Chapter Text

My Blade, Yours to Command

The night air at the Desorock Highlands was still as cold as Geshu Lin remembered. Or at least, it still formed the same puffy clouds when he took his shallow breaths, careful not to alert any sensors in the area. Back then, he might have felt the cold on his skin, this icy prickling of countless needles that had kept him awake for hours back when he was still a recruit.

Now, there was nothing.

Maybe the black crystals were to blame, peeking out of his skin more often than not, barely hidden beneath the heavy cloak he was wearing. He shouldn’t blame them. Hadn’t it been for his Forte stopping Ovathrax from devouring more of his body, who knew what monster he would have turned into.

Geshu Lin grimaced as he took a quick look around, listening to the faint whirring of Tacet Discord Wavelengths in the distance. Until now he hadn’t grown used to the fact that he was now not only able to hear but also understand them.

He had to face the truth – he was a monster, just like them. This patched-up human skin was the only thing left to remind him that he had once been human. A pathetic one, but still…

“No need to console me.”, he snorted when a flame ball appeared next to him and proceeded to nuzzle his cheek. But that little nuisance insisted and rubbed even harder against his head, making a total mess out of his bangs. “I'm not cold, stop it, you idiot!”, he flicked it away with a scoff.

But oh, how I wish I could feel the cold again.

These days, Geshu Lin only knew heat. Excruciating heat every damn moment, from his first breath in the morning till deep into the night when he begged his demons to give him just one hour of sleep.

Just one.

Even if he was technically still ‘alive’ – what kind of life was this, getting torn apart by his own flames over and over again, just to be patched back together afterward by a core in his chest he had never asked for, a parasite he had never agreed to host?!

Dismayed, Geshu Lin gritted his teeth, making his way down the final dune, soundlessly morphing with the shadow of the huge walls.

The Midnight Rangers camp laid in front of him in dead silence. Hadn’t it been for the flickering lights up the wall, he might have foolishly believed that it had been abandoned.

But no, the camp was bustling with life as ever. Faintly, he could hear quiet laughter from above – probably joking over some wine while enjoying the cool night breeze.

Once, Geshu Lin had been one of them.

 But that was no more and so were the holes in the wall he had grown so used to.  Truth be told, Geshu Lin felt sick to his stomach to see it in such a meticulous state, so different from the one he was used to. A simple knock confirmed his conspicuous – Floramber plates. Back then, Geshu Lin had been forced to kowtow in front of the whole congress just for a single shield out of this insanely durable material.

Hah, seems like a certain someone had bewitched the Magistrate.

I should have expected it… nobody could ever resist his puppy eyes.

And he was so good at begging.

So damn good.

Before the stupid memories could haunt his mind yet again, Geshu Lin occupied himself with the door in front of him, the only other entrance to the camp apart from the main gate. Surprisingly enough, the pin pad was still the same. But surely, these morons would have changed the passcode-

The door unlocked with the familiar click Geshu Lin still sometimes heard in his sleep when he dreamed of his nightly sneaking-out-adventures to whatever Tacet Nest had caught his eye.

“Confirm identity.  Please provide your name.”

Geshu Lin paused, then with a smirk he said: “Ge Yi.”

The machine stayed quiet for a long moment, longer than Geshu Lin remembered. If he were just a little less rational, we’d think it were hesitating. But the final lock came undone and the door swung open. But the words which followed would haunt him for night to come.

“Ge Yi, authorized member. Access granted… Welcome home.”

“What the fuck, are they insane? Even after all these years they haven’t crossed that name off the list? Hell, they didn’t even change the passcode… Imagine we had an actual spy slipping in. What on earth is Jiyan doing?”

With an incredulous huff, Geshu Lin slipped through the door, careful to close it quietly before he made his way to the main building.

As expected, the courtyard had changed a bit in his absence,  still it was easy for him to spot the cameras and stay out of sight. And so, he soon found himself in the very hallways he had once sworn to enter again. At least not without flames licking at his feet and a weapon in hand.

Geshu Lin… wasn’t exactly sure what he’d do if he were to encounter one of his fellow colleagues on the way. Of course, he had planned out a strategy beforehand – he wouldn’t have been able to stay calm otherwise.

But now that he was in the building, laid eyes on these familiar ceiling lights and felt the rough texture of the walls against his hands, all his carefully crafted plans seemed oddly distant. Mushy, just like his brain with every further step he took.

Should he act like a dumb recruit, claiming to be with another division? People nowadays wouldn’t recognize his face, right?

But what if they did? What if they were part of the traitors who had left him to die at the frontline?

Geshu Lin gritted his teeth, his expression growing dark.

Should he just kill any innocent passerby? It would certainly be the safest way. The way his old self would have chosen – without a shred of hesitation.  So why was he now feeling so queasy…

Most nights, recruits were the ones to sneak around. Sure, there were up no good – but nonetheless innocent. Children.

… Should he just knock them out?

But… But what if they told him…?

Geshu Lin stuffed his hands deeper into is pockets.

Right, there was another headache lurking in these walls, one he’d definitely didn’t want to  run into.

Jiyan.

His most obnoxious medic, with his uncanny knack for finding him wherever he tried to hide. But that had been a long time ago. And that Jiyan… had been nothing more than a pretty façade. He’d learned that the hard way, hadn’t he?

“I’ll just get this over with and leave. It’s deep in the night, he’ll be asleep anyways, so why am I even worrying?” With a bitter smile, his fingers wrapped around the doorknob, only for his whole body to then freeze in place.

His name was staring back at him in bold letters. And there was not a single speck of dust on them.

Who could have done that?

Could it be- no… No, what nonsense.

Hastily, Geshu Lin tore his gaze off the cursed plate and desperately tried to focus back on the mission. There was only one reason why he had returned to this forsaken place – the one he had once foolishly dared to call a home – and it was not Jiyan.

No, he came here to retrieve his blade.

With newfound determination, he twisted the doorknob – only to realize that the door was locked. Of course, it fucking was. Why should anyone leave an unoccupied room open for the public to access? Even if the Magistrate must have long removed the classified information from in there – or at least Geshu Lin hoped so, these idiots had to be competent in something – an empty room paired with a batch of drunk, bored recruits was a disaster waiting to happen.

For a moment, he looked around, feeling oddly out of place –stuck right in front his own room. Then, he reached for the name plate, carefully tracing the edges. As expected, his spare key was nowhere to be found.

Did Jiyan take it? Only he knew where it was. Hah, he used that damn thing as if he owned the room.

Had used.

Geshu Lin clenched his jaw as memories flickered before his mind, a small figure in the doorframe, innocent yet the most alluring little minx Geshu Lin had ever had the misfortune of knowing.
Annoyed, he bit his cheek, trying to get his stupid mind to work again and he turned to the door. Swiftly, he unclipped his earring and carefully slotted it in the keyhole. Bingo, it still fit perfectly. Smugly, he fiddled with it for a while until he felt the familiar groove on the left and managed to wiggle it beneath the cylinder.

It wasn’t his first time.

Unbeknownst to many, Geshu Lin was horrible at keeping track of his belongings, especially his keys. Oh, he could count the times Jiyan had run after him, cheeks all red and puffy when he had once again left his key in the infirmary walking out to go face whatever Tacet Field looked the most inviting. Ah, how cute Jiyan had always looked with his tiny pout, the frustrated glint in his eyes-

No.

