so much as lay his eyes on his Ge. Xiao Zhuo looks at him a little startled – this was something new, alright. But then his gaze softens, becoming warm and sweet like honey as he gently touches the boy’s shoulder to assure him he’s alright and he’s not going anywhere anytime soon.
Ying Lei appears shortly after, rubbing his eyes, still unable to fully wake up from the dreams that took over him, and gives them all a sleepy once-over, letting out a soft ‘oh’ as if not expecting to see so many people in Zhuo Yichen’s room all at once and so late at night. He then shrugs, smiling a little, after all, their leader of the Demon Hunting Bureau was very properly loved, even more so after the Fish Demon case, judging by how often Zhao Yuanzhou would visit his room at night. But he, of course, would never tell anyone about that.
He finds a soft and warm place near Bai Jiu, and wraps them both into a blanket he picked up from the floor, ignoring Zhuo Yichen’s startled gaze and Zhao Yuanzhou’s gentlest smile. He could still choose to sleep if he wanted to, even being a demon, and right now that seemed like a very alluring thing to do. Xiao Zhuo-daren might still kick them all out, of course, but he’ll have to go through Bai Jiu first, and Ying Lei knew he would never disturb his sleep. He smiles cunningly, snuggling beside Xiao Jiu, and shortly after feels someone pat him on the head lightly, recognizing Zhuo Yichen’s touch and smell that has become so familiar by now. He lets himself fully relax, enjoying the sensation of just being surrounded by family and friends.
“I think we need to get Xiao Zhuo-daren a bigger bed,” Zhao Yuanzhou murmurs softly, not even trying to hide a smile, overlooking the cute pile of kids, both human and demon, sleeping together, curled at Zhuo Yichen’s side. The night might have started with a dramatic twist, but now it was anything but. The only person they were lacking…
Pei Sijing stumbles into Zhuo Yichen’s room next, giving them all a sleepy look.
“Jie, I didn’t find you in your room… or Zhao Yuanzhou’s… I figured you’d be here,” she says matter-of-factly, making Wen Xiao chuckle at her cute train of thought that, actually, wasn’t all that wrong if you come to think of it. There weren’t that many people she could be spending a night with, in various ways. Zhao Yuanzhou raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t say anything, accepting it for what it is. For what they all were to each other. That she would come to Wen Xiao in the middle of the night was quite telling, too.
“Did you also have a bad dream?” Wen Xiao asks, waving her hand so she comes closer. Pei Sijing is also wrapped comfortably in a blanket, looking like she could continue dreaming any second, and seems to be quite close to falling asleep right here and now.
“On the contrary. I had the best sleep in days… almost blissful. Just felt like… seeing you,” she lowers her eyes bashfully, probably not wanting to say it out loud in front of everyone, whatever it is, and Wen Xiao doesn’t insist on it. She gives Xiao Zhuo the look that says this talk isn’t over yet, but since he seemed to be at least somewhat alright and had a bed full of kids snuggled at his side, she could go tend to her loveliest woman.
“This bed is a little small,” Wen Xiao chuckles, winking at Xiao Zhuo just to mess with him, and the appalled expression on his face is very worth it. Zhao Yuanzhou casts an almost cheerful glance at her, but there is still some worry hidden deep inside his eyes. The talk, she thinks, will happen sooner rather than later. But this night still had a few more dark hours in her and she wanted to use them wisely.
Zhuo Yichen watches Wen Xiao leave the room, holding Pei Sijing by the hand, and lets out a sigh of relief only when she’s fully and totally gone.
“You’re evil,” he darts a glance at Zhao Yuanzhou who’s watching him with a barely there smile on his face, as if it was all fun and games but only until you closed your eyes and were left one on one with those dreams that wouldn’t be so easily scared away.
“They don’t call me Da Yao for nothing,” he nods with appreciation as if Zhuo Yichen complimented him and didn’t just make a snarky remark. “The kids will keep you company,” he raises from the bed, looking like a moonlit painting, not a single fold of his beautiful attire out of place, hair falling in gorgeous waves of dark and silver. “But if you need me, my offer still stands,” he gives Zhuo Yichen an indiscernible look that could mean a thousand things and then a thousand more interpretations of those things, and glides out of the room. Before he leaves, Zhuo Yichen says a quiet “Thank you,” and for some reason, he feels that the Great Demon heard him and smiled in reply.
His dreams take a different turn then. As if Zhuo Yichen’s inner force sensed a certain shift in him. It stopped making him kill all his friends, showing pictures of his brother and dead family members, as if he had passed some kind of exam he didn’t even know was happening. It would still make him go through the whole process of losing himself to the immense, enormous power that was hidden somewhere deep down inside of him, in his blood, in the thousands of years of lineage that started waking up as soon as Zhao Yuanzhou taught him the techniques of using that Bing Yi force that belonged to him by birthright, yet now he almost wished the Great Demon didn’t do it. The force was teaching him, he understood later on, after Bai Jiu had spent a few nights in his bedroom, having a row of nightmares of his own, but refusing to leave him alone, and Zhuo Yichen had to face the necessity to control it, all of it, no matter what. The thought of hurting his little brother, if he woke up from a dream that seemed a bit too real, with the freezing Bing Yi force still clouding his mind and controlling his body, made him resilient more than anything else, boosting both his strength and his stubbornness to overcome this, whatever it was.
Now, when the wave of bright-blue icy energy flushed through him like a roaring snowstorm, he could stand his ground, at least to some extent. And when he couldn’t, either being tired or too emotional, or downright exhausted from the cases the Demon Hunting Bureau kept on taking one after the other, then it would overpower him in his dream, clouding his mind, taking over his body, killing, and ruining, and destroying everything that was so dear to him.
It took him quite some time to understand that it wasn’t like that, initially, it wasn’t the same as the malicious energy that would wreak havoc whenever it went loose, but his Bing Yi force was testing him, preparing him, showing him each and every of his weakest spots, both physical and mental. It was draining him, and it was making him stronger than ever before, at least, by human standards.
The dreams took a different turn, though, and he couldn’t bear to do this.
The oath, those words he spoke once with such intent and conviction, are burning inside his own throat making it hard to breathe, making him inhale freezing-cold air in slow heavy heaps, his chest barely moving as if he was trying to breathe in liquid ice. Whatever resilience he had gathered, it all fell apart like a warm oceanic wave that met a freezing shore, breaking, and crashing, and shuttering into a million pieces.
It’s not the demon Zhu Yan that is standing in front of him right now, but Zhao Yuanzhou, with that careful half-smile, so understanding and compassionate, and so utterly kind. No matter how many times Zhuo Yichen lost his cool, lost control, or got devoured by his Bing Yi force, to the point that it would draw his sword and put it to Zhao Yuanzhou’s chest, or heart, or neck, no matter how lost he got in the soft murmur of huge blocks of ice moving through eternity, unperturbed by the mortal affairs, not caring even one bit of the pain it would cause him… he couldn’t make himself do it. Even if the whole world came crashing down upon his head and shoulders, destroying his very soul, destroying everything he held so dear, killing Zhao Yuanzhou seemed infinitely more dreary, so frightening and unbearable that he would wake up from the dream, each and every time, so that even his Bing Yi force, seemingly omnipotent and all-pervading, would stop its flow, unable to make his hand move even an inch, drawing blood in that final blow. As much as he hurt Zhao Yuanzhou in real life – it was never serious, he made sure it was no more than a slash or a little prick of his blade, and even that started feeling… too much. As if they were rehearsing something, which would devastate him to the very core, breaking his heart into a thousand pieces that would never restore, not in a million years.
Zhuo Yichen wakes up, breathing heavily, his blanket lying crumpled on the floor, his clothes a mess, his lips bitten and bloody, with particles of ice slowly dancing in the air all around him, swirling into beautiful spirals and some otherworldly figures reminiscent of ancient beasts, powerful tigers, and apes, and cold icy dragons. Why was Bing Yi’s force doing this to him? Why was he doing this to himself?
Zhuo Yichen’s chest rises and falls as the air, now slightly warmer, enters his lungs, helping ease the pain, his meridians burning with the power that wasn’t entirely his, but somehow was, nonetheless, by the sheer right of passage. It was changing him, slowly and steadily, making him learn how to control it, how to channel it, using it for the greater good, or whatever he would choose to use it for. That force, he felt, wasn’t inherently vicious, or destructive, yet it would destroy him if he couldn’t become a proper vessel for it. It was almost funny, in a way, and out of all people and demons, Zhao Yuanzhou understood him better than anyone else, silently happy that Zhuo Yichen didn’t get to experience losing control like that in real life, learning everything the hard way. The hardest of them all.
