#baze writes

Jin Yuanyuan had become a famous fashion designer, known for her street-style hanfu clothing lines. She had amassed 6.6 million followers on Weibo and 8.8 million followers on Douyin over the years and had built her own empire of clothing shops around the world.

It all started back in 2016, when Jin Yuanyuan was only seventeen, armed with her phone and her dreams. She could count on two hands the number of followers she had when she started posting pictures of her designs online—one of which was her private account, and three were her close friends who would sometimes do some modeling for her.

Unfortunately, all of her ‘models’ were male, so one of them had to model some of the more feminine pieces with her to make it more balanced. Of course, the person who drew the shortest stick was Wang Ye.

Wang Ye didn’t mind it as much as he thought he should. Their weekly night photoshoots were good distractions from cram school and the reason why he was enrolled in so many of them. His grades had been slipping away, sure, but it wasn’t because he needed extra help. It was just that—his grades, the gaokao? It all felt meaningless.

But dressing up as a Qing-Dynasty princess whose robes were cut a little too short and tight to be accurate? He could at least derive some meaning from that—some purpose—even if it was as simple as helping his friend.

Besides, having a night out with his friends as someone who wasn’t entirely him—the boy who was wasting his time and his parents’ money—felt… freeing.

Out at night, under the warm lighting of the restaurants in the hutongs they frequent, she was a demure noble lady always hiding behind fans. Or if the outfits were more urbanized, they were some mysterious person, skateboarding through the streets of Sanlitun with a face mask and a cap.

Out at night, he was him. But also, her and them and all the possibilities he knew were unreachable except for this short moment out of time.

That was nine years ago. Jin Yuanyuan had eventually realized her dreams, and Wang Ye could stop dressing up for her. But it felt as if Wang Ye still wore a costume even after hiding away the box of robes Jin Yuanyuan gave him as a token of gratitude before going their separate ways—her to Paris and him to Wudang.

The very same box lay on his bed, very dusty, and the cardboard was already disintegrating. Surprisingly, the hanfu inside was untouched by time—the colors were as vibrant as he remembered: oranges and golds and green accents. Though perhaps that shouldn’t be a surprise at all, for it had never seen the sun all these years.

Wang Ye was back in Beijing, and he was without purpose once more. Zhang Chulan and the others came by to check on him, and Zhuge Qing was adamant that he showed Beijing’s nightlife, which he supposedly ‘had hidden from him the first time he visited.’

It would be a good distraction. He didn’t have a lot of that after they finally had quelled the burgeoning calamity due to the resurgence of the Eight Supremes.

He could don the robes and be everything all at once again. Size wouldn’t even be an issue. He could just shapeshift into a person who could fit in such old robes. He was more powerful now. He could be out of time and out of space.

The problem was his friends. His old ones would understand—Jin Yuanyuan had already understood, way before he even did. But he didn’t know what he would do if his new friends laughed at him or grimaced in disgust.

Ultimately, he decided that living in the uncertainty of whether or not he’d be accepted was far worse than being rejected. Besides, the robes weren’t too feminine anyway—that is, if you ignore the blatant inspirations from a ruqun. It would be fine.

He first met with Zhang Chulan, Feng Baobao, and Zhang Lingyu, who just raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t say anything.

“Wah, Lao-Wang,” he braced himself for whatever shameless nonsense that came out of Zhang Chulan’s mouth, but was surprised when the other only said, “You should’ve said that we’re dressing up! I didn’t know you liked hanfu street fashion. Are there rentals nearby?” Then Zhang Chulan gave him a coy look, saying, “Are you sponsoring us to have the full tourist package? I’ve always wanted to try a hanfu photoshoot! After you show us all there is in Beijing... We should go to Xi’an next~~”

He rolled his eyes, and whatever reply he had died on his lips when Feng Baobao left without saying anything. Out of everyone, he expected Feng Baobao to have a negative reaction the least. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, not knowing what to say or how to say it without choking.

“Aiyoh, Bao’er-jie! Wait up!” Zhang Chulan called out for her before turning to him, “She’s probably hungry already. Let’s go. Lao-Qing said he’s saving us a seat in that nai lao place you brought him to before. He said it was so packed that you had to sit on the sidewalk!”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “It’s because we came there at midday on a weekend. Nanluoguxiang is usually packed with people at that time. Tonight… we should be okay.”