No, don’t think about him.

What’s wrong with you? How can you be so pathetic, so weak?

You burned all memories of him the day you died.

A dull click made Geshu Lin snap out of his haze and he carefully retrieved the earring, clipped it back, and then gently pushed the door open. The first few steps were silent, slow as if he was expecting an enemy ambush. And maybe he was, his body tight as if a Clang-Bang got him. His fingers hurt as he dug them into his palm, barely suppressing the urge to reach for his claymore – that wasn’t there.

The room was dimly lit by moonlight, the curtains open, almost as if someone had opened the windows not too long ago to let in some fresh air. It would explain why he smelled no dust, nor the distinct scent of a room being empty for far too long. A scent Geshu Lin had encountered so many times he had stopped counting – a scent that had accompanied him in every waking moment when he had lost another brother.

Geshu Lin took another step forward, waiting for something, anything to happen. A trap, a sign – hell, he wasn’t sure what he was looking for. But it was certainly not seeing his room without a speck of dust, as if it was waiting for him to return-

Wait a damn moment.

This was the same furniture as back then. No, not only this…

Shellshocked, Geshu Lin stumbled to the desk, tracing the familiar scorch marks and the little dents his dagger had left whenever the paperwork had annoyed him just a bit too much. His hand trembled as he reached out for a tiny object, perfectly placed on a white sheet of paper as if it had been expecting him.

His pen. His favorite pen – the one Jiyan had insisted was solely responsible for making his handwriting somewhat legible.

Hah. The brat had always been far too bold for his own good. As if his handwriting wasn't an atrocity.

Why was it here?

Mortified, Geshu Lin inspected every corner of the room, desperate to find something, anything amiss. Nothing. The cushions were still freshly puffed out, the daggers still sitting on the shelf, meticulously sorted exactly as he liked them. Numbly, Geshu Lin picked up one of weapons to face the haunted eyes in its reflection.

The blade was still sharp, even after years of abandonment.

“Why…”, the broken whisper echoed in the empty room like a curse as he stumbled back, breathing heavily as he held on for support at the desk. “Why did they leave it like this? Am I not what this country hates the most? How can they curse me while refusing to erase my traces…” He paused when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window. How pathetic he looked, how scared. He grimaced, grabbing his bangs in frustration and hiding behind them for a moment.

“I’m dead. So why… why keep all of this? Did he refuse my office?”, he let out a hollow laugh, his scalp hurting as he tugged harder. “Was he too sentimental to take it? Or did the memories haunt him? Of what he did to me, the owner of this room. Hah, serves him right…”

Geshu Lin tried to smile. But the reflection told him otherwise.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Stop dwelling on this. Whatever this is, it doesn’t matter to me.

Another breath.

I just need to get my claymore and then I’ll be out of here.

Another breath-

The moment he heard the door creak, Geshu Lin felt a rush of panic. His body moved before he could think, dropping into a battle stance as heat gathered in his hands, ready to ignite his Forte. But all his focus shattered when the door swung fully open and Geshu Lin saw in the reflection of the window the one he had never, NEVER wanted to see again.

“It’s you- It really is… you…”

Geshu Lin didn’t look up at the call, faintly wondering how Jiyan’s voice had turned so low, such a pleasant timbre. His tiny medic had grown up huh…

“Ge Yi. You used the same code name as back then.” A shaky laugh echoed in the abandoned room. “Never would I’ve thought to hear it again.”

Bile welled up in Geshu Lin’s throat and he refused to look up, listening in silence as Jiyan took a step forward, then another one. Although ‘staggering’ would be more fitting. And then he was right in front of him, his erratic breaths so loud that they chased goosebumps all across Geshu Lin’s skin.

Geshu Lin expected to be riddled with questions, after all it was what the damned brat was best at. Maybe anger, maybe fear, hell, he would have even been okay with a weapon drawn at him.

All would have made sense.

But not this.

Not seeing Jiyan falling down to his knee right to Geshu Lin’s feet, giving his salute as if it was the most natural thing to do.

As if they were still the same.

 “Welcome home, General.”

At first, Geshu Lin felt as though an ice-cold wave had seized him and dragged him beneath the surface, drowning him in the pitch-black waters surrounding Mount Firmament, buried beneath endless sheets of ice. But then, crushing heat tore his chest apart, set ablaze by pure rage at the sight of Jiyan lowering his head before him.

“Get up.”, he hissed sharply, finally facing Jiyan, his hands shaking with rage.

But the damned brat didn’t move.

“GET. UP.” Without hesitation, he grabbed the glass of water on the windowsill, probably left there to water the plants in the morning and threw it right at Jiyan. “There is no home here, just an empty room. And there is certainly only one general here and he’s currently crawling in dust. Do you want to disgrace your Rangers so badly?”

Frustrated, he observed Jiyan who still didn’t react. Even now that water was dripping down his head, the bangs messily sticking to his skin, he kept on kneeling in front of him, head bowed before Geshu Lin with the same solemn reverence he had shown at Bell Square, when he had first sworn his loyalty.

An oath that had haunted Geshu Lin through the final moments of his miserable life.

An oath he had trusted in…

And an oath that had shattered him more completely than any weapon ever could.

They remained in silence, stifling and heavy – and by the Sentinels, Geshu Lin would have rather fought the Threnodian again instead of dealing with this… mess. He shouldn’t care, he knew he shouldn’t, and yet not a single rational thought came across his mind when he saw Jiyan there in front of him.

So close… and yet so far.

Merely a raise of his arm and he could sink his fingers into his hair, brush through those soggy bangs just like back then. He could trace the trails the water droplets had left – and he could see if Jiyan was still as flustered beneath his touch.

Merely one little move and his hand would be at his throat and he could snap his neck.

Jiyan deserved it.

Jiyan deserved so much worse.

And yet, Geshu Lin’s voice was no more than a soft whisper when he slowly stepped aside, careful not to come too close to Jiyan, too close to make the second-biggest mistake of his life.

“Go back to sleep, General. This is just… a nightmare. Nothing more.” Geshu Lin fiddled with the beads of his necklace, a pitiful attempt of self-soothing that was shattered the moment Jiyan got up, taking a few tentative steps after him.

“How can this be a nightmare if it feels so much like a dream?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”, Geshu Lin hissed, cursing how even after all that had happened his stupid body still didn’t feel any sense of alarm at the presence in his back. Instead, it instinctively welcomed the closeness of the one who had always been by his side – the only constant throughout those mind-numbing years of war.

He froze when he realized that unlike before there was more to Jiyan than just his breath and the meek steps. A wavelength, soft and melodic, like sunshine on a lazy afternoon.

It suits him so much.

Geshu Lin drew a sharp breath, barely keeping his composure as he snarled out: “Go to sleep, General of the Midnight Rangers. There’s nothing for you to see here.”, his voice faltered, the bead falling uselessly to the side. “Nothing to save. Just a shadow.”

“The shadow that haunts me in my dreams would never call me general.”

“What do you want to call me then? Betrayer? Deserter?” Overcome with fury, Geshu Lin whirled around, glaring right at the golden eyes which had haunted him for so many nights. His lips curled into a warped grin: “The damned snake that betrayed my trust, fed me to the Threnodian and then took my place with a smile?”