He feels the familiar presence even before Zhao Yuanzhou appears in the doorway, his steps inaudible in the darkness of the night, his gaze as attentive as ever. Zhuo Yichen’s heightened senses tune into the flow of malicious force that means him no harm, curbed and carefully controlled by Zhao Yuanzhou’s willpower that seemed unyielding, like nothing in this world could possibly make him lose his cool. Zhuo Yichen knew it wasn’t true, having seen the other man get way too emotional too many times, but even then the malicious force didn’t find a crack it could seep through.
There’s a barely audible sigh as the Great Demon comes closer and sits down on his bed as he usually does, and the fact that it’s become so simple already, so natural for them to share these moments, minutes, and hours post-nightmares made Zhuo Yichen’s heart hurt even more, tightening it with pangs of pain he could barely fathom himself. This shouldn’t be happening, and yet, it was for some reason, and he still didn’t look deeply into it, just acknowledging its presence, whatever it was.
Zhuo Yichen wipes the tears off his face before the Great Demon can see them, knowing that he already has, and slowly raises himself up into a half-sitting position, feeling infinitely tired of fighting himself over and over again, each night, every night, for what feels almost like an eternity now.
“You cannot keep doing this to yourself,” Zhao Yunazhou raises his hand and touches Zhuo Yichen’s chin, tsk’ing at his bloodied lips, his fingers as careful as ever. The motion still makes Zhuo Yichen blush a little, forever not used to such shows of care and attention, be it Wen Xiao, or the Great Demon, or even Bai Jiu, who would sometimes bashfully sneak into his room and toss a bowl with some dream-inducing concoction into his hands, making sure he drinks each and every drop of it. Sometimes it would keep the dreams at bay, and sometimes it would make them infinitely worse, sending him deeper into the nooks and corners of his tired mind, making it harder to wake up. But he would thank the boy over and over again, because the sentiment warmed his heart more than any medicine ever could. This is what's keeping him afloat during all these days turning into weeks and into months.
Zhuo Yichen looks at Zhao Yuanzhou, his cheeks still burning from the touch, and the Great Demon’s gaze lingers, as usual, on his face and later, on his lips as well, making the other man wonder what exactly was going through his mind at that moment. Zhao Yuanzhou takes a small bottle of ointment from the folds of his clothes, courtesy of Bai Jiu, who would never do this himself, not like the Great Demon could.
“You just watch me,” Zhuo Yichen says, a glimpse of his usual stubbornness lighting up his eyes if ever so little, along with a now familiar bright-blue glint that made him look like a fairy or like a… demon. Zhao Yuanzhou has to admit that the further he went down this path and the more he used his Bing Yi force, the more it seeped right through him, drenching him whole, revealing the darkest and most hidden secrets of his heart and soul. And whatever it was, it was tormenting Zhuo Yichen in ways Zhao Yuanzhou could imagine, but there was no way to relieve this burden from him, for it was his and his alone to carry. There were things he could do for Zhuo Yichen, though, even without his magic, or using close to no amount of it… those things were still on the table, if their head of the Demon Hunting Bureau would allow himself to indulge in something less painful and a little more pleasurable. He could never imagine him saying ‘yes’ to any of his playful advances, however light or flirty, yet Zhao Yuanzhou continued being like that, knowing that as far as distractions were concerned, both for the human body and mind, that kind of affection worked even better than magic. And yet, relaxing Zhuo Yichen seemed like an impossible feat, be it for a Goddess or a Great Demon. Still, he accepted the challenge, thinking that care and attention could do wonders, even if it took him a small eternity to get through to the other man, and then another eternity to ease his pain, whatever it was.
That he would start feeling all this was somewhat of a wonder in itself, even for Zhao Yuanzhou. That his heart still could open up, even just a little, was a small miracle worthy of celebration. That it would slowly expand, letting in all these messy, beautiful humans and goddesses and half-gods, and one particular demon hunter, was akin to a dream that he was afraid to wake up from one day, finding no one and nothing around him. Judging by the stubborn look on Zhuo Yichen’s face, with a little flush painting his cheeks a lovely rosy hue, he would let none of that happen, all those things he was afraid of himself. As well as those that made Zhao Yuanzhou’s heart tighten with grief even though they had yet to happen.
“I am watching you,” Zhao Yuanzhou says, taking some of the ointment from the bottle, noticing the barely-there aroma of herbs and something sweet that reminded him of honey and plum blossom. An array of undecent thoughts and images rushes through his mind like a pleasant current of a river in summer, warmed up by the scorching sun, so relaxing, so inviting. He lets them pass, along with the cravings, and one very particular type of hunger that made his own eyes glint with dark reddish light, if only for a few moments. If the head of their Demon Hunting Bureau knew exactly what he was thinking about, he would probably never let him into his room ever again.
Zhao Yuanzhou’s lips curl just a little at that thought, as he touches Zhuo Yichen’s chipped lips with his fingertips, applying the ointment in careful, barely-there motions, watching the other man part his lips a little, the expression in his eyes unreadable, but they are glistening like precious gems in the dim light of the room, with only a moon crescent hanging up somewhere high in the sky, giving them barely enough light to see each other. Seeing, Zhao Yuanzhou thought, was greatly exaggerated. Feeling and touching, on the other hand, was more divine than anything he had felt in many, many years. And if Zhuo Yichen’s brightly glowing sword was of any indication, the sensation excited him at least a little bit, too. In one way or another. Whether it was a pleasant feeling was still up for debate, but Zhao Yuanzhou could already feel some new emotions moving and stirring inside the other man’s heart, body, and soul. Big and hot and deep enough to destroy them both long before they even come close to fulfilling that promise that Zhao Yuanzhou made him utter, now feeling a little regretful himself.
“Zhao Yuanzhou, I want a blood oath from you,” Zhuo Yichen says breathily, in full contradiction to everything he said before, but the Great Demon knows he’s not telling the truth. And he knows it, too. His words catch his breath, though, if only for a second, making him stare into Zhuo Yichen’s eyes a little longer than was appropriate, but those kinds of restrictions held less gravity over him with each passing day, and with each passing night spent watching his tormented sleep or helping him get back to reality, trying to live through all that pain caused by his Bing Yi force and, probably, something else as well.
“Very well,” he lets go of Zhuo Yichen’s chin and leans back feeling a little reluctant to pull away. Feeling that, maybe, the other man wouldn’t even mind if he pressed forward. He dared not, not yet, saving them both from something that could never be taken back, or forgotten, or ignored. Something, he would do without so much as thinking twice if Zhuo Yichen decided that’s what he wanted… himself. So the Great Demon decided to wait, knowing that moment could never come. Maybe time was not something they had plenty of. Yet Zhao Yuanzhou was willing to grant Zhuo Yichen a whole eternity of doubts and confusion if that would keep his bottomless human heart from breaking.
“Can you promise me… not to die if I kill you?” Zhuo Yichen asks, and Zhao Yuanzhou’s heart misses a few beats, and then a few more, when the other man leans in to look deeper into his eyes, searching his face for some kind of answer. Was it even possible for them now? With Bing Yi’s curse that stretched across Zhuo Yichen’s whole lineage, with Zhao Yuanzhou being the vessel to the malicious energy capable of destroying the whole world if let loose… he would ask him this, out of all things? Zhao Yuanzhou feels speechless, for the first time in many, many years. Before, he had no one to speak to, and to share his thoughts, fears, and visions. Now he is left utterly flabbergasted with just a few heartfelt words said in a low, intense voice.
The nature of this new cycle of nightmares that were tearing Zhuo Yichen apart was becoming more evident by the minute, as Zhao Yuanzhou kept staring into his eyes glowing with a bluish light of their own.
“Will that… make you feel better?” he asks softly, already knowing the answer to that question. He does his best to remain as still as a mountain, afraid to make one wrong move that would make him lose his carefully crafted composure. And do that very thing he’s been thinking of doing for the past few weeks that seemed to stretch into months that felt like years. That he would feel all these things for a young man barely out of his twenties, yet already so powerful, and wise, and righteous, and resilient, having lived through a hell of his own that lasted for years upon years… it was wondrous, and a little scary, and for some reason, it made him hopeful that against all odds, his own life still meant something more than just being a vessel for a force that was as deadly as death itself. Was he even allowed to feel this way after everything he had done – to him in particular? That question remained unanswered, apart from the burning need inside of Zhuo Yichen’s eyes that seemed to engulf his whole being. To beat the fate that was ruling them like a cold-hearted Empress, and to change the course their lives have taken unexpectedly, and yet, in full accordance with whatever godly plan that was set in motion as soon as they met.
