Archive of Our Own

The first thing Yin Yu registered upon coming to was the heaviness he felt. He could feel the dip of the mattress beneath him; the weight to his limbs as he struggled to find the energy to move. The room was deathly quiet around him, plunged into darkness. He couldn’t even feel his own heartbeat; his chest no longer rose and fell with quiet breaths.

It was cold.

He sluggishly blinked his eyes open with some effort, his vision hazy and blurred. The more he blinked, the more the ceiling above him came into focus. Dull red light from the lanterns outside illuminated his bedroom, giving him just enough to see in the dark. He turned his head slowly, the rest of the room coming into view. 

He was home. His mask was placed neatly on his desk; his unfinished paperwork left in their neat stacks where he’d last left off before having to leave. His blanket was pulled up neatly to his chest, doing little to keep him warm but still comforting nonetheless. It was almost as if he’d simply woken up after a bad dream, carried to his room after passing out from exhaustion. He knew that was the farthest thing from the truth. 

His eyebrows knitted with exertion as he forced his body to move, his arms shakily pushing himself up in the bed with a great amount of effort. The blanket fell from his chest, pooling at his waist as he leaned back against the headboard. He raised a shaky arm to eye level, the sleeve sliding down to reveal a ghostly pale wrist. A pale wrist marred with a scar where a cursed shackle should have been. He turned it, his tired eyes inspecting it thoroughly. 

Memories of his passing came back swiftly, his arm dropping back to his side. That was it, then. For some unimaginable reason, he’d clawed his way back from death. Why was he still here? What sort of lingering regret could he possibly still have?

He could hardly get his own body to move now. If he’d felt useless back then as a former martial god with no spiritual power left, he’d certainly felt useless now. What was the point in all of this?

He almost missed the sound of his door opening, his head turning just enough to glance over at the unexpected visitor. The visitor who, upon first glance, filled Yin Yu’s entire body with dread. Quan Yizhen stared at him from the doorway, his eyes widened with surprise. He’d held a tray with a tea set and sliced pieces of peach, the sound of clamoring porcelain the only sign that Yizhen was trembling. 

Of all the people he expected to randomly visit his room in Paradise Manor, Yizhen was the least. Hua Cheng had made sure to keep him out per his request, never once allowing him to get too close. So why was he here? Why was he visiting with tea and peach slices like it was the most natural thing in the world? Had his scathing words towards him before death fallen upon deaf ears?

Where he expected Yizhen to drop everything and run towards him, Yizhen did the opposite. He stood there silently, his gaze piercing through Yin Yu as he stared at him like he was about to cry. Like he’d just seen rain after a long drought. 

“Shixiong,” he said quietly, an uncertainty to his tone that hadn’t gone unnoticed. “You’re awake.”

His hesitation was so unlike the Quan Yizhen he remembered, bounding up to him with no reservation. He no longer said “Shixiong” with the same excited energy he’d always carried with him, opting instead to be quieter. More hesitant, like a single wrong move would send Yin Yu running away.

He wouldn’t have been entirely wrong. If he had been able to, he would’ve already been out the window. He couldn’t bring his body to move more than he’d already gotten it to, his energy all but spent from simply sitting himself up in bed. 

He remained quiet, focusing his attention instead on his lap rather than Yizhen’s face. He didn’t want him there. He didn’t want Yizhen anywhere near him. 

Yizhen was used to the silence from him; he pressed on anyway. “I brought some tea and peach slices for you. I remembered they were your favorite.” He paused, peeling his gaze away from Yin Yu to focus on the things he’d laid out on the tray. 

“You’ve been asleep for so long, I normally just ate them myself… But you’re awake now. Would you like to try some?” He offered. “If you have trouble, I can help. Crimson Rain said you might be a little weak when you first wake up, so–”

“I don’t need your help,” Yin Yu interjected, cutting him off. He didn’t need to be told by Yizhen that he was weak right now, and he certainly didn’t want to stomach the humiliation that came with being taken care of in such a way. He wasn’t that frail.

Though Yin Yu rejected his offer for help, he didn’t reject the tea and food outright. Yizhen took that as a positive sign and approached slowly, sitting down on a chair that Yin Yu just now realized was pulled up close beside his bed. He held the tray out for him to take expectantly. Yin Yu immediately realized he may have made a mistake. 

