#artsarasp

“Besides,” he continued, pointing at a bird that had made the mistake of landing near the rodent family, “They’re rather territorial.”

Faster than should be possible, the rabbit-squirrel mother launched herself at the bird and ripped it to bloody shreds. The bird didn’t even manage to let out a death cry before the kits swarmed and happily began feasting upon it. 

“I see.” Luo Binghe glanced down at the sketch he’d made of the rabbit mother sweetly grooming its kit. He looked back up to find that same kit’s white fur now completely bloodstained. “I suppose they would not make very good pets.”

“No,” Shen Qingqiu chuckled. “If we brought one home, they would eat all the short-haired beasts Liu-shidi keeps bringing, and then where would we be?”

“I’m sure Liu-shishu would just bring more,” Luo Binghe grumbled under his breath. That made Shen Qingqiu laugh a little louder, inadvertently startling the rodent family. They all froze and stared at the bush where the two of them hid, their fur menacingly bloodstained.

“Come on,” Shen Qingqiu whispered, tugging on Luo Binghe’s sleeve. “Let’s leave them alone before they decide we’re prey too.”

Luo Binghe was pretty sure he could handle half a dozen rabbits, sharp teeth or not, but he obligingly followed Shen Qingqiu away from the clearing. Shen Qingqiu’s hand slid down from his sleeve to slip into Luo Binghe’s hand and squeeze gently. 

“I have one more thing I’d like to see,” Shen Qingqiu suggested, glancing up at his husband. “Unless Binghe would like to go home?”

“This disciple will go wherever Shizun wishes,” Luo Binghe answered immediately.

Shen Qingqiu scoffed, but side by side like this he couldn’t hide his smile behind his fan. He led Luo Binghe through the dense underbrush, following an overgrown trail up the mountain. They went higher and higher, high enough that it surely rivaled even Cang Qiong’s highest peaks, and then the trees finally parted and they found themselves at the very tip of the mountain. Luo Binghe’s eyes widened at the view, and Shen Qingqiu looked inordinately pleased. 

“It’s even better than described,” Shen Qingqiu muttered, and Luo Binghe wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear that. Shen Qingqiu tugged him along until they stood at the absolute highest point of the mountain, overlooking the range of jagged peaks below them, followed by hills and rivers and distant fields. Shen Qingqiu let go of his hand to point out landmarks.

“There’s Huan Hua Palace and Hua Yue City,” he said, pointing to a city amidst the distant plains. “That other mountain range is Cang Qiong Mountain. And there,” he added, pointing to a winding river whose origins spilled from a tall snow capped mountain, “That’s the Luo River.”

“It’s beautiful,” Luo Binghe said truthfully. The recent snow had covered most of the nearby landscape in white, but the clear skies made the ground glitter and shine. This high up, they could see to nearly impossible distances, past familiar landmarks to places he only heard about on trade reports. He was suddenly filled with the hunger to sweep Shen Qingqiu up and fly to that farthest point, just to see his husband’s delight at exploring a new place.

Beside him, Shen Qingqiu had a small, smug smile. “I thought Binghe would like it. This master apologizes, but Binghe’s birthday snuck up on him this year. I would’ve done something more special if I’d planned earlier, but hopefully this is enough for now. Oh!” he exclaimed, a puff of air escaping his mouth into the frosty air. “Binghe must be cold. Hold on.”

He began rummaging around in his qiankun sleeve, giving Luo Binghe a moment to admire the flush on Shen Qingqiu’s cheeks from the crisp air and the contented tilt to his lips. The view was beautiful, yes, but it was made all the more beautiful by the man next to him. If he said that out loud, Shen Qingqiu would surely scold him for being sappy, so he kept that thought to himself and waited patiently for Shen Qingqiu to extract whatever he was looking for.

“Here,” Shen Qingqiu said, pulling out a warm flask and pressing it into Luo Binghe’s hands. “I special ordered that dark tea you like. The flask is your Shang-shishu’s design.” He traced his finger over the talisman carved into the flask. “Despite the man’s many faults, he is the expert at surviving in cold temperatures. This master thought we could share the tea and enjoy the view before returning to our inn. How does that sound?”

Luo Binghe couldn’t resist. He leaned in and pressed a kiss directly to his husband’s mouth. Shen Qingqiu made a startled little noise but he kissed back easily. When they eventually pulled apart, Luo Binghe nuzzled their cold noses together.

“Thanking Shizun,” he murmured, smiling. 

Shen Qingqiu hummed, seeming distracted by Luo Binghe’s proximity. He leaned away, his cheeks flushed for reasons beyond the cold, and pointed his folded fan at the flask. “Binghe better enjoy that tea. It wasn’t easy to find, you know.”

“Of course.” Luo Binghe grinned and led him over to a broad stone they could sit together on. “Though, forgive this ignorant disciple the question, but… how does Shizun know this one’s birthday?”

Shen Qingqiu’s fan snapped open and covered his face as his eyes darted away. “Lucky guess.” 

“I see.” Luo Binghe nodded, schooling his expression into something neutral. “It’s just, this one did not even know his own birthday. Shizun is truly knowledgeable.”

Shen Qingqiu glanced back at him and his eyes narrowed over his fan. “Does Binghe not want to celebrate today? This master had planned to continue celebrations in our room at the inn after we finished our tea, but if Binghe insists it is not his birthday…”

Luo Binghe drank his tea so quickly it would’ve burned his tongue if not for his accelerated healing. Shen Qingqiu graciously did not snort at him. No, that noise was definitely a dignified chuckle. Certainly nothing so inelegant as a snort that made him hunch his shoulders and shake. Never.

The tips of his ears and nose were losing feeling from the chill, but he was warm where Shen Qingqiu’s hand brushed against his and where their thighs pressed together. 

Awash in bliss, the zealot built. Redstone and blocks flowed from his hands as though he created them himself, though he knew they were a blessing from the sun. Blessed! He was blessed, truly.

Something stuttered. A few blocks he placed were wrong. He broke them and tried again, but still, they were wrong.

Irritated, he turned to look at what was disrupting his work. What wrench was this in his perfect gears?

It was a body.

A rare thing, but not impossible. 

He landed on the ground next to it, the first time his feet had touched the ground in days. Months. Years. 

The corpse would only take up two blocks. The zealot’s plan changed around the corpse, forming around it like a pearl around a grain of sand. The red light would make concessions.

His shoe caught on the corpse’s red sweater. Annoyed, the zealot shook it off and rose into the air again.

Someone screamed.

How beautiful it all is! the zealot thought. How beautiful! He smiled happily, dumbly. How flexible, how amenable was the sun!

As he continued, he found a different corpse. He only allowed himself to be annoyed for a moment. The change was faster now, and his path swerved to avoid it. He barely had a chance to notice the cracked mechanical green eye.

Something felt tight in the zealot’s chest.

How lucky am I! he thought. To live in a world where the sun will never set!

How many corpses were there? As he kept moving, they kept getting in his way. A shock of yellow hair. Curled goat horns. A pink jacket. More than five, more than ten. Green armor. A striped shirt. A metal arm. This would disrupt an entire segment of the design, but the red light smoothed over any worry, any distress.

Why was it so hard to breathe?

It was all part of the grand design. It would all work out. They would be entombed in the machine, hidden from view. They would not be a blemish on the world for much longer. They would be as much a part of it as the zealot now was.

The light seemed to sparkle as it reflected off the bloodstained quartz.

A tear tracked down the zealot’s cheek. 

How lucky they are! To stay here forever, a part of this beautiful, beautiful creation!

The tears continued to fall. He ignored them. After all, he had work to do.