“Yes… and no,” Zhuo Yichen answers, dropping his gaze, knowing all too well that it wouldn’t really change anything in the grand scheme of things. Asking Zhao Yuanzhou to do that was irresponsible and childish. Like trying to make someone else cover up for his own failure. If only he knew back then… But he didn’t, and neither did Zhao Yuanzhou, that this was the path they would take, that both their hearts would turn out… like this.
“I don’t mind. I…” and before Zhao Yuanzhou can continue, Zhuo Yichen darts a scared glance at him, swiftly covering the Great Demon’s mouth with a palm of his hand. There are tears in his eyes, but he manages a smile as if this was just some cute joke they were sharing.
“Don’t. I’m not… thinking straight. It’ll get better after a few hours of sleep,” he slowly takes away his hand from Zhao Yuanzhou’s lips and the Great Demon has to make a conscious effort not to catch it, and kiss his fingers, and palm, and wrist. He slowly blinks at the other man, wondering when did all of this happen – to him, and to both of them.
Zhao Yuanzhou lets out a sigh, feeling the tension build up like a wall of ice around Zhuo Yichen that for some reason didn’t feel cold at all, as if inviting him to break through it, all of it, whatever was gnawing on his heart, making him look so out of his depth, like it was too much, already, when they just met, and now it was getting blown to proportions his human mind and heart simply weren’t ready to cope with. He did his best, though, Zhao Yuanzhou knew it.
“I can help you with that, at least,” Zhao Yuanzhou’s fingers glow gently in the dark, sending a soft warm wave towards Zhuo Yichen as he utters one word, “Sleep,” and then catches the other man as his body grows limp, letting him rest his forehead on the Great Demon’s shoulder.
“Zhao Yuanzhou… don’t you dare…” he doesn’t finish, slowly drifting into a dreamless sleep that would keep him unconscious at least for a few hours. Zhuo Yichen’s Bing Yi force didn’t take kindly to being obstructed like that and worked around Zhao Yuanzhou’s spells faster with each passing day. He would still do it from time to time, giving the other man the much-needed rest that didn’t involve fighting or hurting or conquering his own self in a sequence of visions that just never seemed to end.
Zhao Yuanzhou hugs him a little, stroking his back as if he were a huge beast in need of care and soft touches, yet incredibly gentle and sensitive by his very nature. Or maybe it was him who needed all that, but would never ask for it, or somehow impose himself on Zhuo Yichen. Even his flirty outbursts became somehow less as he was feeling more and more genuine in his advances, until he wasn’t playing at all, his heart quite sincerely skipping all those beats for the man in his arms, and then some more when he would sometimes catch Zhuo Yichen staring at him, intensely, as he always does, looking thrilled, and fascinated, and conflicted at the same time. How the human heart was not bursting from the intensity of such emotions was one of the biggest mysteries Zhao Yuanzhou had yet to solve.
The Great Demon allows himself to lay a gentle kiss on his temple before lowering Zhuo Yichen down on the bed, and then spends some more time just watching his peaceful sleeping face, finally relaxed, the spell keeping him unconscious at least for an hour or two.
That things would come to this was surprising on too many levels. That Zhao Yuanzhou would feel so happy about it, was yet another fact that remained somewhat stunning even to himself.
Having spent at least half an hour or so meditating on his resting visage, Zhao Yuanzhou comes to terms with himself on some things. He smiles at the other man, knowing that he would never have allowed him to do anything like it, that’s why he won’t tell him, with the Cloud Light Sword being the sole witness to the blood oath he wanted to give himself – to Zhuo Yichen. The man who made him feel so alive after what seems like thousands of years of emotional slumber.
He bites his finger, watching a dark-red blood drop emerge, and whispers into the silence of the night:
“I, Zhao Yuanzhou, the Great Demon of the Wilderness, promise to come back to you no matter what happens. Even if takes me an eternity to do so,” he leans over the sleeping Zhuo Yichen and reaches for his sword, pressing his fingers to the cold blade, prickly with Bing Yi’s freezing energy. It shines brightly for a few long moments, accepting his oath, his blood, and his sacrifice, and whatever it meant for them both – Zhao Yuanzhou and his blood-sworn killer, the only one of his kind.
“Zhao Yuanzhou, if you don’t do it, I will. And you know how he is, he’ll definitely insist on us getting married after that,” she says feigning grumpiness, and casts a glance at Zhao Yuanzhou who looks more than a little amused by her words, gleeful sparkles making his eyes shine bright like two little stars.
“If that is what my lady Goddess truly desires…” he says courteously and now she glares at him, not understanding how he can still remain so calm in the face of this… everything that’s been going on lately. They’re both watching Zhuo Yichen fight a bunch of some demi-god delinquents who have crept into the human world while the Goddess wasn’t watching, going at them if not at full power, then very close to it, splashes of light-blue energy flying all over the street that became instantly empty as soon as the fight began. The demi-gods, mischievous as they were, probably had nothing on him, but were strong enough to put up a good fight and help the man release some of that pent-up tension that seemed to be his usual condition lately - right after he tapped into his Bing Yi force and Zhao Yuanzhou taught him how to use. And then, of course, the dreams came back, making him lose most, if not all, of his sleep.
The fascination in Zhao Yuanzhou’s eyes is genuine, she knows that much, but for some reason, the Great Demon was stalling. It’s not like they would have to get married after fooling around with each other for a bit. She lets out a sigh. And there she thought demons were a frivolous, lighthearted bunch who didn’t care much about the restrictions of the human world that made relationships so messy. It seemed this demon in particular was more human than any other humans she had met in her entire life.
“You wouldn’t mind then?” she asks, searching his face, the fight still going on in their nearest vicinity, but the half-demon half-gods were getting tired of it already. It was just a matter of time before one of them would budge, and the rest would follow. As far as trespassers were concerned, the policy of the Demon Hunting Bureau was pretty straightforward – capture and lock up until further notice. And yet, since they’ve gotten the Bai Ze token back, both she and Zhao Yuanzhou, Zhuo Yichen slightly modified their set of rules to the devastation of some of the bureau’s high-ranking officials. Now the trespassers were used for training, got properly beaten up, then captured, and then returned to the Wilderness to think about their ungodly, or un-demi-godly behavior. Ying Lei, who’s standing right next to them just in case Xiao Zhuo-daren needed some help, because obviously these two were too preoccupied with discussing some other, ahem, matters, casts an inquisitive glance at them both, wondering when things took on such a dreadful and menacing turn.
“How would I mind it? He loves you so much,” Zhao Yuanzhou says nonchalantly, looking only a little smug as if he knew what he said was true, it just wasn’t the whole truth. And as deep as Zhuo Yichen’s bond was with Wen Xiao, it was not very likely they would actually cross that line he was thinking about crossing a little too often these days.
“Zhao Yuanzhou, you’re insufferable,” she ignores Ying Lei listening in on them, realizing that by now hiding this, whatever it was, didn’t really make any sense. Everyone in their little team caught onto the level of tension that was now surrounding Zhuo Yichen like a storm cloud ready to burst with a series of lightning flashes any second. And somehow all their gazes turned to Zhao Yuanzhou without any prior discussion as if he was the one and only true source of that tension. Not that they would ever discuss something like that in the private of their chambers, maybe with a jug of wine and more than just a little wining about two idiots who just can’t work around their issues making the whole team pay by witnessing their dancing around some very sensitive topics and a truly indecent amount of flirting that was happening no matter what they did, sparking a handful of bright burning flames. But alas, that’s as far as the things went between those two. Pei Sijing would listen to Wen Xiao’s rant calmly, stroking the other woman’s shoulder and hand, running her palm along the delicate skin of her back, nodding to her each word, and then wisely noting that matters of the heart couldn’t be rushed or hurried in any way – they both were a testament to that. It did take them quite a considerable amount of time to accept that whatever they were feeling for each other wasn’t just friendship, although it was a huge part of what made their relationship work out so well in the end. And still, watching her two most precious, most favourite men in the whole world torment each other like that made Wen Xiao nearly lose her own sleep. Why couldn’t they just be… normal about it? A kiss here and there wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it?
Alas, she knew Xiao Zhuo too well – the type of gentleman that he was with both ladies and, as it turned out, men as well, not allowing himself so much as an extra touch that could be interpreted as something else, something more, something different. And yet, Zhao Yuanzhou looked like that one touch would be enough to set his whole being on fire, if Zhuo Yichen only chose to do it out of his own accord.