“Sounds more like it.”, Jiyan took his words with a broken smile, holding his gaze with courage Geshu Lin had never seen from him, “I accept all of them. For I deserve it.”

The words rang in Geshu Lin’s ears like nails scratching across the chalkboard, mingling with the incessant whispers of the core. Ovathrax was laughing at him. And oh, that fucker had every reason to. Such simple, utterly ridiculous words – and yet they had left Geshu Lin completely disarmed, with not the slightest idea how to deal with an opponent like this.

I should have killed him the moment he set foot into this room.

But once again, I didn’t.

“I have no need for your whining. If you’re looking for pity, go bug someone else.” Geshu Lin rushed past him, his shoulder knocking against Jiyan’s. “Just leave me alone.”

Without a look back, he waltzed right over to the wardrobe, ripped open door after another, deciding to not bother with this nuisance any longer. And maybe if he looked just hard enough, he’d forget about the tingling at his shoulder, the faintest of moments they had touched and their Wavelengths had intertwined.

“You’re looking for your something, aren’t you?”

 ”None of your business.” Geshu Lin rolled his eyes, when Jiyan finally had the gall to speak up again, the stupid brat still lingering in the room after what felt like an eternity.

But he should have known better – Jiyan had never been one to admit defeat simply because he was being ignored. No, if there was one thing Geshu Lin could admit, much to his misery, it was that the medic he had known had only ever grown bolder with such antics. And it seemed that even after five years, that hadn’t changed.

Calmly, the current General of the Midnight Rangers watched him from atop the table as Geshu Lin paced the room.

“What are you looking for?”

“I don’t need your help.”, Geshu Lin snarled out before the offer could even be made.

In silence, he opened another drawer under Jiyan’s watchful gaze. Geshu Lin’s knuckles turned white against the wooden case.

Then abruptly, he turned to his former subordinate.

“Alright, you win. Where is my sword? In which fucking closet did you put it? Or…”, he paused, growing even more queasy. “Did you… throw it away?”

Jiyan’s eyes widened and Geshu Lin knew instantly that he had messed up, had let his walls down for just long enough that the cunning doctor had glimpsed passed them. And for sure, he’d use this against him, twist his scalpel deeper and deeper until he had carved out the heart that was already only held together by his sutures alone.

“I would never throw it away.” Jiyan shook his head solemnly then gave a curt wave, not commenting on how Geshu Lin looked more distraught than when the Impermanence Heron had wiped out their whole camp.

“Follow me. It’s not here.”

~

Geshu Lin had no idea why he listened to Jiyan’s command. He had no idea why his body didn’t even hesitate to follow in the other’s footsteps, soundlessly accompanying him through the hallways.

And he had even no idea why it took him five fucking tries to speak up to whom had once been no more than a lowly subordinate.

“Where are you bringing me?”, he hissed sharply, watching the teal hair sway from left to right in front of him.

“We’ll soon be there. Be patient.”

“Hah…”, Geshu Lin bit back a comment about the brat’s audacity to chide him as if he were a child. Unfortunately, he was no longer in a position to do so. But he was in the perfect place to point out something else…

With a dark smirk he matched Jiyan’s pace, joining his side without a sound. “Aren’t you worried that we’ll run into your men?”, he whispered into Jiyan’s ear, relishing in the shudder it earned him in return.

“No reason to worry.”

Geshu Lin just chuckled, amused at how desperately his former medic was trying to hide how flustered he was. “Oh, so you already have a plan? Color me surprised. I didn’t expect you to be so ready to cut down your own men. Or…”, his tone dropped to a dangerous low, his fingers teasingly brushing along the clothed underside of Jiyan’s bracer, making sure that Jiyan would feel the heat radiating from his skin. “Is it me you’re prepared to kill? Slit my throat right here and now? Who knew you had it in you… Thought, you were too much of a coward to do it yourself. Isn’t that why you sent me-“

“Can you shut up?!”

Before Geshu Lin could react, two hands were already at his shoulders, harshly dragging him around the corner, pressing him deep into the shadow of a storage closet. And soon, he should know why. Only a second later, footsteps grew louder until finally two soldiers made their way past them. Lucky for them – though for whom was another question –they were deeply engrossed in conversation, so Geshu Lin and Jiyan merely had to wait for them to pass.

But as the steps ebbed and silence returned to the hallway, Jiyan didn’t move. Confused, Geshu Lin looked up, only to freeze in place when he realized that Jiyan was looking right at him. And dear Jue, he was close. Far too close.

Geshu Lin’s mouth ran dry when he felt the younger man’s breath against his lips, shallow and damp. Again and again. The fingers dug deeper into his shoulders, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he just tilted his head a bit to the side, glancing curiously through the bangs at Jiyan.

“Done staring, pretty dragon? I know I look good.”

This finally seemed to bring the man back to reality. Never once had Geshu Lin seen him flinch so violently, literally jumping away from him as if he had burned himself.

“S-sorry. That was rude of me.”, Jiyan stammered, his cheeks dusting in rosy hue.

“And I wasn't paying attention. Only one of those mistakes gets us killed.” Geshu Lin merely snorted, approaching with a nonchalant shrug. “Now then. Lead the way, General.” He couldn't help himself. With a smug little grin, he added: “I’ll shut my mouth. Because you asked so nicely.”

~

When they finally reached their destination, Geshu Lin couldn’t almost believe his eyes.

“Why the fuck would we go to your room? Didn’t you promise me to bring me to my claymore-“

“Shh, we’re almost there!”

Annoyed, Jiyan ushered him inside, closing the door before Geshu Lin could get any other ideas. But this was as far as his courage went, his next steps hesitant, almost as if he were afraid.

“What?”, Geshu Lin clacked his tongue in annoyance, following him with crossed arms. “Got lost on the way? Or are you just embarrassed because your room is an utter mess – like always? Trust me, I’m already used to it – much to my dismay, may I add.”, he huffed, pointing to an ominous stack of dirty clothes in the corner. “If you tell me that my claymore is under there, I’ll kill you by the way.”

“N-no, of course not!” Embarrassed, Jiyan practically threw himself in front of him, desperately attempting to hide the stack of clothes behind his body. It was futile, of course. With a defeated little huff, he eventually hurried away, his cheeks so red that a Belle Poppy would have looked pale beside him.

“It is… here…”

Utterly gobsmacked, Geshu Lin watched as Jiyan lifted the blanket and indeed unraveled a pitch-black claymore.

On his bed.

“Why the fuck are you sleeping with my claymore?” He scrutinized at the claymore as if Jiyan had violated it.

“I kept it safe.” Offended, Jiyan frowned, looking up at him.
Geshu Lin scoffed. “From whom? Some stupid recruit trying it out and consequently bashing someone’s head in? Good learning lesson I’d say-“

“-The Magistrate.”

The mood instantly turned sour, both their expressions falling at the mention of the name that lingering between them like a curse.

“They came every single month in the first year of your… absence.”, Jiyan spoke up, his voice trembling with an anger Geshu Lin had never heard from him since… since he had decided to send all men up against Ovathrax. “They claimed it was for official business, trapped me in endless meetings until my eyes were heavy – but all the while, they were sneaking into your room and taking whatever they found intriguing.”