He forced his arms up, trembling as he reached for the tray. The contents shook as he struggled to hold it upright even with Yizhen still gently supporting it from beneath. It was too heavy; he just didn’t have the strength for it. His pointed ears subconsciously lowered in frustration. With Yizhen’s support he’d managed to place it down on his lap, but he’d lost his appetite. 

All he’d felt was exhausted. Even with Yizhen’s help despite his refusal, he’d struggled. He hated it. He hated feeling so useless.

“Shixiong…” Yizhen wasn’t blind. Though Yin Yu said nothing, the upset was written clearly in his expression; in the way his ears tilted downwards.

Yin Yu turned his head away, hiding his face from view. The tea and peach slices were left untouched.

—

Yizhen continued to visit nearly every day despite his best attempts to ignore him. Sometimes he’d approach with more tea and snacks, leaving them on Yin Yu’s lap expectantly waiting for them to be eaten. Other days he’d simply sit down on the chair left by his bedside, filling the silence with his voice as he talked about whatever came to mind. His day, the nap he took, the way the servants looked at him as they passed by. 

He’d left the tea and snacks untouched. He ignored Yizhen’s rambling, instead choosing to lay back and close his eyes. He couldn’t understand why Yizhen continued to persist despite his clear refusal. Why he kept coming back to offer food and talk when all he was met with was dead silence. 

His ear twitched as he heard the sound of his door opening, the corners of his lips turning downwards in displeasure. He didn’t need to look to know it was Yizhen once again. Quick, heavy footsteps grew louder as he approached, his armor clanking as he sat down. It seemed he’d just come from a mission, then.

“Shixiong.” Yizhen broke the silence, his voice light. He lacked the hesitation he’d shown the first day Yin Yu woke up. Perhaps he realized there was no chance of him being scared off. “I talked with Crimson Rain earlier.” 

His brows knitted as Hua Cheng was mentioned once again, his frown deepening in thought. Yizhen had mentioned him a number of times in the past, from the first time they spoke again up until now. He didn’t know why his close friend and employer would even give Yizhen the time of day, let alone allow him within the halls of Paradise Manor. Within his room.

“It’s been a couple of weeks now,” Yizhen continued, watching Yin Yu carefully from his seat on the chair. “He suggested I take you out for fresh air.” 

Yin Yu didn’t like where this was going in the slightest. 

“So I thought… What if we went out on a walk together? It’s spring right now, and the tree out in the courtyard by your room bloomed recently. It’s really pretty… I figured we could see it together this time.” Yizhen asked, calmly explaining the reasoning behind his choice.

He remained silent, lowering his head as he carefully thought the idea over. 

“Oh, but Crimson Rain said you might have a hard time walking on your own. You could use my arm for support, or I could carry–”

“I don’t need your help. I can walk on my own.” He’d interrupted Yizhen once again, displeased with the idea of being carried by him of all people. The thought that they believed he was incapable of doing something as simple as walking frustrated him. 

He reached for the corner of his blanket, tossing it off of him haphazardly in irritation. He pushed himself up, forcing his body to move more than he’d ever pushed it over the past couple of weeks. He stood unsteadily on both legs, his hand using the headboard of the bed for support as he stabilized himself just enough to stop shaking.

He took a step forward, nearly falling forward as he stumbled. Yizhen quickly stood from his chair, wrapping an arm around Yin Yu’s for support before he could fall. Yin Yu tried to pull his arm away, only to feel Yizhen tighten his hold just enough to keep him from slipping.

“Shixiong…” Yizhen frowned, his tone placating. “It’s okay, I really don’t mind.” 

‘But I do! Why don’t you understand that?!’ Yin Yu wanted to snap. He’d reluctantly given in instead, pausing his attempts at struggling. He used his free hand to reach for the mask left on his desk, pulling the band around his head. He let the porcelain mask cover his face, hiding it from view.

He felt safer that way. Less exposed.

Yizhen waited patiently at his side for him to finish putting his mask on, smiling warmly. Yin Yu lowered his gaze to the ground once he was done, taking another unsteady step forward. He subconsciously leaned against Yizhen’s arm for support as he pulled him along, one step at a time. Yizhen didn’t dare say anything as they continued to walk.