“He will train himself to death if things continue like that,” she watches the demi-god delinquents surrender one by one, with Zhuo Yichen towering over them, looking tired, but also happy, and Ying Lei visibly relaxes at that, and then rushes to his aid to help incapacitate the trespassers with his own magic and spells until they escort them back to the Wilderness with a long angry letter addressed to their elders. Zhuo Yichen casts a glance at them as if wondering why they were there at all – because he could totally take on those guys alone and there was even Ying Lei if he needed any help, but then his gaze softens considerably as it lingers on Zhao Yuanzhou, and then some more – when it moves to Wen Xiao, making her skin crawl with a sudden realization. Oh, she knew that look and the feeling behind it all too well. Wasn’t she looking at them both the same way when she thought no one noticed? Secretly happy that they were kinda-sorta-together or at least getting there?
“Do you think he believes that we are..." she starts saying, not knowing how to properly formulate this, whatever it was. She and Zhao Yuanzhou are close. Closer than most people. They even do some things most couples do, but never do some other things that most couples do. Sometimes they do things other couples would be dreaded to even think about doing. She never thought she’d live to the day when this became an actual issue, out of all things.
Zhao Yuanzhou casts an amused glance at her, seemingly unperturbed by the whole situation, looking stunning in his dark robes with delicate silver embroidery that matches the silver in his hair so well. The love she felt for him was hot and strong, and totally unconditional – she would hug and kiss him and be with him if it ever came to that. She would love him till the end of times and then some more. It was just a little different with Pei Sijing. A little more physical, and girly, and delicate on a whole new level of hotness she didn’t know she could even feel – with a woman or not. And so, she didn’t put one before the other, and no one made a fuss about it, somehow finding enough wisdom in themselves to co-exist, co-love, and co-care for one another in various ways that only complemented each other. Weren’t Xiao Zhuo and Zhao Yuanzhou like that, too? Would her dignified, overly righteous Xiao Zhuo actually restrain himself for her sake, thinking that he’s somehow doing them all a favor by ignoring his own feelings and keeping them to himself? As if they weren’t obvious to everyone inside their little family already.
“I think he just might believe… that we are,” Zhao Yuanzhou says calmly with that faint smile on his face that made him look even more beautiful than he already was. Wen Xiao was struggling between kissing him and hitting him with something heavy.
“And you will just let him?” she’s searching the Great Demon’s face for some kind of adequate answer, but it never comes, or maybe she just refuses to see it for some reason. She could drown in the warmth of Zhao Yuanzhou’s gaze when he looked at her as if she, indeed, was that very Goddess they all revered so much, and infinitely more than that – to him.
“He isn’t wrong to think that, though, is he?” Zhao Yuanzhou says softly leaning in just a little as if actually going for a kiss, but instead lays it on her forehead, his lips feeling soft and hot on her skin. Her heart skips a few beats – this time, for him, fully and totally. They just usually don’t follow this path, whatever it was, because none of them seemed to want that exact kind of intimacy with each other. Not that they couldn’t indulge themselves in the future, judging by how good it feels just being near him, now that the other part of the Bai Ze token was also active inside of Zhao Yuanzhou. This could be the magic just bringing them closer together, or it could be something else entirely.
“Do we really have to choose?” she asks quietly, not even trying to make this, whatever they shared, somehow less than it was. Because she had to admit that it, too, felt amazing in all sorts of ways and she wouldn’t want to lose it if she could help it. But what if they couldn’t have it all – at once? What if they couldn’t all be happy together in this weird tangle of relationships that they’ve gotten themselves into. What if sacrifices still had to be made, and Xiao Zhuo was just the one choosing to make one – so they don’t have to?
“Maybe… we already have,” Zhao Yuanzhou says quietly as he looks back at Zhuo Yichen sheathing his sword and looking quite at peace with himself, at least on the surface. He has lost quite some weight, looking fitter than ever before, but also due to that lack of sleep he was still experiencing, with Zhao Yuanzhou making his late-night visits as untraceable as he could. The way things were going now… he really didn’t know what was the best course of action. That wouldn’t send them all spiraling into an emotional vortex so strong that it could destroy everyone and everything that got in its way.
“Will this choice make any of us happy? Does he have to be the one suffering for it? Aren’t you afraid of what it will do to him… and to us?” she asks Zhao Yuanzhou all these questions, but in fact, she’s asking herself, and she doesn’t have a single good answer. She only knows one thing – these two remarkable men have a mountain of unresolved issues and pent-up tension the size of the sun and burning just as brightly, and Zhao Yuanzhou could talk about making choices all he wanted, but he would still have to face all that sooner rather than later.
Zhuo Yichen seemed to be doing well, too well, actually, gaining more and more control over that power that was secretly gnawing at him, making him train vigorously by day, and explore the depths of his mind, heart, and soul, by night. He was doing so well, in fact, that Wen Xiao, too, started paying him visits late at night when she couldn’t find it in herself to get that proper amount of sleep knowing that he wasn’t. More often than not she would find Zhao Yuanzhou sitting there by his side lost in his own thoughts, or some dreams of his own, just holding Xiao Zhuo’s hand, with delicate streams of his energy running up to support their head of the Demon Hunting Bureau in whatever struggles he was facing all alone inside of his dreams. She would often wonder, then, why wouldn’t he do more, why wouldn’t he use some spell on him, or when he did use a spell on him, why didn’t he make it last longer. Why would he stare at him longingly but never hold him, kiss him, ruin him in ways you could only ruin a person that you love more than anyone else in the world?
This, Wen Xiao had to admit, she didn’t understand, so she stopped even trying. And on those nights when Zhao Yuanzhou wouldn’t come, or would already leave by the time she arrived, she would sit by Xiao Zhuo’s side and hold his hand in almost the same way, feeling her own heart tighten from the sheer amount of helplessness she was feeling. Wasn’t she the Bai Ze Goddess, who has now restored her full power? Why couldn’t she just use it to help him somehow? Zhao Yuanzhou has explained to her numerous times, with a sadness akin to her own, that some battles you simply had to endure on your own. Yet, he would do everything in his power to help when Zhuo Yichen required it. That, she could actually understand. Sometimes the only thing you can do for the person you love is just be there for them, even if it’s just to hold his hand in the darkness of the night while he’s struggling through his sleep. She would then come back to Pei Sijing, to their warm and welcoming bed, and hug her tightly from behind, hiding her face in the folds of her nightwear, feeling helpless and teary-eyed, and heartbroken to the point she lost her calm and composure.
“Jie…” Pei Sijing would always wake up and turn to her, hug her, and kiss her gently on the forehead – her kisses were so-so different from the ones Zhao Yuanzhou bestowed upon her as some kind of god-like blessing, yet she would never be able to explain just how different and why having them both in her life mattered so much. Them, and Xiao Zhuo, who has developed a tendency to make her heart bleed for him lately.
“They’re both idiots,” she would say grumpily, letting Pei Sijing’s fingers wipe the tears off her face, and then bring her closer into a warm hug that felt like heavens opening its doors and welcoming Wen Xiao into their divine embrace.
“And you love them for that,” she would reply, being so painfully right that Wen Xiao simply didn’t have anything to answer to that, letting herself relax a little, and then some, and then some more, a familiar presence washing away all her tears and fears, making all her challenges seem small and not that significant at all.
“You’re a Goddess,” Pei Sijing would say to her then, kissing her lips with a tenderness that sent warm waves all across Wen Xiao’s body, her hands finding their way underneath all those layers of night clothing that seemed so unnecessary at that moment, “You… can think of something… and just do as you want,” she would say breathily, feeling Wen Xiao’s delicate palms and fingers exploring her body here and there, and everywhere she saw fit, making her gasp just a little, closing her eyes from the sheer pleasure of it.
“That I am,” Wen Xiao murmurs, letting go of those two incredibly foolish wonderful men at least for some time. Because this… this right there was more precious to her than she could ever describe with words. She might not be able to have it all, have them all in her life simultaneously, but she could at least try. As their kisses and soft touches grow into sweet moans, she lets go of that, too, if only for some time. In the morning, she knows, she will find a way out of this. Or make things infinitely worse, which, in a way, could also turn out to be beneficial for that ball of tension suffering from his otherworldly dreams in that lonely room of his.
“S-spike Zhuo-daren’s drink?” Ying Lei’s eyes go comically wide, but there’s immediately a foxy glint in them, followed by a broad happy smile and a blush, as if the thought made him both happy and embarrassed at the same time.
“Both their drinks, to be exact. Although, I’m not sure this will work on a 34,000-year-old Great Demon, but it’s worth a try,” Wen Xiao takes out a small bottle she’s been working on for a whole day, having read through a few dozen scrolls on magical potions, spells, and all kinds of love-boosters. If this wouldn’t at least make them talk things out, then she didn’t know what would.