Jiyan grabbed the sheets tightly, genuine hatred burning in his eyes.

“I tried my best to keep them away. But there was only so much I could do. Ultimately, I locked your room but I knew that this wouldn’t stop them if I were on a mission.”, he shuddered, abruptly looking up at Geshu Lin in a rush of despair. “But I… I couldn’t let them have your weapon. Never. So I took it with me to my room and kept it safe there ever since, waiting for the day you would return.”

“Quite the rebel, huh.”

With even steps, Geshu Lin joined Jiyan’s side, not caring for their sleeves brushing as he scrutinized the sword. Even now Jiyan was trembling – and they were standing close enough that Geshu Lin could feel everything.

“Seems like I rubbed off on you the wrong way.” He snorted, sitting down at the bed side and reaching for the swords. “Hope you didn’t drool on it.”

“What?! I wouldn’t dare-!”

Geshu Lin didn’t pay Jiyan’s flustered stammering any mind, instead he solemnly placed his hand on the black sword, his heart instantly at ease when he felt the familiar roughness against his palm. All the heat which had been pulsing in his veins instantly calmed, like a pot of boiling water pulled from the stove.

He couldn’t help the shaky sigh falling from his lips as he lovingly traced the grooves and nudges to which purple veins started glowing all across the sword, pulsing like a heart beat.

Next to him, he could hear Jiyan take in a sharp inhale. Only now he realized how close the other was, standing right beside him, his thigh not a hand’s width from his own. Yesterday, Geshu Lin would have laughed at the mere prospect of having Jiyan this close again, would have bragged about a hundred ways to kill the man if he dared so much as to face him. But instead, he let him stay, let him watch as the weapon greeted his owner eagerly.

And deep down he wondered, why the damn brat seemed even more emotional than himself.

“Missed you too, old piece of scrap…”, Geshu Lin chuckled as he pulled it into his lap. Not caring about Jiyan’s presence, he then proceeded to sit it up upright so he could give it a hug. His gaze drifted toward the hilt as he leaned against it. The delicate colors were still there, every last detail intact – the work of his own hands, painted during lonely nights beside the fireplace, when the brothers he had shared food and wine with the day before were gone without trace.

Every single wave, each representing a part of the golden ocean of light that would drown the Lament was there.

Every one of those he had lost.

“I must express my gratitude. You really did take good care of it.” Solemnly, he let the crimson ribbons slide through his fingers until he reached the golden pearls – tassels longer than anyone else’s in Jinzhou, a symbol of the highest level of combat prowess.

“Thank you for not letting those bastards get their dirty hands on it.”

He looked up at Jiyan who seemed choked up with emotion. Ultimately, the young man just nodded, offering a weak smile.

“I could have never allowed that, General. Not as long as I’m alive.”

“Not as long as you’re alive, huh…” Numbly, Geshu Lin stared down at his hands, tightly wrapped around the hilt of his sword. Jiyan’s fingers were already in sight, hovering so closely that it would be easy to thank him. Pull him into a hug and properly show him, just how much this meant to him.

Talk.

But this was just a fantasy, a dream he should not and would not chase.
This was not Jiyan. And he was not Geshu Lin.

Just a General and a ghost.

Abruptly, he got up, sword under his arm as he started marching towards the door.

“Well then, I’ll be off-“

“WAIT!”

In the blink of an eye, Jiyan leapt forward, the panic in his voice startling Geshu Lin just enough so he could justify why his grip eased around his blade. Why Jiyan was able to grab it and pull it to himself, even if he had no business to.

”Give me my sword.”, Geshu Lin instantly growled, flames appearing on his skin.

But Jiyan didn’t falter when faced with his anger. “How about a deal first?”, he instead proposed, carefully taking a step back with the claymore in hand.

“Why should I make deals with you? For deals, one ought to have trust.”, Geshu Lin’s gaze grew dark. “I do not trust you, General of the Midnight Rangers.”

“This is not-“

“I trust ‘Jiyan’ even less.”

Geshu Lin’s words made the room go dead-silent, almost as if time stood still.

“But I kept your claymore safe.” Jiyan seemed near tears when he finally gathered the composure to speak up.

Geshu Lin only barked out a bitter laugh. “So you can have leverage on me. I must applaud you, you’re playing the long game. Almost believed your earlier spiel of the selfless savior. No wonder you managed to charm the people.”

“What? No, how can you even think that-…”

Jiyan’s voice broke and he looked utterly helpless. Genuine pain flickered in his eyes – only to be soon overshadowed by glum acceptance.

“I… I understand. And yet…”, he hesitated then met Geshu Lin’s gaze with an awkward smile. “Even if that were the case, my offer still stands. I served you long enough to know you’d never want to owe anyone a favor. You… you don’t want ties to this place, right? Even less to me. So how about it? You don’t have to trust me. I’m not asking you to. Just… one tiny thing and you’ll be free of everything that chained you here.”

Geshu Lin frowned. “… You’ve changed.”, he muttered.

“I’m just desperate.”, Jiyan cracked a broken smile, cradling the claymore to his chest as if it were his lifeline. “A favor for a favor. No debts remaining, no ties to chain you down. Doesn’t that sound like just what you desire?”

“You haven’t lost your golden tongue I see. Alright, what do you want? If it’s some outrageous bullshit, then –“
“Just a cup of tea. You and me. I’ll even brew it here.”

Geshu Lin knew that this deal wasn’t merely a deal, no matter what that little dragon said. He knew that Jiyan was danger, sweet as the Wintry Bell dew and just as deadly.

And yet…

“Go ahead then. But make it good.”, he plopped down on the chair next to the desk as if he owned it – And didn’t he? He had sat here so many times. – “I never liked this glorified mud water.”

“I know.”

~

“You’re not doing it right…”

It didn’t take Geshu Lin long to lose his patience when he watched Jiyan huddle between the cupboard and the little stove where he was boiling the water. Or at least he was trying to. But either Geshu Lin had no patience or the stove was really shit.

Before Jiyan could protest, Geshu Lin had already grabbed the kettle and proceeded to heat it in his hands.

“You still got the temperature right.”

“Of course I do.”, Geshu Lin snorted as he placed the kettle back on the stove and flicked the useless thing off before busying himself by watching Jiyan prepare the tea. Unbothered, he scoffed: “And you still throw in way too many leaves. Addict.”

“Maybe I haven’t changed much.”, Jiyan smiled as he watched the water slowly turning dark.
Geshu Lin froze, subconsciously looking up before hastily pulling away and breaking eye contact.

“You did. And so did I.” He walked over to the small closet, pulling open the door where the fridge was hidden. It hadn’t changed position.

Without a word, he fetched the milk and handed it to Jiyan. With a small smile, the younger man poured it into his cup.

Jiyan never drank his tea without milk.

Soon, they found themselves at the table, sitting opposite each other just as they always had. Geshu Lin had never been able to rest comfortably anywhere he couldn't catch a glimpse of the outside world. He needed to see the sky – to know that, for the moment, it was clear, that no Impermanence Heron would set his camp, all he loved and cared for, ablaze in a mere heat beat.  

In the background, the faint ticking of a clock filled the silence. Geshu Lin vaguely remembered picking it out in some village near Taoyun Vale (quite involuntarily so) after they had freed the region from a flock of pesky Mountain Apes.