It took them far longer than it should’ve to make it to the courtyard near his room. His legs felt heavier the longer he walked, weighed down by invisible weights. The sting of exhaustion burned his eyes beneath the mask uncomfortably, making his lack of energy known. He pushed himself forward regardless, ignoring the way his body protested each movement he made. 

By the time he made it to the tree, he finally pulled his arm free from Yizhen’s hold and all but collapsed onto the ground. He leaned his back against the trunk, sighing heavily as he raised his head to look up towards the leaves. The subtle glow of the red lanterns around Paradise Manor illuminated the leaves in the dark, giving him just enough light to see the blossoms that decorated the branches. 

Though he’d seen this tree in passing multiple times over the centuries he’d spent working in Ghost City, the sight never got old. Yizhen was right; it was beautiful.

“I used to sit here a lot when I stayed in Ghost City.” Yizhen’s voice filled the silence. At some point Yizhen had managed to quietly sit beside him beneath the tree without him noticing, catching him off guard. “I was told you used to like sitting in this courtyard in your off-time, so I wanted to give it a try.” 

“...I did.” Yin Yu offered quietly, closing his eyes. He missed the way Yizhen’s eyes sparkled at finally being responded to, even though Yin Yu had sounded so tired as he did so.

“I understood why you liked it so much.” Yin Yu could hear the way Yizhen’s tone lightened up. “It’s quiet and comfortable, not a lot of people came by. It’s nice and cool during the summer too…” 

Yin Yu nodded his head as Yizhen continued to talk, the exhaustion weighing heavily against him. He’d spent most of his energy just walking here, even with Yizhen’s unwanted assistance. He sluggishly blinked his eyes open, struggling to force himself awake. He couldn’t fall asleep here—least of all next to Yizhen.

“I came here once with your lantern. I think you liked being here too, because your ghost flame brightened up a little once I sat down here.” Yin Yu had stopped truly listening to him by then; Yizhen’s voice was lulling him to sleep. His thoughts were scattered, the words he was hearing muffled.

His eyes blinked shut, his body leaning to the side as he quickly fell into a deep sleep. He was left blissfully unaware of how his head had fallen on Yizhen’s shoulder, his body leaning against his side as he slept.

—

He felt light. 

Vague, hazy images flitted through his vision. Most of the time it was nothing but pure darkness. Other times, he would see a blurry silhouette of bright gold and dark curly hair. Sometimes there were bright splashes of red and the muffled clamor of noise that made it sound like he was underwater. Rarely did he hold consciousness long enough to make sense of what was going on around him.

Today was not one of those days.

Pink petals slowly drifted down from the tree above them, painting the ground around them a vibrant green with splotches of soft pink. They were sitting beneath the tree in the courtyard he liked outside of his room in Paradise Manor during the height of spring, the moon bright overhead. 

Yizhen’s arms were wrapped around his paper lantern, hugging him close as he pulled his knees as close to his chest as he could. His ghost flame hovered close, chasing the warmth subconsciously. He didn’t have the energy to speak or move very far, forced to be an observer.

“Shixiong?” He heard Yizhen’s voice tremble. He felt the arms wrap a little tighter around the lantern, hugging him closer. “Are you awake?”

The only sound that followed was the rustling of the leaves in the breeze. Not a single word was carried by the wind. 

“I asked Crimson Rain what places you liked when you lived here…” Yizhen started. His voice was quieter, more hesitant with his words. There was no confidence, no excitement that Yin Yu was so used to hearing from him. He sounded unsure, as if a single wrong word would mean failure. “He scoffed and said that if I truly wanted to find out, that I would figure it out myself. But when I left I saw one of his silver butterflies. It even led me here before flying off…” 

Yin Yu’s ghost flame flickered, but all Yizhen was met with was silence. 

“When I got close, you got a little brighter again. Does that mean you liked it here?” He asked. Yin Yu couldn’t see his expression, but he could feel Yizhen’s piercing gaze on him. He could almost imagine those starry, bright eyes that looked up to him like he was the most powerful person in the world. “It’s a really pretty spot. Even though it’s always so dark in Ghost City, it’s a little bright here.” 

That was true. The courtyard was lit up just enough that he could enjoy sitting out there for fresh air whether it was day or night. The blossoming tree and blooming flowers nearby only added to the relaxing atmosphere; it was a perfect spot to rest after a long day at his desk. Of course… He couldn’t explain that to Yizhen.