“I’m taking Pei-jiejie out on a date,” she says matter-of-factly, watching Ying Lei’s eye start sparkling even more, as if they didn’t already know that she and Wen Xiao were, well, involved, now more intimately than ever. Wen Xiao has been so exhausted with all these relationship shenanigans performed by her most favourite duo, that it somehow made her and Pei Sijing draw even closer to each other, which, she had to admit, wasn’t such a bad thing after all. This trick she wanted to play on her wonderful boys, one young, and one quite ancient, could backfire on her in ways she couldn’t even imagine right now. She could, of course, but she still chose not to analyze that hectic plan too much. Whatever will be, will be. It’s not like she has some other brilliant idea to try, anyway. At least, not now.
“You take Little Bunny out into the market. There’s a fire show today and plenty of delicious foods in the streets,” she stuffs a small purse filled with money into his hands, making Ying Lei’s eyes go even rounder, as if that was possible at all. “But first – the drinks. You can use whatever excuse you can come up with. That I made Xiao Zhuo a restorative tonic that should help him sleep better. Do whatever you want, but make them drink it, all of it,” she tosses the bottle into Ying Lei’s slightly trembling hands, wondering if this babyboy will be able to handle such a dreary task. She knew she couldn’t do it – they would immediately read right through her. That it was her handmade ‘tonic’ was weird enough, but she’s been making various herbal medicines for Xiao Zhuo for quite some time now, which shouldn’t be that suspicious. Making the Great Demon drink it, well, this was a challenge only a little cunning half-god could take on, or at least, she hoped so.
“But wouldn’t they be suspicious? Of me? Giving them your tonic?” he asks innocently , but the purse with money is already hidden in the folds of his clothes, which makes Wen Xiao chuckle a little. Their Mountain God adored the human realm with all its festivities and delicious foods very much. What he adored even more was spending time with Bai Jiu and all that delectable entertainment. As far as friendships and brotherhoods were concerned, theirs was the cutest one, and watching their Little Bunny slowly warming up to Ying Lei was a real treat that just made her heart flutter.
“Believe me, it will be much more suspicious if I try to do it. My face simply can’t lie like that,” she shows a slight blush that’s already there on her cheeks despite them just talking about the whole thing. She wasn’t feeling embarrassed about doing something like this, but her emotions would be all over the place thinking about them, well, getting it on in any way, even a little bit. That’s why it was a no-go for her. “You need to become this Goddess’s little love agent. Can you do it for me?” she asks Ying Lei, because, well, this operation of theirs could become a little life-threatening if a certain Great Demon decided to get angry all of a sudden, or a certain exceptional swordsman decided to get annoyed with the whole thing.
The smile that blooms on Ying Lei’s face says he’s in, fully and totally, despite all the risks. Wen Xiao pats him on the head lightly, knowing that this young guy would never mind taking one for the team, and she might feel some pangs of remorse later for putting him in danger, but it all depends on how things will go with those two gorgeous, yet stubborn men.
“If this is my Goddess’s wish, then I will happily oblige,” he says officially, bringing his hands together and bowing to her as if it was some kind of a secret and very important mission she was sending him on. As if the fate of the whole world depended on it. Well, it was very much the fate of her world at stake, and the risks were high. Because if she watches them pine for each other one more day, or month, or year, she might as well burst into flames herself. And that would be a pretty pathetic demise for a Bai Ze Goddess, no one would want to go out like that.
She lets out a sigh, feeling her mind growing more restless with each passing minute.
“Don’t get caught,” she whispers to Ying Lei, squeezing his shoulder a little, and leaves their cute Mountain God alone, facing one of the deadliest missions known both to human and demon kind.
Zhao Yuanzhou has to admit that Ying Lei’s cunning little face should earn him at least a small raise at the Demon Hunting Bureau. For a kid to remain so collected in the face of what he was actually doing, pouring them the most delicious-smelling tea from some ‘very rarest tea collection’ that he got from his great-great-great-great grandpa, goddess rest his demonic soul, who used to be an actual tea master, growing them teas on the wild hills of the Kunlun Mountains, letting them acquire the best qualities of both worlds – the delicious taste of the human realm and the magical properties of the demonic one. This should have explained that barely-there, but very prominent taste of magic and love spells created by none other than the Bai Ze Goddess herself. She was smart not to use the Bai Ze token, but she failed to consider the fact that her very own energy was as distinct and aromatic as the tea itself. Ying Lei is, indeed, serving a certain ‘tonic’ made by her to Zhuo Yichen, who is sitting with a timid smile on his face, carefully sniffing the potion in his tea bowl. And the more he sniffs it, the higher up his brows go. He doesn’t say anything to Ying Lei, though, nor does he comment on this ‘absolute bestest dream-fixing potion created by our Lady Goddess’ that Ying Lei marketed as if he has spent dozens of years selling medicines in the streets of human towns. The boy did deserve a raise, or a pat on the head, or, more likely, a decent spanking after both he and Zhuo Yichen go through this ordeal.
Zhao Yuanzhou calmly takes a sip of the tea, which does taste quite exceptional, making the Great Demon think the kid’s story must be truthful at least to some extent. Zhuo Yichen raises his sparkling, highly amused eyes at Ying Lei, feigning as much ignorance as he possibly can, and courteously nods to him, “You should thank Wen Xiao for me, I really don’t deserve so much… effort,” the corners of his mouth twitch just a little, as Ying Lei beams at him, pouring Zhao Yuanzhou some more tea with the same magical tonic in it, albeit in a more modest dosage. He could still feel the effect of it and had no doubt Zhuo Yichen was feeling it, too. It was such a peculiar mix of truth spells, love potions, and aphrodisiacs, that he had to applaud their Goddess for inventing this just for their sake.
“Oh, Xiao Zhuo-daren, our Lady Goddess is way too worried for you, she would do anything to make you feel better,” Ying Lei continues chirping cheerfully, oblivious to the fact that they both can see right through him.
“She’s one of a kind, indeed,” Zhao Yuanzhou confirms, his lips curling up just a little, feeling amusement lighting up his whole being from within. He could undo all these cute little spells with one flip of his fingers. But he just chose not to, not yet. Zhuo Yichen had also grown considerably stronger, his senses heightened from the extensive use of the Bing Yi force that was now circulating through his meridians almost non-stop, making him closer to being a demon than any other person Zhao Yunazhou had ever met.
“I will leave you to it, then. There is more tea if you want,” Ying Lei smiles at them broadly feeling as if he has finally accomplished something good in life, at least, in the eyes of his Goddess, and leaves them like that, whistling some carefree melody to himself. When his steps finally become inaudible, Zhuo Yichen laughs a little, his amusement finally reaching its peak, with a beautiful smile lighting up his face. Zhao Yuanzhou doesn’t remember when was the last time he saw their precious head of the Demon Hunting Bureau smile like that – light and effortless, with his eyes sparkling so brightly. Zhuo Yichen finishes drinking the ‘tonic’ and pours himself some tea, stopping for just a moment to smell it, and then chuckles again.
“Never thought she’d be using kids like this,” he doesn’t seem at all surprised, though, nor does he look in any way sad or disappointed, “She didn’t consider that it will take you exactly one whiff of demonic power to undo all this, whatever it is,” he raises the cup, saluting him, and Zhao Yuanzhou does the same, letting his own smile reach his eyes.
“And it will take you the exact same whiff of Bing Yi power to negate the effect of this… tonic,” he noticed Zhuo Yichen becoming slightly more relaxed – in the way that his shoulders dropped a little and he wasn’t sitting as straight as a general on some war meeting deciding the fate of the whole nation.
“You’re not doing it, though,” Zhuo Yichen casts a still very much amused glance at Zhao Yuanzhou, and the Great Demon only nods in reply.
“This is good tea. Might as well just enjoy it,” he says it a bit ambiguously, letting the other man know that they can just enjoy it, whatever it is. As far as love potions and aphrodisiacs were concerned, they weren’t as potent when it came to demonic physique, because their bodies were wired a little differently. He could still feel a certain pull, as if a warm wave washed all over his body and mind, adding a certain softness and tenderness to everything around him. Zhuo Yichen seemed more precious now than ever, and increasingly beautiful, although the Great Demon would never utter these words out loud. At least, not now, and maybe not ever.
They sit in the courtyard in Wen Xiao’s favourite spot, as if her spirit is somehow trying to guide them both even from afar. Zhao Yuanzhou was sure she was having a pleasant time with their gorgeous female warrior, and the kids must be also gone by now, judging by how quickly Ying Lei left them alone. It was already evening, and the whole Demon Hunting Bureau had grown almost still, with only some late-night birds singing in the distance. He brings his focus back to the man sitting in front of him, with that timid smile still gracing his face. Zhuo Yichen is hugging the tea bowl with his hands, letting his finger glide across the rim, lost in his own thoughts.