He wasn’t lying when he said that, but they still lost one another in the crowds. Trusting that the others would eventually find their way, he went to find Zhuge Qing.

The man was on his phone when Wang Ye sat beside him. Five cups of frozen yogurt were already on the table, ready for them, kept cold by a small talisman underneath them. “Did you really do a divination to get our orders? Such an unnecessary risk. Tsk, tsk, tsk.”

Zhuge Qing finally looked up from his phone, almost dropping it when he saw him. “A-ah... Meimei, sorry but I’m reserving this table for my friends.”

“Lao-Qing, ah. Didn’t you hear what I just said? Don’t you recognize me?” He didn’t change much about his face. He had always liked it, to be honest—the roundness and sharpness of it were all in balance. He just made himself a little shorter and had his body fill out the parts of the robes that were meant for the curves of a woman.

“Lao-Wang?”

“There you guys are!” Zhang Chulan excused himself through the crowd. He was now wearing some cheap hanfu rental and was followed by the others in similar clothing. “Lao-Qing, go find some robes too!”

“Ah?”

“Ai, just do it; ask later.” Zhang Chulan hauled the other up from his seat.

“But my nai lao...”

“Eat it later. Go, go, go! We’ll wait for you here.” He pushed the poor man out the door and then turned to him. “Lao-Wang, Lao-Wang! Bao’er-jie has something for you.” He gestured for the woman to come closer.

With all the seriousness and true sincerity, Feng Baobao declared, “Someone once told me: a pretty lady should have pretty things.” Then she presented what looked like a simple hairpin at first, but it had such exquisite, engraved patterns along the stick.

“Ah-hah... But Lao-Wang, that’s part of the rental package, okay? So, it’s yours only for tonight...”

That didn’t matter. He’d probably just buy it from the rental place. “Thank you,” he said to Feng Baobao. “This is very lovely.”

“Mn. Can I eat that?”

“Sure, go ahead,” he replied, chuckling. If some of the fullness of his heart spilled out, nobody commented on it. But he kept smiling as he put the pin in his hair, and they started their eating spree with the yogurts.

Later, Zhuge Qing rejoined them. They texted him that they were already at the fifth store down the river, sampling some stinky tofu this time. The robes that he chose—they were of the same shade as the green accents of Wang Ye’s robes, and the accents, while not entirely the same shade, were gold and a light brown that was almost orange.

“Do you like it?” He asked, sidling up to Wang Ye, who didn’t follow the others and just stayed outside.

“Yeah...”

“Aiyoh, but Lao-Wang~ I didn’t have enough money to get some accessories too…” This fox pouted at him. As if he wanted for money. Regardless, Wang Ye took one of his other hairpins—careful not to pull out the one that Feng Baobao gave him—and offered it to the man.

“Put it on me?” Zhuge Qing was already tilting his head down without waiting for his answer.

He sighed at this guy’s antics but still untied Zhuge Qing’s hair. He finger-combed it a few times before rolling it into a bun and sticking the pin to hold it up. His hands lingered. “Thank you. For not making this weird.” He said because he needed to say it to someone, and it felt like it would be easier if it were to Zhuge Qing. A lot of things felt easier with Zhuge Qing.

“Now why would anybody make it weird?” Zhuge Qing straightened up, catching his hands as they slid. “You’re just being you.”

“Woah, woah, woah, Lao-Qing! How come your robes look like they’re better quality? Where did you get that?”

“A-Lian, this is your karma for forcing me away from my yogurt.”

“You could’ve eaten it while waiting for us, you know.”

“I can’t start eating without you guys, can I? But the opposite is clearly not the case!”

The group continued down the road along the river, lined with lanterns and willow trees whose leaves dance and sway to the song of the wind.

Wang Ye was right all along. Everything ended up all right.

--

--

Feng Baobao 

Lv. 17 Barbarian (Path of Wild Magic): For this “campaign” I’m considering the Eight Supremes as some kind of Feywild magic. FBB, having been resurrected by the Supremes, is imbued with Wild Magic that powers her Rage. She’s Level 17—meaning, she’s almost a god. But she came back “wrong” and couldn’t really tap into the memories of her cultivation, so her powers come in bursts of Wild Magic.  

Weapon of Choice (WOC): Ruyi or Spade with either Hoopak or Mace stats LOL 

Aasimar: Since she got resurrected, she’s technically undead. But. I didn’t want her to be undead so she’s an angel instead—well, half-angel... well! If we’re being pedantic, Aasimars are half-Celestials, not necessarily an angel, but you get it... 