“Shixiong… If I keep taking you to spots you like, will you come back..?” Yizhen’s voice grew quieter. He could hear the way it began to tremble. “It’s been a few years already, and I’ve already gotten scolded for using too much spiritual energy more than once..”

There was a long pause. He could hear a shaky inhale beside him; feel the shaking of Yizhen’s arms around him.

“They told me to be patient. That I can’t rush it, that you have to find your own reason to stay as a ghost…” The walls around the lantern grew tighter around him as the lantern was held even closer. He was fading fast, his consciousness slipping. 

“I know that.” He breathed out, his lower lip wobbling as he continued. “But I miss you. I miss you so much, Shixiong.” 

Guilt washed over him. The vibrant scene was fading into a blurry mess of greens and pink around him. Yizhen’s words grew muffled, near unintelligible as his ghost flame began to dim. He couldn’t fight against it; he couldn’t keep himself awake.

“Please come back… I don’t know what to do without you—”

Yin Yu bolted upright, a cold sweat drenching his forehead. He didn’t register the burn of his muscles from the sudden movement, or the feeling of the blanket pooling at his waist where it had fallen from his shoulders. It had taken him a moment longer than necessary to realize that he was back in his bedroom, laid on his bed rather than against the trunk of the tree in that courtyard.

The courtyard he and Yizhen had visited together on their shared walk.

Lingering fragments of the dream replayed in his head, a blurry mess of what they once were. The feeling of warmth remained, a crease appearing between his eyebrows in thought. His memories were brought back to when he’d gone on his walk with Yizhen, to the time they spent sitting beneath the tree together. 

“I came here once with your lantern. I think you liked being here too…” Yizhen had said then, right before he’d fallen unconscious. 

Was that what that dream was? Was it really a memory? Yizhen had seemed so quiet then, his voice strained. All of that effort… and for what? Why would he pour so much time and energy into someone he knew disliked him? He lowered his head, balling his hands into fists.

He was so lost. He didn’t understand Yizhen’s actions in the slightest. Everything up until now made no sense. 

He didn’t hear the knock at his door as he lost himself in his thoughts. Another knock sounded a little louder, going unheard. After being met with silence, the door creaked open on its own. The sound of wooden wheels crossing the threshold pushed him out of his thoughts, his head snapping up at the sudden intrusion. 

Yizhen had come back, an empty wooden wheelchair in front of him. Yizhen’s expression carried a gentle smile on his lips as he approached, though Yin Yu’s attention was towards the object he was pushing around. The frame was simple, made to be pushed around by another person. He’d placed a small cushion on the seat for comfort, the padding thin but supposedly less uncomfortable than sitting down on the wood alone.

It was clear that it was meant for him. His eyes narrowed, his frown deepening ever so slightly. 

“Shixiong, good morning.” Yizhen lowered his head in greeting. His gaze went unnoticed by Yin Yu, studying his expression for any changes. “How are you feeling?” 

“...I’m tired.” Yin Yu answered honestly for once, his voice quiet. For a moment, Yizhen thought he’d misheard. His smile widened a little as he realized Yin Yu responded to him, seeing it as encouragement. 

“That’s okay.” Yizhen reassured, approaching a little closer. “Shixiong won’t need to do much today.”

Yin Yu fell silent, flicking his gaze up towards Yizhen.

“I wanted to take you out to the city today, but I figured you would get tired walking so far… So I found a solution.” He stepped aside, gesturing towards the wheelchair. “All you’ll have to do is sit. I can handle the rest.”

“No.” Yin Yu rejected the idea bluntly, turning his head away. “I’m not incapable, I can walk on my own.”

“But Shixiong, you got so tired the last time you walked a short distance…” Yizhen tried to counter with an observation of his own, his smile falling. 

“That’s not important.” Yin Yu brushed it off, crossing his arms against his chest. “I said no. If I want to get somewhere, I’ll walk by myself. I don’t need or want your help.”

Yizhen seemed to deflate a little with each word; he took a step back. Yin Yu expected him to keep arguing, to stubbornly persist despite his blatant refusal, but there was none. Tense silence filled the air between them, so thick it could be cut with a knife.

“...Alright. That’s okay.” Yizhen broke the silence after a moment, holding his head low for a moment. “I understand.”