“She must have been feeling desperate,” he whispers under his breath, taking the bowl to his lips and having a few sips of their magical tea. He looks away for just a few moments, and when he raises his eyes, Zhao Yuanzhou is left speechless by a whole Universe of emotions swirling there like vast endless galaxies filled with planets and stars.
“If I did get… fully intoxicated by this tonic… would you indulge me?” he asks, looking Zhao Yuanzhou straight in the eyes, all his emotions enhanced by the spells and potions Wen Xiao has thrown together to create this beautifully toxic mix. Zhao Yuanzhou spends a few long moments assessing whether he understood him right. That he was actually asking him about that kind of indulging
“I would have indulged you… even if you weren’t,” Zhao Yuanzhou answers sincerely, feeling just a little more sluggish than usual. It felt nice, though. And he could, both of them could switch it off any second, but for some reason, they chose not to.
‘The truth spell...’ Zhao Yuanzhou thinks, ‘...was a really nice touch,’ and looks into Zhuo Yichen’s eyes some more, noticing realizations sparking up to life there like breathtaking fireworks.
“Would you indulge me?” he asks in return, watching that already familiar blush appear on his cheeks, reminding Zhao Yuanzhou that he was still so young, yet already so, so amazing. The most ridiculously amazing human being he has ever met in his life. And he has lived a long life.
“I would never…” he starts saying, and there’s a mischievous spark in his eyes that Zhao Yuanzhou didn’t even know existed until today, “...say ‘no’ to you,” Zhuo Yichen finishes, having used the most dramatic theatrical pause in the history of theatrical pauses, and then watches Zhao Yuanzhou’s eyes go slightly wider and his lips part a little, either from surprise or from excitement, he couldn’t really tell.
Zhao Yuanzhou feels the air around them become somewhat soft and mushy, with Zhuo Yichen’s answer sending a warm wave across his body. Their forces, he knows, are dancing right now in a very, very beautiful way, swirling, and moving, and gliding, and mixing into each other. He just can’t take his eyes off the man in front of him, afraid to miss something crucial. Those fluttering eyelashes, or the sparkly eyes with that ever-present bluish glint, or the smile that now seemed just a little smug that he could actually surprise that old demon with something, not realizing the sheer scope of his amazement. That they have just acknowledged, quite openly, that their feelings were mutual, whatever they were.
“But I’m afraid I’m not qualified to offer you anything like that,” Zhuo Yichen continues, and this – this surprises Zhao Yuanzhou even more. Where on Earth did he get that kind of idea?
“Xiao Zhuo,” the Great Demon has to drop the ever-present ‘daren’ because there was less and less distance left between them, mentally and magically. “I think you’re stealing my line,” he continues, watching a different set of energies dance all around them in a beautiful mix of colours that were slowly changing one after the other, according to their moods and feelings. This felt similar to the workings of the Truth Eye, and Zhao Yuanzhou had almost forgotten how distracting it could be. Averting his attention from the most important details, from those beautiful eyes and glances and sighs that now mattered the most.
“I made an oath to kill you,” Zhuo Yichen’s expression becomes pained, his brows furrowing lightly, a whole Ocean of Sorrow splashing its cold waves inside of his eyes and probably heart as well, “I can’t undo it. But I can’t do it, either,” as if echoing his words, the Cloud Light Sword starts glowing softly, reacting to its owner’s strong emotions and states. “The Bing Yi force is testing me. Night after night after night. But I can’t do it. I won’t,” as far as confessions were concerned, Zhao Yuanzhou had probably never heard one so painstakingly stubborn, and grief-stricken, and vulnerable at the same time. This… this was more than about just letting themselves go with some kisses and touches and other pleasurable things. Zhao Yuanzhou knew it, that’s why he never offered it first, thinking he was the unqualified one to take care of this gorgeous young man. To tend to his heart, body, and soul. He might have made a mistake, though, and a dreadful one judging by the sheer amount of pain Zhuo Yichen has been carrying inside of him all this time, with a heavy guilt for something he hasn’t even done yet. Some kissing and touching could’ve probably helped them both work through that particular type of anguish.
“That may or may not happen,” the Great Demon says carefully, knowing deep in his heart he could never lie about this, but this was the truth, none of them could predict the future like that, “But what we choose to do now is completely up to us,” and that, he knows, is the ultimate truth if there ever was one in this realm or some other. The only moment that mattered, the only choice they could actually make – was this, here and now.
Zhuo Yichen is looking at him like he sees him, in his entirety, being a vessel to all malicious forces of the world, being a numb mindless instrument that could be used any moment as soon as he would let his control loosen a little – it could come crashing down, burying not only him underneath, but also the people he loved, and the towns, and places, and the whole Wilderness. He really shouldn’t exist. Nothing like that should exist in the world.
Yet Zhuo Yichen was seeing the Great Demon, as well. That Da Yao who was infinitely curious about the world and the human realm, and fascinated with people and their emotions, so much so that he became even more sensitive and caring and empathetic than humans themselves. For they did not know of the sorrows demons faced, but he knew of the human pains and sufferings – more than anyone else.
To be seen like that was a peculiar thing. Zhao Yuanzhou feels stripped down to his very core, and at the same time somehow grounded in himself, and warm, and acknowledged – for everything that he is, the whole story of him, the pain of him, and the life that has spanned over so many thousands of years, turning him from a mindless being that could barely understand what or who it was, to a demon, and then to an ancient beast that has grown a heart of his own and was suffering endlessly, never allowing happiness to creep into that deep freezing ocean, never allowing himself to warm up completely, despite his own force being fiery and hot and burning.
He feels a single tear glide across his pale cheek, and then another one, and one more.
“Zhao Yuanzhou…” Zhuo Yichen utters his name as if it were some kind of sacred ancient spell or a blessing. He was the one so infinitely old and experienced and wise, up to the point he felt tired of it, yet it was always Zhuo Yichen who made him feel so unapologetically alive. Like he was saving him , and not the other way round . Like he was the one who needed to be taken care of, forever and ever, until the end of times.
Zhao Yuanzhou doesn’t have the words to say it, or the courage to utter all this out loud. He has to lower his eyes, to be a little less seen, and recognized, and accepted with all his vices and wrongdoings, for he really, really deserved nothing like that. His vision is still watery, that truth spell working like some kind of curse bestowed upon him, both of them, by their beautiful Goddess. Zhuo Yichen may have granted him absolution out of the kindness of his own heart, and showed him a way to forgiveness of the infinite nature, but he himself couldn’t do it, couldn’t grant himself that. Not now, and probably not ever. He was the one not qualified to be with Xiao Zhuo, to touch, and kiss, and caress him. Yet somehow this silly boy managed to deceive himself into thinking he was the unworthy one.
Zhao Yuanzhou thinks, maybe it’s not too late to cleanse his qi from the magic and utter despair Wen Xiao has granted them both tonight, but he dares not move, feeling it hard to breathe and even to live for some reason. Just being became an act of sheer courage and indestructible willpower.
“Zhu Yan,” now he’s calling him by a different name, the one that is followed by a trickle of blood and dead bodies – of humans and demons alike. There are shadows dancing behind it, of the past, and that larger-than-life love that he had and that had ripped his heart into shreds, only to be broken later even further when the bloody moon came and he didn’t cope. He couldn’t, he wasn’t able to, and he wasn’t strong enough to resist. The depth of despair that followed is still lurking in the nooks and crannies of his tormented soul, making him swallow hard, feeling his eyes sting with tears, a few of them running down his cheeks like precious little gems. It all came crashing down on him like a waterfall of truth that he couldn’t bear to see, feel, and experience in its entirety like that. If he still had the Truth Eye… he would have probably gone mad by now.
He feels a gentle movement and a familiar prickly force that isn’t trying to fight him, just letting him know about its presence. Reminding him that there was something else in this moment, right here and now, and that choices could still be made, even if he was getting lost in the vastness of his own soul, even if his experience, which stretched for thousands of years, was making him weary of life, now more than ever.
“Come,” Zhuo Yichen says, stretching out his arm, and Zhao Yuanzhou spends a small eternity hypnotizing the palm of his hand before reaching out and taking it. He should be asking, where to, but he feels it doesn’t really matter at this point. He was seen, and acknowledged, and accepted, even when he himself couldn’t do it. Zhuo Yichen’s hand feels hot and strong in his own firm grip as they drift through the passageways and doorways and intricately decorated halls until they reach a familiar room and a familiar garden with a familiar bedroom that somehow feels like home just because it is his room and he , Zhao Yuanzhou has to admit to himself, feels much like the home he has never had.