Even after all this time, it was still running…

“The Huaxu Academy sent us reports of energy spikes matching Ovathrax’s frequency. We’ve been scouting the area for a week now, checking for a Tacet Outbreak, taking samples.”

Geshu Lin didn’t even bother to look up when Jiyan raised his voice.

“… It was because of you, wasn't it?”

“What do you want me to say?”, he just sipped from his tea, nonchalantly observing the countless paperstacks on the office desk.

“Whatever you want to say.”

Geshu Lin froze. “…. I didn’t never lie to you. I will not start now.”, he rasped out, his grip around the cup growing tight.

“You don’t need to.”

“I want to enjoy my tea and for you the same. Can’t do that with your spear at my throat.”

“I wont-“

“You will have to. There is no choice.”

With a dull clack, Geshu Lin set the cup down, scorning Jiyan with a dark glare.

“Why do you need to seek for an answer that will only make your life harder? As of now, I’m just a stranger sitting in your room and drinking tea – maybe on a not-so-voluntary basis, but still…” He stared at the tea, perfectly brewed to satisfy his taste. The reflection from the water watched him in pity.

“Just a stranger. No ties whatsoever.” At Jiyan’s frown, he huffed and looked up, picking the cup back up and bringing it to his lips. “No obligation either. So don’t you dare give me that look. I’m not your patient anymore.”, the cup trembled ever so slightly. “Neither are you my medic.”

Abruptly, he set the cup down, preventing a far-too-telling spill. Instead, he glared at Jiyan, pointing right at that pathetic face, those puppy eyes having no right to make him feel so bad.

“And even if I were! I am perfectly fine.”

Jiyan had the audacity to scoff. And when he crossed his arms, pursing his lips like that, Geshu Lin couldn’t help but see the flicker of a white lab coat around him, those damn gloves suddenly covering his hands again. The brat had always insisted on changing them more times than Geshu Lin changed his underwear in a week.

“As if you'd really think me naïve enough to assume you made it back from the Battle Beneath the Crescent unscathed.”

Geshu Lin gritted his teeth. He considered lying but beneath those golden suns, their light ripped his walls right to pieces, made him felt so naked, so… vulnerable.

“Don’t look at me like that. I neither need not want your fucking pity!” Angrily, he pointed at Jiyan, feeling his Forte thrum in his veins, begging to be let out – to destroy.

But the flame was stifled at the tiniest spark, drowned by words that hit Geshu Lin like cold water, one of Mount Firmament’s infamous blizzards no one could find their way out.

“It is not pity. I care.” Jiyan’s eyes narrowed, his words firm, yet his tone awfully soft.

“Why? It does not matter to you.” Geshu Lin pulled his hand back, subconsciously reaching for the little talisman he had crafted to honor the old one he had lost in battle.

“It does!”

Jiyan jumped up, the chair loudly clattering to the ground. Both men tensed up at the loud noise, hands twitching for a weapon to hold on to.

Silence filled the room, thick and stifling like the smoke at the Inferno Rider’s lair.

In the end, it was just a mere whisper, hoarse from grief far too heavy for a single man to carry.

“It does, Geshu Lin.”

The former general’s blood ran cold at the sudden call. Jiyan had never dared to address him by his name, only once. Only and then-

“You will not take my name into your mouth, do you hear me, Medic? It is not your place. You are nothing to me.”

“I…”

The young man looked up from the ground, clutching the sheet tightly as if it could hide the countless blemishes on his body – the bruises and bite marks that meant nothing and yet shone so brightly against his flushed skin.

Geshu Lin towered over him, fingers digging deep into his damp, sweaty bangs. “Do you understand, Medic #4975?”

“Y…Yes, Sir…”

Numbly, Geshu Lin looked down at the two cups, the tea probably cold by now. Across from him, Jiyan was shaking with silent anger, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were whiter than the snow of Mount Firmament.

Finally, Geshu Lin mustered the courage to look up – and froze when he saw the glimmer of tears in Jiyan’s eyes.

“You can’t expect me to stay silent when I was there to feel the air thrum with your frequency. When the mere heat of your fire almost turned me to ashes alongside the enemies.” The younger man rasped out, hand reaching for his arm as if he were seeking the comfort of his medic’s armband. “That day, you overheated – there’s no doubt about it. You did not make it out of this battle.”

So what happened?

How can you be here in front of me after all this time?

What have you turned into?

Geshu Lin’s smile was as bitter as the berries Jiyan despised so much when he slowly picked up the cup, nonchalantly putting it to his lips and taking a sip as he drawled out: “Astute observation as always, General. So? What’s your conclusion?” He shook the cup, swirling the cold tea around. He could not bear seeing his reflection right now. Not the reflection of this monster.

“Asking all that bullshit about the Huaxu Academy’s report, demanding ‘answers’. Let’s be real, you don't want answers, you want confirmation of what you’re too afraid to say out loud. But face it, General, you were aware of this the moment you saw me standing in that cursed room –“,

Geshu Lin’s voice broke, bile welling up in his throat as the core in his chest pulsated, the whispers in his mind growing worse than usual in the face of these innocent, wide eyes. Eyes in which he could do nothing wrong.

“You’re a Resonator now. If your senses are half as sharp as your mind, you know what I am.”

And you know what you have to do.

The room fell so quiet one could hear a pin drop. And for once, Geshu Lin wished Jiyan would speak up. Geshu Lin wished that he wouldn’t keep quiet as he had on that wretched day when he had taken every single insult, every punch – until he was nothing but a bloody, battered body beneath Geshu Lin’s hands.

“Come on, Jiyan. You were the one who started this.”, he finally rasped out, his patience long run out. “Say it.”

He leaned forward, gaze resting heavily on his former subordinate who in return refused to raise his head. A bitter smile curled Geshu Lin’s lips. “Say what I am.”

But Jiyan stayed silent.

Never had Geshu Lin craved more to grab him, shake him, tear that ugly façade away and uncover what lay beneath. To understand what could have possiblychained Geshu Lin to this rotten world when he had forsaken every other bond.

Why do I feel so desperate to hear your voice?

Have your eyes on me?

“Why did you offer me my claymore? You should know damn well that it could cost the life of your men – maybe the entire country.” Tiredly, Geshu Lin finally rubbed his eyes, slouching back into the chair as if all energy had left him.

“You won’t.”

He paused, blinking once, twice. Then, he scoffed shooting Jiyan a dismayed glare: “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know you.”

The words were soft, oh so devilishly soft. Geshu Lin had never been a man swayed by words alone; it took a blade to reach him. Yet Jiyan was special. He had always been special. Around him, the brazen general was reduced to nothing more than simmering coals, wrapped in a warmth that was so damn kind.

So, Geshu Lin was rendered a useless mess the moment Jiyan finally met his eyes, his mouth going dry as the younger man rose from his chair. Slowly, Jiyan made his way around the table, fingers gliding along the grooves – each one familiar in a way Geshu Lin wished they weren’t.

“Even if you look, sound, act differently…”, Jiyan paused in front of him, his smile so pure that Geshu Lin realized too late the danger he was in.  “You’re still the one who chose me.”

A hand.

Right at his cheek.

Geshu Lin wanted to open his mouth to protest, wanted to throw his hands up in anger and push him off because how dare that brat touch him after everything that happened-

But he didn’t.