He slowly raised his head back up, forcing a small smile. It was clear he was trying to hide how he truly felt. 

A small pang of guilt coursed through him at the sight. Yin Yu turned his head away, avoiding Yizhen entirely. 

By the time he looked back, Yizhen was already gone.

—

“That martial god hasn’t shown up in a couple of days now,” Hua Cheng commented casually from where he leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed against his chest.

Yin Yu sat on a bench not too far away, a silver butterfly resting against the back of his hand. The wings shimmered in the sunlight as they fluttered. He watched it quietly, the dark circles around his eyes pronounced against his paler-than-usual skin.

“I sent him off.” He answered after a moment of delay, looking up tiredly. 

The two of them had gone on a walk per Hua Cheng’s request. It was rare that he was around Paradise Manor, much less in a mood to interact with him beyond handing him more work. The temperature was comfortably warm with a light breeze, a perfect day for a stroll around the courtyards surrounding the manor while they talked.

The only issue was that Yin Yu couldn’t make it very far before he needed to rest.

“You sent him off?” Hua Cheng repeated calmly, raising an eyebrow as if encouraging him to go on.

“He came into my room the other day with a wheelchair, insisting on having me use it. I told him I didn’t want his help, and he’d left. He hasn’t come back since.” Yin Yu explained in a little more detail, a small crease appearing between his brows in irritation. 

It had only gotten harder to accept how difficult it was to do anything. He couldn’t walk long distances without getting tired, he couldn’t hold his brush for longer than an hour before his hand started to tremble. He’d sleep for far too long and stay awake for far too little. Even as days passed, nothing seemed to improve. 

“I don’t see what’s so wrong with a wheelchair.” Hua Cheng shrugged, the silver jewelry jingling with the movement. “It sounds like a rather smart idea to me.”

“Chengzhu.” Yin Yu slowly turned his head to look at him, the butterfly on his hand forgotten. His small pointed ears had lowered ever so slightly in displeasure. Why was he agreeing with it?

“Yin Yu.” Hua Cheng responded in that cool, languid tone of his. “We haven’t had a chance to walk through the gardens yet you still requested to sit down and rest. You look exhausted already.” He pointed out.

Yin Yu fell silent. He couldn’t even attempt to argue against it; it was true. Where their walks before had usually lasted quite a while, this one could hardly reach half a shichen. He turned his head away, ashamed at the thought.

“Maintaining a physical form as a ghost isn’t easy.” Hua Cheng added after a pause of silence. “There’s nothing wrong with relying on others and accepting help when it’s offered. It might even help you recover faster. You won’t get far pushing yourself past your limits.” 

The silver butterfly fluttered its wings once more before taking flight, flying around the garden before heading back into the comfort of Hua Cheng’s silver vambraces. Yin Yu didn’t respond for a long pause, his gaze distant.

“You’re saying I should accept his offer?” He finally broke the silence to ask.

“That’s entirely up to you, it’s not my decision to make. It’s your recovery, after all.” Hua Cheng turned his head, feigning disinterest in the conversation. Despite his bored expression, Yin Yu could see the faint hint of concern in the way he held himself.

He meant every word he said.

“I think I understand.” Yin Yu lowered his head, placing his palms down on the bench. He pushed himself upright with some difficulty, standing unsteadily. He’d rested enough to keep going a little while longer. “Thank you, Chengzhu.”

Hua Cheng acknowledged his words with a slow nod, approaching to step in line beside him. He patiently waited for Yin Yu to start walking, keeping a steady pace at his side. 

—

The wooden wheels of the wheelchair creaked as he was pushed along the uneven streets of Ghost City, damp with puddles and mud from rainfall. He kept his head lowered and hands rested neatly on his lap, his shoulders tense with unease. Loud chattering and advertising shouts drowned out any other noise, a faint red haze lighting up the city during the middle of the night. The air smelled strongly of street food, a faint hint of the earthy scent of fresh rain beneath it. 

Occasionally a ghost would stop to greet them, cheerfully exclaiming how glad they were that the Waning Moon Officer was back. That they’d missed him in his absence. He cowered behind his mask, nodding stiffly in quiet thanks as they moved along. 