Soldier: After wandering for decades without a purpose, she was taken in by a nice family that ended up as noble family of a small fiefdom. With a great blood debt owed, she has trained to be the Xu family’s soldier and has been its protector since. 

High STR + CON: She’s the strongest of the party and could possibly endure all kinds of poisoning and illnesses. 

Low CHA: Zero ego. She has the clarity of a high-level monk/cleric/paladin and has long since shed all desires and ties from the physical world.  

Miscellaneous Feats: Alert—she can’t be surprised due to her keen perception; Crusher—she’s a monster with her spade, what else can I tell ya? 

As a player: FBB probably plays a lot of fighter/tank characters that need zero bookkeeping. She just likes to hack and slash or hulk smash stuff. 

Zhang Chulan 

Lv. 5 Rogue (Mastermind): He’s a good fighter, but he excels a lot more in a support role. He’s the schemer of the party and can take the tactician role while in combat. Mastermind is more of a roleplay role, but it’s still a base rogue, so he can pack a punch. Also, I don’t remember where he got the Proficiency in INT Saves, but I’m assuming it’s from Mastermind? He has mid base INT stat but he can outsmart anyone who’s trying to outsmart him. 

Lv. 4 Warlock (Hexblade Patron): After the death of his grandfather, his only family left, he meets FBB and they do that mindmeld thing where the final teachings from his grandfather was passed onto FBB then passed onto him. During the mindmeld, he also learns of the ways that FBB has protected him throughout the years and so, he makes a pact to protect FBB in return. They have the whole dynamic of FBB is the blade and ZCL is the swordmaster, hence, the Hexblade subclass. 

WOC: Daggers with Booming Blade Spell (deals thunder damage) 

Human: He’s just a guy 

Aberrant Heir: He is the Heir of one of Eight Supremes, and to keep him “pure,” his grandpa gave him an aberrant dragonmark (the tortoise celibacy mark LOL). He has lived all his life in hiding and has become proficient in disguises. 

Middling Stats: He’s just a guy. 

Misc. Feats: Lucky—flavored as something that’s due to FBB’s secret interference; Speedy—he has a low AC for a rogue, so I wanted to give him more survivability, but also, he is very speedy—lightning-speed, shall we say LOL 

As a player: ZCL is very good at using spells in creative ways. So. He’s usually banned from doing full caster characters (cleric, wizard, druid) in a lot of tables LOL He can still be a little shit with fighter roles though, especially when he multiclasses. 

Lu Linglong 

Lv. 10 Paladin (Oath of the Watchers): The Watchers for this setting is the group of LLL’s friends who work under Lu Jin. They “protect mortal realms from the predations of extraplanar creatures” (source: Tasha’s), and since the Eight Supremes are from Feywild, that implies that the Quan Xing is Fey and extraplanar. 

WOC: Lance because for a short woman, she absolutely loves the reach of it. 

Shadowmoor Elf: This kind of elves kinda looks like Linglong during Nasen Island Arc, so I couldn’t help myself. Shadowmoor elves protect beauty and who they consider beautiful is someone who’s heroic and self-sacrificing—perfect ideation for paladins imo. 

Noble: The House of Lu, with Lu Jin as its patriarch, is one of the most prominent noble families in the land. 

High CHA: She is good with people, especially with people that she leads. She has a very strong sense of self and bad actors will have a very hard time possessing or charming her.  

Misc. Feats: Great Weapon Fighting—she’s a beast with her lance as she should be; Inspiring Leader—She was the leader of the Watchers up until QT kills a majority of them, and now she leads this group to avenge her brethren. 

As a player: I feel like LLL would be a versatile kind of player and would be group-oriented. Need a caster? She’ll play sorcerer. Need a healer? Cleric, no problem. Tank? BARB SMASH!! 

Wang Ye 

Lv. 9 Monk (Warrior of Elements): WY is a Daoist Monk idk what to tell you 

Lv. 6 Wizard (School of Chronurgy): I actually was so torn between Chronurgy (manipulation of time) and Graviturgy (manipulation of space) because both encompasses WY’s FHQM arghh I wish you can have multiple subclasses! D&D why can’t you be more like your better cousin, PF2e??? 