“There are different types of truths,” Zhuo Yichen says, when they finally reach their destination, feeling some tension fading away, but a different one taking its place. He looks at Zhao Yuanzhou intensely, the magic still lingering, still dancing between them, or maybe it was something else entirely that made him seem so ethereal, so glowy with his own kind of light, and, for some reason, so warm, despite him looking worried, and also a little flushed. “This is one of them,” he says, and pulls Zhao Yuanzhou into the most delicate of hugs, as if he wasn’t an ancient eternal beast, a vessel to all the malicious energy in the world, but some frail being that required care and attention and acceptance, and goddess knows what else. He allows himself to be hugged like that one incredibly precious thing, imagining, if only for a moment, that he might be that to someone, to one young man who had such a clear mind and a beautiful soul, yet managed to mistake this ancient Great Demon for someone else. Someone worth loving, worth saving, and worth forgiving for all the sins he had committed.
“Xiao Zhuo,” he murmurs softly, wrapping his arms around the other man’s waist, feeling somehow calmer and almost at peace with himself that this, whatever it is, will soon end, just like all beautiful things were destined to disappear from the face of the earth, “What kind of truth is that?” he asks, feeling warm and cared for, which, he had to admit, felt incredibly nice.
“That I could never beat you in the sheer amount of regret and sorrow you can produce in a span of one second, so I won’t even try,” he chuckles, and that sound feels incredibly nice, too, as well as all other parts of him, filled with so much warmth and compassion and something a bit hotter than that which was now dancing around them in waves and flirty splashes of colours, “I’m just hoping some of those love potions Wen Xiao prepared for us are still working. To distract you from… that,” he says, and Zhao Yuanzhou has to admit that at least some of them must be still active judging from the way their hug goes from tender and warm to something slightly more exciting.
“ That … is me,” Zhao Yuanzhou has to say, not to give Zhuo Yichen any wrong ideas that he’s something else entirely. That was pretty much all he was, actually.
“But that is not all of you,” Zhuo Yichen says stubbornly and the Great Demon can only ‘m-hmm’ to that, realizing, that it’s nearly impossible to outstubborn this particular demon hunter. Especially now, and maybe not ever. He allows himself to relax into the hug some more, feeling the tension in their bodies giving place to something else entirely. It was mellow, and sweet, and gentle, and it didn’t require them to think too much about it, or about anything else for that matter.
“How come you always end up being the strong one?” Zhao Yuanzhou almost whispers into his shoulder, finding the other man’s smell becoming more and more enticing. It was something that belonged to him and him only – a faint whiff of herbs he used for his bath and a barely-there flowery smell of the oils he used for hair. The deeper undertones were fresher, colder, reminding him of the wintery midnight forests and high mountain peaks covered with snow. Of warm furry creatures moving in the blizzard almost immune to the stingy icicles falling from the sky. Of long dragon bodies, elegant and exquisite, sprawled in the sky, crossing time and space, with their tails as long as eternity itself. Despite Bing Yi force leaving its chilly mark on him, like frosty patterns on the surface of a lake, right now he was the opposite of freezing, their bodies somehow producing enough heat to make their embrace pleasantly warm, now bordering on hot.
“It’s just a habit I picked up along the way,” Zhuo Yichen says simply, but Zhao Yuanzhou can tell just how much heaviness and his own history is hiding behind that ‘way’ he uttered so casually. And how much loneliness and pain he had to endure growing up into the man that he is today. So strong, and caring, and tender, despite all the power that he learned how to channel and was learning still. Despite that very power trying to break him every now and then, molding him into something, someone he was yet to become. Will he still want to hug Zhao Yuanzhou... then? Will he still touch his hair so reverently, although he was the one who made fun of it what now seems like a lifetime ago? Zhao Yuanzhou decides to leave that future to the gods and goddesses and other ancient beings. He might as well just enjoy whatever he has here, and that is much more than he could ever hope for before.
“Where does it leave me, then?” he asks playfully, trying not to spark another wave of anguish, which seemed to be quite typical to the both of them. What made things infinitely better was the fact that they both were aware of it, at least to some extent. Learning to navigate each other’s deep unmapped waters filled with beasts of unknown kinds and origins was probably what relationships were all about. At last, the ones with 34,000-year-old demons. It was a dangerous path for any human to embark on, but Zhuo Yichen was definitely the most extraordinary man. And maybe, not entirely human, too.
Zhuo Yichen pulls back a little to look him in the eyes, and what a look it is – so open, and caring, and attentive, like he is searching for an actual, real answer inside of himself to that question which could have been easily brushed off as a joke.
‘That truth spell,’ Zhao Yuanzhou thinks, getting lost in his magnetic gaze for a few long moments, ‘...is something else. Or maybe he has always been like that. Just… way too honest.’ As if echoing his thoughts, Zhuo Yichen’s stare becomes even more intense, with a whole Universe of sweeter undertones that could have turned even the sternest of demons into a warm puddle of glee, and Zhao Yuanzhou had to admit to himself that he wasn’t stern at all, quite the opposite of that.
“That leaves you… beautiful, and precious… and ancient,” Zhuo Yichen’s mouth twitches just a little and there’s a familiar mischievous glint in his eyes that makes Zhao Yuanzhou’s heart fill up with joy to the brim. This was good, this was better than anything else in the world to see him so playful and relaxed.
“So… basically what you’re saying is that… I’m old,” Zhao Yuanzhou raises his eyebrows as if not expecting such an unseemly compliment if that could even be considered as one. He presses his lips together trying not to laugh, but his face still gives it away, making Zhuo Yichen smile in return.
“Well… you are old, I don’t think even you can deny that fact,” he points out, still amused but a little less than before, “But you’re missing the point,” he looks somehow determined to make Zhao Yuanzhou believe that it’s not just something that he thinks, or just the way he perceives him, but the most ultimate of the ultimate truths.
‘Beautiful and precious’ is what he said before they turned it into a joke.
“I think you might be under too many love potions,” Zhao Yuanzhou says softly, still trying to leave him a way out of this, all of this, and most importantly, him, the Great Demon who has lived for too long and has seen too much and has known grief and sorrow as deep and bottomless as time itself.
“Not nearly enough,” Zhuo Yichen says, searching his face as if trying to find an answer there to a question he hasn’t asked yet, “I don’t think I can articulate this properly. The words have been getting hazy lately. Maybe… because I’m lacking sleep,” he does seem to be searching for words as if they were playful little kittens that were somehow escaping him. Xiao Zhuo was a man of action, but when he did talk, it was always on point, and more piercing than even his bright-blue gaze. To see him stumble like that to describe whatever it is that he’s feeling toward Zhao Yuanzhou just made the Great Demon want to kiss him so bad – immediately, so his gaze travels to the other man’s lips, once again, just like so many times before, making it hard to focus on anything else, really.
Maybe it’s because of all those nights he spent guarding his dreams as best as he could, or maybe those love potions were acting up a bit, or maybe it were those countless times he would touch him applying ointment, watching and feeling Xiao Zhuo blush so hard… It was a bit cruel of him, he thinks, teasing Zhuo Yichen like that. And he, himself, didn’t fully realize why exactly he was doing it. So that Xiao Zhuo would come to him on his own. So that the consequences and the responsibility for whatever happened next, good or bad, wouldn’t lie on Zhao Yuanzhou’s shoulders. He’s a petty old demon, that’s what he is. Afraid to break something ‘precious and beautiful’ of his own, not realizing, that the torture itself might be destroying him just as well.
Zhuo Yichen lets out a small sigh under his burning gaze, really unable to articulate this, whatever it is, his eyes shining brighter than the stars on a moonless night. Courting a 34,000-year-old demon was definitely not something they would write about in the books. Or teach at some human schools. Or speak about in general. Zhao Yuanzhou raises his hand and touches Zhuo Yichen’s cheek, and caresses it with his fingertips, just letting him know, so that whatever he does next doesn’t come as a complete shock, so that he could always turn away if he wanted to. Zhao Yuanzhou wasn’t afraid of being rejected – he was afraid that once he started, he would never be able to stop. And this feeling, larger than the world itself, would crush him, both of them, because of how unbearable it is, heavy with longing and suppressed desire and the need to touch and be touched, feverishly, to explore and be explored, to kiss and be kissed in return. He tastes Zhuo Yichen’s lips merely touching them with his own, almost waiting to be pushed away, but that never happens. He’s welcomed with a soft gasp and as Zhuo Yichen opens his mouth just a little, Zhao Yuanzhou knows, just like he has always known somewhere deep down inside, that the other man would ‘never say no to him,’ he was just too unsure, too afraid to ever make the first step, so vulnerable and sensitive that he is.