He felt uncomfortably vulnerable for what felt like the millionth time since awaking as a weak ghost. He wished he could have stayed at Paradise Manor and worked on the papers stacked on his desk instead, but Hua Cheng and Yizhen both insisted he go out. He regretted accepting the suggestion even after the degree of resistance he had.

Through it all, Yizhen’s voice was the clearest. He spoke from behind as he pushed the wheelchair, pointing out everything he thought was interesting. The stalls that sold bizarre items, the increase in food stalls selling food safe for human consumption since His Highness Xie Lian started visiting more frequently, the fortune teller down the street—it seemed like he had an endless number of things to talk about.

“Oh, Shixiong, look!” Yizhen exclaimed yet again, pointing off in one direction. “While you were still a ghost flame, I went to that restaurant with you. Crimson Rain said that you used to like eating there a lot.” 

He turned his head slightly, following his finger to the location he was pointing at. He recognized it immediately. Nestled between two larger buildings was the small restaurant, hidden away in one of the quieter streets of Ghost City. When had Yizhen turned away from the main street? He must have been spaced out. 

“The auntie that owns that place is really nice. When I told her I was your shidi, she offered to make some dishes with peaches in them for me to give to you.” Yizhen added. “She missed you too, Shixiong.”

He didn’t respond. It hadn’t truly registered until he was taken out into the city just how many people cared about him enough to miss him. He’d always thought he was invisible, simply doing his job per orders. It seemed he was wrong. 

The tension in his shoulders eased ever so slightly. For a brief moment, he thought he felt a small warmth in his chest. 

Yizhen continued to push him along the backstreets of the city, choosing to avoid the crowds while enjoying the quieter scenery. As they reached the outskirts, the wheelchair started to grow a little shakier on the uneven roads, until it had stopped entirely. Yizhen tried to push him along further, but the wheels had sunk into a firm puddle of mud and refused to budge. He furrowed his eyebrows in frustration before quickly coming to a solution.

“Shixiong, the wheelchair got stuck.” He said bluntly, stepping away from the handles at the back. He approached the front, pausing by Yin Yu’s side. “I won’t be able to get it out right now.” 

Why wasn’t he surprised? Yin Yu sighed heavily, bracing himself against the armrests of the chair. He could just walk, then. The trip to Paradise Manor from the outskirts of the city wasn’t too long, he was sure he could make it if he’d just pushed himself a little. Yizhen didn’t seem inclined to agree with his idea.

“I can carry you back.” He offered, though it sounded less like a suggestion and more like a statement. As if he were waiting for Yin Yu to simply offer his hand and give him permission.

“No.” Yin Yu rejected. “I don’t need to be carried.” 

“But Shixiong, the walk back to Paradise Manor is far…” Yizhen tried to insist, reaching out regardless. Why was he so insistent on carrying him?

“Yizhen, I said no.” Yin Yu repeated firmly.

“Shixiong…” Yizhen hesitated, hovering around him as he unsteadily stood from the wheelchair. Yin Yu pressed a hand against the armrest to steady himself, letting go once he was sure he wouldn’t lose balance. “At least let me hold your arm.”

Yin Yu clenched his fists tightly at his sides, his eyes narrowed in sharp frustration. First it was insisting he use the wheelchair, then he wanted to carry him, and now hover around him and hold his arm. It was far too much for him.

“Stop treating me like I’m fragile.” Yin Yu snapped, lowering his voice. He took a step back, refusing to let Yizhen anywhere near him. “I’m not porcelain. I’m not going to disappear just because I decided to walk on my own!”

Yizhen fell silent again. His shoulders sagged in defeat, his expression lost. 

“Ever since I woke up again for the first time, all you’ve done is hover around me and treat me like I’m frail. Have you ever thought about how that made me feel? How humiliating it is?!” His hands shook by his sides.

He’d been willing to accept Yizhen’s help just this once to see the city, only because Hua Cheng advised it. But where had that gotten him? His wheelchair stuck in mud, and a shidi that kept insisting on helping further. The same shidi who took everything from him. The shidi he’d died protecting from the Heavenly Emperor. The one he could never truly bring himself to hate fully. Why couldn’t he just be treated normally?

“I didn’t know…” Yizhen lowered his head, looking torn. He didn’t move from where he stood, listening to Yin Yu snap and rant without much complaint. He didn’t know what to say.

Yizhen’s words fell upon deaf ears. Yin Yu turned, walking off in the opposite direction. He just wanted to run away and hide.