He couldn’t.

“No matter what you are, what you want me to call you – Can’t we just… talk?” Tenderly, Jiyan’s thumb brushed along his cheek, right where black crystals where peeking out from behind the bangs. “I know I have no right to pry what happened in these five years. But I’d like to know.”

“…Are you asking this as the General of the Midnight Rangers or Jiyan?”

Jiyan’s eyes instantly widened and he hastily exclaimed: “As me, of course! The past five, I spent countless nights-“

Geshu Lin’s expression turned dark. “Pathetic.”

“…What?”, Jiyan stammered, suddenly so small, so vulnerable, as though he were a child again. “But I want to explain-“

Harshly, Geshu Lin slapped his hand away. “I have no need for explanations.”

For a moment, Jiyan stood in front of him utterly dumbfounded, holding his hand as if Geshu Lin had broken it a second time.

“Then I’ll let you talk. Surely, you have a few things on your minds.”, the young man finally pleaded, his words growing more and more desperate with every step closer. “So talk to me… Please, I beg you.”

…Geshu Lin should have broken it.

He should have broken every single bone in this treacherous body.

In the blink of an eye, Geshu Lin jumped up, grabbing the younger man and slamming him right on the table. Faintly, he heard the cups clatter, maybe even shatter on the ground. He couldn’t care less. The days where they could drink tea in peace, in quiet laughter and warm chatter, were long gone, burned away in the flames that had torn Geshu Lin apart. The flames Jiyan had tossed him into.

“I have no words left for you. Not for you, Jiyan.”, he growled, numbly realizing that his hand was clutched around Jiyan’s throat, pressing down hard enough that Jiyan’s eyes widened, the battle-scarred body twitching with the urge to defend himself.

But instead of fighting him off, Jiyan suddenly eased into his grip, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he murmured: “I… I understand.”

“But you refuse to accept my decision. Even now you defy my command, disrespect me to my face. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, hah?”

Jiyan fell silent, looking as if he had been slapped. It was the same look he had worn that day, when Geshu Lin had barely managed to save him from the hallucinations in the first Retroact Rain. For a moment, Geshu Lin had almost fallen for his pitiful façade.

Almost.

But this look had been the beginning of the end.

Their downfall.

His downfall.

“That day, you took my life. My home. My family.” With a bitter chuckle, he leaned down, growling right against the plum, reddened lips: “You didn’t even leave me my name.”

Jiyan’s eyes widened but merely an intelligible croaked left his throat, instantly stifled by Geshu Lin pressing down hard.

“Do you really think I didn’t hear what they say about me in the streets? The blood-soaked monster, the golden-tongued warmonger who lured Jinzhou’s brave men into his abyss, ready to send them all to hell?” Watching Jiyan struggle for air, Geshu Lin’s tone softened. “They have no idea, Jiyan.”

His eyes grew half-lidded as memories flashed before him, the sound of laughter, of eager vows… and of people he called family crying out in pain, pleading for help, for mercy… for a swift death.  Geshu Lin had always chided his men, especially a certain medic for clinging to such memories, to keep revisiting the images just because they were the last glimpse fate granted them of their beloved comrades.

But deep down, he knew that he was no better. No, if anything he had always been the weakest out of all of them, remembering every single name he had carved into the urns until this very day. The memories would never leave him, would always linger at the edges of his mind like an invisible yet ever-present Retroact Rain.

“And they never will. Because they do not care, am I right? Because it’s so much easier to blame, to have a face to all the grief and anger they carry.” Frustrated, he let go of the younger man, suddenly fed up to see him so pale – so close to dying.  

Like a madman, he stumbled backward, clutching desperately at his shirt, right where, just a few years ago, he had worn the Jue’s crest with pride.

“They have no clue that it was really me who led those men to victory – to the peace they had cried out to their pathetic Sentinel for all those years. While their God sat on their big fat ass, I threw myself into eternal slaughter. I offered everything I had to deliver this country its victory. I fucking died for them, Jiyan!”

Angrily, he threw his hand to the side, shaking uncontrollably as the shadows around him solidified. Blue uniforms turned red with blood, the iron scent so overwhelming that he nearly doubled over, ready to puke his guts out. With a wet laugh, he stumbled toward the window, pressing his face against the glass as he stared at the horizon. In the distance, faint lights reminded him of a city that was once supposed to be home.

Where had he gone wrong?

“Now my name is nothing more than a curse. A ‘Behave, or the big, scary Crimson-Bathed General Geshu Lin will come for you’ tale told to unruly children. The nightmare who took their parents, their siblings, their whole families.” Hollowly, he took a step back, numbly looking at the teal-colored reflection in the mirror.

“Meanwhile they hail you as their savior. But Jiyan, didn’t they see that it was my flames that set the night ablaze?”

A bitter laugh echoed in the room.  

“No, they must know… they know. There’s no way they don’t. I set all of fucking Jinzhou ablaze just to get Ovathrax to his knees!” He gritted his teeth, anger churning in his chest alongside a sorrow he hadn’t felt so intensely in months. It pricked at his skin like countless icy needles, piercing from the inside out, until even breathing became difficult.

Oh… Jiyan truly brought out the worst in him.

“How can they do that to me? How can they forget?” In a desperate hope for answers, he whirled around and then staggered forward, grabbing Jiyan’s shoulders clumsily, “How can they scorn me it was me who had to tell my men, my brothers, that they would deliver the country peace – but would never get to experience it themselves.”, his voice broke, “That, at my command, they’d never see their loved ones again.”

Nauseating silence answered his questions, and Geshu Lin could do nothing but stare at his miserable reflection in Jiyan’s eyes, watching the last shred of dignity leave him. Oh, this wasn’t even the ghost of the proud general he had once been. It was nothing but a broken mess.

And there was no one to pick up the shards.

Nor would Geshu Lin allow himself to be glued back together. He couldn’t bear this rotten world anymore.

“The Magistrate fed them lies.”

At Jiyan’s whisper he could only snort, amused at how Jiyan was seriously trying to answer his questions with reason.

“To instate you as their brand-new shining pawn, I know.”, he muttered joining his game. With his old signature smirk, he let his hands glide along Jiyan’s shoulders up to his throat where bruises were already blooming up. Then, he reached his cheeks. Gently, so different from his usual touch, he cupped them and leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together.

“They use you as they used me. You will fall.”, he murmured lowly.

“I know.” Jiyan just softly hummed, leaning into the touch when Geshu Lin started lazily tracing the dark circles beneath his eyes.

“Is Jinzhou worth it?”

“Yes. For it is the country you gave your life for.”, Jiyan let out a shaky exhale, then met Geshu Lin’s eyes. “The Midnight Rangers are your legacy.”

“So you use me as your resolve. How greedy.” Geshu Lin’s eyes narrowed, pulling away even when Jiyan chased after him for the faintest moment. Annoyed, he flicked his forehead. “And how stupid. Clinging to a ghost.”

Geshu Lin paused, watching as Jiyan frowned in pain, familiar protest glinting in the man’s eyes. He was still like the medic from back then, pouting whenever Geshu Lin flicked his forehead in response to what was, at least to him, incessant nagging.