And Zhao Yuanzhou failed to see it because of his own pains and fears and uncertainties. That he was already seen and there was nothing he could do about it. Apart from finally seeing Zhuo Yichen in return – in his youth, in his love, in his openness, and his own kind of pain. In that very darkness he was facing every night. In his own evolution that would have crushed anyone else if they were to experience something like it. Zhao Yuanzhou kisses those lips forgetting himself just a little, drinking up all those fears, and uncertainties, and midnight horrors, and whatever made Zhuo Yichen’s heart race, all frightened, after another one of his nightmares. Now his heart is racing for another reason altogether, making Zhao Yuanzhou smile as he pulls back just to look at him, to take in his blessedly relaxed face and fluttering eye-lashes when he finally opens his eyes, with that deep-blue force swirling inside of his irises, so magnificently beautiful. So undeniably precious.
“This is… much better than words,” Zhuo Yichen says, looking open, and sensitive, and also, so pleased with himself. As if he, too, was teasing Zhao Yuanzhou into doing something like this, so it really was just a matter of time who would budge first. The Great Demon was happy that he did it first, though, for both their sakes. And that one Goddess who has actually started losing her sleep over all of this.
“Zhao Yuanzhou,” he adds, deliciously low, and his gaze drops to the Great Demon’s lips leaving no doubt whatsoever as to what he would say next, making the other man’s heart go into a race of its own, “Would you like to… indulge me some more?” he asks, looking nearly innocent, almost, but not quite. Whether it was the effect of all those potions or of Zhuo Yichen simply being himself, after spending maybe a little too much time with one wicked Great Demon, Zhao Yuanzhou wasn’t about to question it. They move to the bed, and this time, dreams have nothing on Zhuo Yichen. He falls asleep properly hugged, and kissed, and caressed in all possible ways, that even his Bing Yi force lays to rest without bothering him even a little. Or maybe, just maybe, this is what it was trying to tell him all along?
Zhao Yuanzhou watches Zhuo Yichen’s face in his sleep out of habit, now more relaxed than he has seen him in weeks if not months. Or maybe not ever. He traces his chin, and neck, and collarbones, until Zhao Yuanzhou’s fingers reach his heart, and that’s where he lays his hand to rest, lulled by the sweet music of it, plain and simple, his very own testament to being alive. He closes his eyes – not to sleep, but to have a few dreams of his own. This night, his energy guards Zhuo Yichen from unwanted sleepy encounters – in a way that it couldn’t before. Their forces mix and dance with each other for some more time, but soon they, too, find their perfect balance, a beautiful equilibrium, and stay like that – for now, and maybe, forever.
Zhao Yuanzhou wakes up to the feeling of gentle lips pressed to his fingers and then – to the palm of his hand, warm breath caressing his skin. He smiles, realizing he has drifted into the Dream Realm somewhere in the course of the night, and what a sweet way it was to come back, be called back, pulled into this very existence that hasn’t been anything but pain for so many years. Things have changed now, in a multitude of beautiful ways. Many of them have become so evident and clear and deliciously sultry that he could no longer ignore them. Yet others they will still have to explore, together, discovering where this path they have chosen would lead them. There was no turning back now, and this simple truth made Zhao Yuanzhou's heart sing with joy he has long forgotten even existed in this world.
Zhuo Yichen looks soft, and delicate, and for some reason more careful now than ever before. The morning is still yet to come, the dim light of the dawn painting everything in dark shades of navy blue, with only a promise that sunlight would come sometime soon, warming up the whole world, granting life and light and hope to all the living beings. For the first time in a long while Zhao Yuanzhou feels he has enough light right here, with him, that even the sun has nothing on him.
“Can I touch you now?” Zhuo Yichen asks gingerly as if he is still somehow not sure this is all real and not some kind of dream he will soon wake up from into a harsher, sadder reality of their lives. They still might, but if that happens, they will do it together. Zhao Yuanzhou caresses his face with his fingertips, letting him know that from now on he can touch him as much as he wants.
“I could never say ‘no’ to you,” he murmurs with a barely-there hint of delight in his eyes, and then he feels breathless as Zhuo Yichen reverently touches his cheek in return, and his chin, and the curve of his neck, as if he were some kind of god who has entered the human realm in this divine form and bestowed all his unimaginable graces onto him and him alone. To be seen like this, and touched, and caressed made his heart ache in ways that should have been impossible at this point, but it felt oh-so-pleasant, the kind of sensation that made him inhale deeply and move in just a little bit closer, his own hand reaching out to trace the curve of Xiao Zhuo’s waist, going all the way up across his chest, watching him swallow excitedly, the closeness they’re sharing still making him nervous yet thrilled, that they are actually this now, whatever it is, and it feels and tastes like nothing he has ever experienced before. As far as divine beings were concerned, Zhao Yuanzhou was sure that this young man, his man, belonged to their kind, even if he himself no longer remembered being all that.
“Xiao Zhuo,” he whispers, suddenly losing his eloquence as well, just like the other man did the night before, and gasps lightly when Zhuo Yichen finds his way to his neck, leaving a trace of deliciously hot kisses on his skin, warming him up from inside with the delicate power of it – surrendering to the desire of the other one, so gentle, yet hungry for more.
“You took your time, Great Demon,” Zhuo Yichen murmurs, taking a moment to glance into his face with his gaze slightly unfocused, with his lips a little plumper than usual, with his skin hot and glowing in the dim light of the morning that was still too lazy to brighten up and start the day. Zhao Yuanzhou doesn’t want this moment to end, but he knows that the next one will be infinitely more delicious, and the one after that.
“I was afraid,” he says earnestly as if still under the influence of that truth spell sprinkled with a bunch of love potions and goddess knows what else. It seems they don’t really need any of that to witness the nakedness of their hearts and souls, to reveal and be seen by each other, “Of what this might do to you. To us,” he adds, because just as much as he was scared for Xiao Zhuo, for the brilliance of his soul, for that kind heart that knew no boundaries, and for the innocence that sometimes graced his face, lighting it up from within, he was afraid for himself, too. To be broken all over again. To let someone into his heart, albeit knowing that it has already happened, it was just a matter of acting upon it, all of it. Or silently suffering in the stillness of his own soul, forever and ever, deeming himself unworthy to experience happiness, and care, and love ever again.
“Are you still afraid?” Zhuo Yichen traces a strand of Zhao Yuanzhou’s hair like it was made of silk or some equally precious fabric, and kisses it lightly, as if making it his mission to kiss this Great Demon from head to toe and then some more. Zhao Yuanzhou doesn’t answer that, thinking, that human words are great, but sometimes they are, truly, useless, and draws him in for yet another soft touching of lips, letting his tongue get more playful, letting Zhuo Yichen know, without words, that whatever fears he might still have, they don’t matter, not now, and probably never will.
Their morning tea is sprinkled with badly hidden glee and suppressed I-knew-it-would-work kind of smugness that Wen Xiao did her best to conceal, but judging by Pei Sijing’s smile, she was doing a pretty awful job of it. The other woman casts a laughing glance at her and looks at the two men, impeccably dressed, looking relaxed beyond all possible measure, sitting next to each other as if nothing has happened, nothing at all. Ying Lei pours them all some tea, and then covers his mouth with a hand, smiling mischievously, and doesn’t even pretend not to stare at the chain of love bites adorning Zhao Yuanzhou’s pale neck like some kind of exquisite ornaments or regal decorations he wouldn’t exchange for anything else in this world. Wen Xiao knows that he could make them disappear with just one whiff of his demonic power, yet he chose not to, making Xiao Zhuo cast burning glances at him from time to time, drawn in by the beauty of him, of what they were having together.
“Last night’s tea was delightful,” Xiao Zhuo says courteously, a sweet smile lighting up his face, making him more stunning than ever. Bai Jiu looks at him with his jaw dropping slightly, moving his gaze between his most precious Ge and one Great Demon who, for some reason, today seemed softer than the softest of silks, with his eyes catching sparkles of some distant sunlight. Wen Xiao feels the corners of her mouth rise despite her best efforts.
“Yes, it was a truly exquisite batch,” Zhao Yuanzhou confirms, looking so dignified, yet also amused and, dare she say, happy with everything that happened. She thinks it might very well be the best use of that extensive library they have in the Demon Hunting Bureau she has ever come up with.
Both men cast a glance at her, each amused beyond all possible measure, letting her know that they knew, yet they still decided to play along – for their sake, and for hers as well.
Wen Xiao lets out a small sigh of relief.
Well then, hopefully, this means they won’t get angry with her special morning tea as well. She smiles brightly at everyone, catching Ying Lei’s delighted gaze, and winks at him. They were alright, finally, all of them. And things were going to only get better after that.