Yizhen didn’t chase after him.

—

He dipped the tip of his brush in ink, dragging it along the papers in front of him in unsteady strokes. His hand trembled, a sheen of sweat glimmering on his forehead. He furrowed his brows, lowering his head as he attempted to focus harder on his work. The room had felt unbearably hot, but he had no means of leaving safely on his own.

Since the day he’d left Yizhen in the streets of Ghost City, he hadn’t come back. Weeks had passed since then, and not once did he hear the familiar sound of his knock on the door; the sound of wooden wheels creaking as he pushed the wheelchair in for him. The longer the distance between them grew, the more the guilt sank into his heart, weighing down on his soul. The argument replayed relentlessly in his head, the quiet words Yizhen spoke haunting him. 

Yizhen really didn’t mean to humiliate him. It was clear that he genuinely meant well, he just refused to see it. 

How could Yizhen still look up to him and care when he was just as horrible as he was back then? He didn’t… Understand it. He didn’t understand Yizhen at all. 

He dropped his brush on the desk, his vision swimming as the room seemed to spin around him. He placed a hand on his forehead, willing it to stop as he pushed himself back from his desk. He couldn’t work like this—he could hardly focus. He hadn’t even registered the sound of a knock on his door, nor the approaching footsteps. 

He jolted as he felt a cold hand pressed against the skin of his cheek, his eyes blown wide as he looked up. His gaze locked with Yizhen’s, his eyebrows knitted in concern as he pulled his hand away. “Shixiong, you’re burning up.” 

Yizhen was back. Relief flooded through him like a wave. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed him until he was gone. 

“That’s impossible, ghosts can’t get sick.” He responded defensively.

“No it’s not,” Yizhen disagreed, hovering near him anxiously. “Crimson Rain got sick one time, His Highness told me about it.” 

Yin Yu sat speechless. 

“Shixiong, you really should get some rest…” Yizhen fidgeted with his hands uncertainly. It looked as though he so desperately wanted to do something–to help–but was holding himself back. 

Perhaps he was afraid of getting snapped at again. It was his own fault for instilling that uncertainty in him when he only meant well. He lowered his lashes, casting his gaze down towards the floor. It was hard to think straight through the uncomfortable warmth he was feeling.

“Yizhen, could you…” He hesitated. What did he really want Yizhen to do?

He thought back to the lone memory of the time he spent in the lantern. The warmth of Yizhen’s arms around him; the safety he felt as they sat outside in the courtyard. He reached a trembling hand out and gently grabbed Yizhen’s, pulling him a little closer.

“Would you lay with me?” He asked quietly, dodging Yizhen’s gaze. He wasn’t sure what expression he had on his face, but he could feel Yizhen tense for a brief moment before there was a dip on the bed beside him. 

Yizhen laid down carefully, taking up the empty space behind him. Yin Yu curled onto his side, facing his back towards him as he attempted to make more room on his bed for him. For a while, there was nothing but silence. Yizhen hadn’t moved, keeping to himself as Yin Yu lost himself in thought.

Just how far did Yizhen go to bring him back? How hard did he have to push himself? The questions weighed heavy on his tongue, desperate to escape but trapped in hesitation. There were so many things he was uncertain about. So many conflicted feelings he wasn’t sure what to do with. 

He curled up tighter into himself, his entire body trembling beneath the blanket. The sweat on his forehead dampened his bangs, his face flushing a little brighter with fever. His eyes fluttered shut as he tried to fall asleep through it all, struggling desperately against his own body. 

He felt the blanket shift beside him. 

An arm snuck beneath his waist, wrapping itself carefully around his stomach. A heavy weight followed shortly after, another arm resting by his shoulder. A warm hand wrapped around his wrist, the contrast between temperature not as sharp as it should be. Yizhen had pressed himself against his back, hugging him against his chest. He could feel Yizhen’s steady heartbeat, the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. 

He was so… Warm. 

Yin Yu’s trembling eased as he started to drift off, his body subconsciously melting against Yizhen’s. It was so similar to those many nights in the lantern, held close to Yizhen’s chest as he hugged him close. Memories he’d thought completely forgotten resurfaced, a sense of calm soothing him into slumber.

It was safe. 

—

Yizhen liked to hum while he worked. 