Only now, they stood too close. Closer than ever. It would be easy, so damn easy, to lean in and kiss him, to chide him for holding on so tightly, for stealing his breath and making his head spin until all he could do was mumble Geshu Lin’s name.

“You shouldn’t, Jiyan. As your mentor, let me give you this one last bit of advice: Do not chase after a soul that’s long lost to the flames of war.” Gently, he pulled away, giving Jiyan a slight push against the chest as if to keep him away.

“Even if it may feel similar, it’s just an illusion. You don’t want to stay close to me.”

At first, Jiyan seemed to accept his words. But just as Geshu Lin thought he was safe, the other suddenly grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers. With a calmness that scared Geshu Lin out of his wits, Jiyan met his eyes, defiance brimming in them so brightly that the sun paled next to him.

“I’m grateful for every lesson you gave me. And I admit that I listened to them far too little. But…”, there was a tremor in his voice, but his gaze did not waver, “But you don’t get to decide whom I let go of – and when.”

Jiyan took a step forward, placing his foot perfectly between Geshu Lin’s, his hot breath prickling like static on Geshu Lin’s face.

“Whatever I mean to you does not change how I feel about you. What you mean to me.”

“What I mean to you? Are you even listening to yourself?”, Geshu Lin just let out a hoarse laugh. Laughter that then died on his lips the moment Jiyan leaned in close, his thigh brushing against Geshu Lin’s.

“I am. But are you listening to me-”, he abruptly dragged their intertwined hands against his chest, “-Geshu Lin?”

“…You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” Ignoring the startled gasp that escaped Jiyan, Geshu Lin used his chance to grab the atrocious belt straining against Jiyan’s chest and yanked him forward.

 “Oh how I loathe you.”

With this, he let go, but only of the belt, not Jiyan’s hand which he then swiftly brought up against his lips, pressing a long, far too long kiss against it. Calmly, he watched as Jiyan shivered beneath his touch, eyes wide-blown with surprise.

Oh, how easy he was… even after all this time…

“All of you. Your stupid idealism, your sincerity when you were the one who backstabbed me. You always claim to shield the candle’s flame with your hands, only for your own breeze to snuff it out.”

His nails dug deeper into Jiyan’s soft skin.

“I knew my fire was running low, I knew there was no future left for me. But never… never would I have thought it would be you. Hah…” His voice crumbled. “Even in my last moments, I… I thought…”

His grip around Jiyan’s wrist weakened until his fingertips merely lingered against the cold skin, retreating and yet unable to let go – a butterfly caught in a spider’s web.

“I thought you’d come for me. That my most stubborn medic would refuse to let me die on my own, would nag me and rush around me like a frazzled duckling in my last moments.”, a shaky laugh fell from his lips, “I thought I’d see your face one last time, Jiyan.”

He knew better and yet he sought Jiyan’s eyes, those golden suns he had so desperately longed to see when the world had fallen silent apart from his own blood rushing in his ears. When his mouth had been filled with iron and every breath hurt more than the last.

“Why did you leave me alone when I needed you most?”

The core in his chest pulsated violently when he was met with nothing but silence and he had to do his very best not to crumble right here and now. But Jiyan didn’t seem to fare any better, his mouth opening and closing several times while his Wavelength jittered so much that it almost derailed Geshu Lin’s own.

“I… I didn’t want to.”, the younger man finally croaked out his pitiful answer.

Numbly, Geshu Lin stared at him. “And yet you chose to.”

“Because I had to.”

“Yeah… you had to.”

Geshu Lin merely smiled at the answer and pulled away, slipping effortlessly back into his usual casual demeanor. He shrugged, casually dodging Jiyan’s hand as it reached for him. Instead, he grabbed the chair and sat down again.

Not that he held onto it for a moment longer than necessary.

And certainly not to keep his balance.

“Whatever. It’s all in the past now, is it? What did I tell you guys in the past? Do not cling to grudges, nor do second-guess decisions you can’t do undo for it will deter you blade.” With a bitter chuckle, he looked over to the window and Jinzhou’s rooftops in the distance, waiting for a new sun to rise. “How ironic, considering my hatred, no… even obsession to eradicate all Tacet Discords was what led my sword to carve the bloody path to Jibzhou’s future.”

Solemnly, he turned to face Jiyan one last time.

“Seems like I too tend to cling to what I loathe, huh…?”

In silence, Geshu Lin and Jiyan stared at each other.

Finally, Jiyan’s lips twitched, a small smile he wasn’t able to stifle. “You do, Sir.” The former medic’s voice was merely a coarse whisper and yet Geshu Lin didn’t fail to miss that treacherous speak of hope lingering between the lines. And he didn’t miss the hand twitching uselessly at the side, begging to reach for him. To hold him.

Quickly he shut that spark of hope down before it could turn into a flame – a flame he had drawn to close already once before.

“Time to heed my words then. Let grudges be grudges and go on with my life. Cut all ties, start anew…”, his gaze fell down to a porcelain shard near his boot around. With a weak smile, he started pushing it around. “Should be easy, right?”

Geshu Lin didn’t need to hear Jiyan’s Wavelength spike for a moment until the general managed to stifle it. Hah, one glance at his face was enough to know that he wasn’t happy with his words.

Words Geshu Lin had chosen for a reason.

But the reason seemed forgotten the moment he saw Jiyan so nervous, so genuinely upset at the prospect of losing him again. Geshu Lin knew it would be better not to pry.

Unfortunately, he had always marched willingly toward all that would bring about his demise.

“Shouldn’t you as my medic rejoice at such a proclamation? Your most troubling patient turning a new leaf over…. Forgetting about all that troubled him?”

Geshu Lin’s grin stretched wide while Jiyan’s face grew more and more tense. Hah, he was so desperately biting back his protest, it was pathetic.

And so adorable.

Geshu Lin knew better and yet he still reached out for the young man in front of him, his face shifting to one without the bags beneath his eyes, his hair a bit shorter yet no less silky. And his lips-

The moment he felt the cool, smooth skin under his fingertips, Geshu Lin froze. It was not as smooth as he remembered. No, there was slight stubble greeting him, born from days that were too stressful for shaving.

Geshu Lin ignored the way his guts twisted at this, ignored the tightness in his throat. Erasing the despicable trace of Jiyan changing from the one he knew, he tightened the grip around his chin, tugging Jiyan forward so harshly that the young general stumbled against the table, almost crashing into him.

A sense of elation filled Geshu Lin at the sight of Jiyan’s eyes widening in genuine surprise, at hearing ‘ow’ the familiar gasp fall from those chapped, yet unfairly rosy lips.

“Come up, speak up, Jiyan. Or are you still the brat from back then who only glares because he is too much of a coward.”, Geshu Lin murmured – his words both threat and plea… even if he were to admit only one.

Impatiently, he traced Jiyan’s throat with his fingers – from his lean mastoids to the Adam Apple bobbing at the slightest touch.

“What? Even now as a general, my successor you are a dog with no bite?”, he frowned at Jiyan’s persisting silence.

“If you wanted a new life, why did you come back for your sword?”

On second thought, Geshu Lin would have preferred him to stay silent. Jiyan had always been too sharp for both their goods.

Dismayed, he let go off him and muttered: “Well, it is the best weapon, I can wield so-“

“It is the best weapon General Geshu Lin could wield.”

Geshu Lin’s body grew tense. “What do you want me to say?”, he hissed.