Yin Yu had only just realized this as they worked outside. He leaned against a wooden crutch as he hung wet robes and sheets on clotheslines, taking care to ensure they wouldn’t fly away at the slightest breeze. Yizhen was behind him, scrubbing away with a small wooden basin of cold water and some soap. 

His sleeves were rolled up to his shoulders. His gaze was focused, his tanned, muscular arms on full display as he worked on the task he was given. Yin Yu couldn’t help but pause in his work to watch. The humming filled the silence between them. 

He furrowed his brows for a moment in thought, focusing intently on the tune. It was a song from their old town, one that he often hummed to Yizhen after particularly bad nightmares. He widened his eyes in recognition, his entire body going still. It had been so long, yet he still remembered that song from his childhood?

He flinched as he realized the tune stopped, Yizhen’s bright eyes turned to look at him inquisitively. He rushed to turn, his cheeks flushed bright, only to hear the leaves rustle with a strong breeze. The sheet he’d been trying to pin onto the clothesline blew with the wind, smothering the top half of his body. 

“Shixiong– ahahaha!” Yizhen laughed from behind him. 

When was the last time he’d heard Yizhen laugh like that?

He huffed, smiling to himself as he reached to grab the blanket with both hands, pulling it away from the clothesline with a small amount of force. He threw it over Yizhen with a splash as it hit the soapy water. Yizhen’s laughter had been cut off, momentarily stunned by the action. 

“There. That’s what you get for laughing– Yizhen!” He was abruptly startled as a larger splash of cold water flew in his direction, soaking his robes. Yizhen pulled the blanket off of his head and continued to laugh, the corners of his eyes creased with his smile.

For once, Yin Yu couldn’t help but laugh with him. For the first time in centuries, his smile reached his eyes as he couldn’t stop himself. Yizhen’s laughter was contagious. He caught his breath after a few more minutes, brushing a hand over the corners of his eyes. 

“...Now I’m completely soaked thanks to you.” He shook his head, though there was no real bite behind the words. Yin Yu couldn’t hide the smile behind his tone. He reached over to take the blanket off of Yizhen, turning to pin it back onto the clothesline. 

“But it made Shixiong laugh.” Yizhen pointed out from behind him. He didn’t hear the rustling as Yizhen stood from his spot on the ground. “I haven’t heard Shixiong laugh like that before.” 

He went still as Yizhen’s voice got closer. He felt a pair of arms wrap gently around his waist; Yizhen’s head pressed against his back. The hands he’d had on the blanket went still, his cheeks flushing at the realization of just how close Yizhen had gotten. Since the day he’d woken from spending years as a ghost flame, Yizhen always kept his distance until now.

He felt a lightness in his chest. A warm, pleasant feeling stirred within him. 

“Yizhen..” He wasn’t sure what to say.

“I was worried Shixiong was still unhappy with me. That you still hated me.” He admitted quietly, burying his face further into the back of Yin Yu’s robes. “I missed you so much while you were gone. I was so afraid I’d never see Shixiong again.”

“I couldn’t bring myself to hate you completely.” Yin Yu sighed, pulling his hands away from the sheets he was working on. He slowly turned himself around, facing Yizhen rather than having him pressed against his back. “You hurt me without realizing what you were doing. You didn’t know. It was unfair of me.”

Yizhen pulled away enough to look up at him, his eyes wide. 

“I’m sorry. I won’t disappear again. You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” Yin Yu apologized quietly, averting his gaze. 

Yizhen was silent for a long pause. He didn’t move, and Yin Yu wasn’t sure if he was entirely breathing either. After another moment, he felt Yizhen move closer as a pair of chapped lips pressed against his. He took a step back in surprise, pulling Yizhen along with him as he realized what Yizhen was doing.

Yizhen pulled away, his cheeks flushed a bright pink. Yin Yu couldn’t form any words to say; he’d been rendered completely speechless. Yizhen had managed to get his feelings across without even needing to say a word. 

“I’m glad.” Yizhen smiled brightly at him, stars in his eyes. “If Shixiong would allow it, I’d like to keep staying by his side.”

“Of.. Of course.” He stammered in response. How could he say no?

Yizhen brightened up even further, hugging his waist tighter as he clung. He looked as if he could rival the sun. 

Yin Yu smiled gently in return.