But Jiyan didn’t falter. Meeting him with the same intensity, his former subordinate pointed at him and asked: “Why did you use your old nickname to enter the camp?”

“Ah right, that was how you found out I came in here…”, Geshu Lin sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. But at Jiyan’s next words, he stilled.

“Well kind of, I was already…-”, Jiyan froze, quickly stifling his voice.

Geshu Lin’s eyes narrowed. “Already what?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Jiyan quickly looked away, his gaze suddenly grim. “It’s not an answer you want to hear anyway, judging by everything you’ve told me so far.” With a sigh, he looked up again, his expression carefully schooled. “I must say, I was surprised to see that you actually remembered the code. Usually, you’d just climb the wall.”

“Well, I didn’t want to give your precious men a scare.”, Geshu Lin huffed, then paused as he remembered something VERY important. Annoyed, he poked the fastener right at Jiyan’s chest. “Speaking of! Why the fuck didn’t you change the passcode for the backgate in seven years? Are you insane?! I clearly remember implementing the rule It had to be renewed every single year. How can you be so careless?”

“But then you wouldn’t be able to return.”

Geshu Lin froze, his hand falling uselessly back on the table with a dull clonk. He took a deep breath in and out. And Jiyan was still looking right at him. Observing him… waiting for an answer.

And for the tiniest second, Geshu Lin wanted to fall for it – those sweet, sweet words Jiyan always offered him so readily. But then his gaze fell onto the golden dragon symbol on Jiyan’s coat and all his foolishness was silenced in an instant.

“Hah, and I’m supposed to believe that? Nice try, General of the Midnight Rangers, but I won’t fall for such ridiculous lies. Who’d even listen to such bullshit-“

“Someone who isn’t afraid to face the truth.”

Barely, just barely the fire ball missed Jiyan’s cheek.

“Do you want to insult me, medic?”, Geshu Lin growled while lazily recalling his flames with a single snap.

“Not at all.” Jiyan just met his eye calmly, even baring his throat as if to offer a better target next time.

“And yet you call me a coward right to my face.”

Abruptly, Geshu Lin got up, walking toward Jiyan in slow, menacing steps. But the other didn’t flinch, not even as Geshu Lin circled him, eventually coming to a stop behind him. Right where it was the easiest to kill him.

With a hollow expression, Geshu Lin slung his arms around his shoulders from behind. “Is it because you’re in your cozy camp, right under the watchful eye of the Huaxu Academy? You know that I could kill you right this instant, don’t you?” Slowly, he slid his finger down the throat until he abruptly pressed his whole hand against it, warming it up enough to underline his threat. “Even if the Magistrate watches, hell, the Sentinel, it wouldn’t stop me in the slightest.” A bitter grin strained his cheeks. “I’d even welcome it.”

In the blink of an eye, his face was back to his apathetic expression, his voice even as in the many years he had led his men into a living hell.

“So don’t push your luck.”

“I’m not.”, Jiyan just tilted his head, his long hair – so much longer than Geshu Lin remembered, yet just as silky – tickling Geshu Lin’s arm, “I know you’re far stronger in hand-to-hand combat than me.”
“Damn right. But why should I dirty my hands if I could just use my Forte?”, Geshu Lin smirked, his leg absentmindedly kicking Jiyan’s thigh again and again.
“You would have long done so if you desired.”

Geshu Lin froze, only to then clench his jaw in anger, his hands pressing down on Jiyan’s throat hard.

“You-“

But the moment he heard the tiny moan fall from Jiyan’s lips, all that rage disappeared, stifled like a flame in the rain. Dumbfounded, he stared at his hands still tightly clutching Jiyan’s throat. His leg was pressing right against the other, demanding its place between the muscular thigh.

When had he even moved it here?

When had he dragged Jiyan this close when he had told himself never to succumb to such a stupid, carnal desire ever again – especially not with this man?!

Geshu Lin swallowed hard and hesitantly turned to face Jiyan. He froze the moment he realized Jiyan had already turned his head toward him, offering himself with those hazy, half-lidded eyes, darkened by a desire Geshu Lin knew all too well. It made his guts twist, yet he wanted nothing more than to forget – to avert his eyes from the shameful truth staring right back at him.

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t, and so he watched Jiyan a moment longer, drinking in every detail he had spent the past five years trying to forget. The few rogue strands of silky hair brushing against his skin, those slightly flushed cheeks. The parted lips bearing clear bite marks from the brat’s nervousness.

Bite marks Geshu Lin would love to turn into proper bruises, so the whole world could see that the dutiful general had allowed a wretched ghost like him to defile him.

That Jiyan was still his, and his alone.

But that wasn’t true. No, it shouldn’t be true and Geshu Lin knew damn well he had to pull away when he was staring the snake of temptation straight in the eyes. Yet tearing himself away took more strength than facing fucking Ovathrax. Feeling Jiyan’s erratic Wavelength still thrumming against his skin, he pulled his arms away and finally stepped stumbled back.

His hand definitely did not tremble when he pulled it to his chest – and even less so when he walked over to the bed and stopped in front of it.

The very reason why he had come back to this rotten camp in the first place.

… Or was it?

“You should’ve thrown this sword away.”
“How could I? It’s yours.”

Geshu Lin gritted his teeth when he felt the presence of the other in his back, far too close for comfort.

“The owner of this sword is long dead.”, he hissed, trying not to inhale too deeply when he caught a whiff of Pecocks – of that damned sweet scent that had tempted him too many times to count.

“And yet he returned.”

Geshu Lin froze when a hand tenderly traced his side, perfectly targeting the spots that made his defenses melt.

“I did not return. Jiyan, I’ll be gone the moment the sun is up.” He finally looked up, not hiding behind his bangs any longer. Then, he turned around and-

“Fine by me.”

Before Geshu Lin could react, a hand had already found his shirt, dragging him forward with power he hadn’t expected from the feeble medic he had once known.

“I’ll cherish whatever you give to me. So in return…”, he pulled Geshu Lin further along – back to the table he had just escaped from. Away from the sword that would finally bring him freedom. He pulled him further and further until Geshu Lin stumbled into him, trapped like a rabbit in a hawk’s claws, when he found himself caught in a tight, utterly messy embrace with half his body sprawled over Jiyan on the table.

“Let me offer you everything I have, General.”, Jiyan murmured his vow right against his lips.

“Everything you have?” Geshu Lin’s gaze grew dark, his tone merely a hoarse whisper as he allowed Jiyan to grab him by the hips, adjust his position so their bodies were pressed flushed against each other, their breaths one and their bodies thrumming with a heat so scalding that even his Forte seemed like a blizzard next to it.

A heat he had tried to forget for so long.

“Don’t make empty promises, medic.”

“I don’t, Sir.”, Jiyan met his gaze bravely – golden suns that captured Geshu Lin before he even knew it, accompanied by hands that snaked along his torso, impatient to reclaim what once had been his.

Even if Geshu Lin had denied him so many times.

Geshu Lin let out a shaky exhale.

And it seemed this was all invitation it took for Jiyan to pull him in for a kiss.

Geshu Lin allowed him – he didn’t know why.

Maybe he knew.

And maybe… he also knew why the next words sounded less like a command and more a plea.

“Don’t disappoint me, Jiyan.”