WOC: Taiji, sometimes with a quarterstaff, which doubly acts as his arcane focus. 

Tabaxi: CAT WANG YE 

Sage: He has read all the volumes of the Yijing and other scriptures in the Daoist canon. 

High INT: He is very smart and can learn new things with little to no hardships. 

Low CON + CHA: -1 CON is just too funny, okay? He’s too sickly to be anything else. He gets sick after a particularly spells-heavy fight. Low CHA too because like FBB, he has zero ego—no desires and is unbound by the material world. Also, he can’t get anyone to listen to him—his Persuasion should probably be –2 LMAOOO 

Misc. Feats: Fey-Touched—again, Feywild Eight Supremes, and Zhou Sheng is particularly invested in him; Observant—he is good at gaining Insight from other people by observing. 

As a player: WY is the Forever DM (Dungeon Master) of his friend group because he’s a little control freak who likes to be god and have the world in his hands LMAO More seriously though, everyone just thinks that he’s the most capable with regards to DM-ing so they ask him. When he gets the chance to play though, he prefers to play characters with little to no bookkeeping but somehow, he almost always ends up either needing to change Classes or needing to multiclass because they need a caster. 

Zhuge Qing 

Lv. 14 Cleric (Knowledge Domain): Rounding up the party with a full caster healer. As a Shuist, ZGQ’s main goal in life is to acquire the Truth of the world—to obtain all knowledge there is to seek and gain. 

WOC: Double-headed Rope Dart, which is a finesse weapon (uses DEX for its attack rolls), even though his main stat isn’t DEX. He misses about ¾ of the time he uses it, and everyone gives him shit for it LOL 

Abyssal Tiefling: He has the blood of a demon coursing through his veins. Also also—a tiefling cleric is such an oxymoron, I love it. 

Spellfire Initiate: He bears his family’s most brilliant legacy—True Fire of Samadhi—that channels the raw power of the Weave. It takes a heavy toll on the body, so he has trained both mind and body to efficiently wield its sacred power. 

High WIS + CHA: ngl I wanted ZGQ to be a Paladin at first with the subclass, Oath of Devotion (for his wife LMAO) and that’s why he has high CHA, but also it makes sense for his character to have a strong sense of self even though it got shaken when he first meets WY. Clerics are WIS-based and even so, I didn’t give him the max stat of 20 because I don’t think he has earned like enlightenment-level of WIS. 

Rest of the Stats: He has fairly good stats ngl. While rolling for his base stats, he got so lucky that I didn’t have to reroll after the first try, which is very him. He’s lucky and a good all-rounder with even stats. 

Misc. Feats: Actor—duh; Sentinel—usually used for WY because WY’s Max HP is half of ZGQ’s lmaooo (again, WY and his low CON lolol) so whenever someone wants to chase down and attack their squishy warlock, ZGQ whips out his rope dart or Wind Rope to keep them in place; Symbiotic Being—he doesn’t only have blood of a demon in his veins, there is a physical embodiment of his poisonous envy and greed and wrath in his heart (it’s the heart demon) 

--

「Are you done being in denial now? If you still can’t believe it, why not just ask the Inner Realm?」

Zhuge Qing did just that. It was a simple yes-or-no query, so the divination orb wasn’t too hard to break. A vision flooded his mind’s eye— 

Wang Ye was bathed in warm, golden light, a bundle of cloth in his arms. He turned to the Qianyuan, his smile as bright as the sun that haloed him. He lifted the bundle—which squirmed and cooed—revealing a pudgy face that was the perfect combination of them both.  

From Wang Ye’s strong brows and high-bridged nose to Zhuge Qing’s thin lips and peach blossom eyes. Framed by the thick, long lashes of the mother were the father’s brilliant blue eyes. Then the child smiled, which made the Qianyuan’s heart melt as it was the exact copy of the Kunze’s dimpled smile. They reached out to him and— 

The phantasm ended. But the scene had been seared to his mind as he could still perceive echoes of it even when he inevitably came to in the waking world. He slumped to the side of the bed—unseeing except for that tiny half-closed fist stretching towards him; unhearing except for that babbling and garbled laughter. 

The Qianyuan stayed in such a state until the light of the breaking dawn filled the room, and he could feel its warmth. His gaze settled on the sleeping Kunze, whose figure was outlined with a golden glow just like in the vision. He picked himself up and slid back under the covers. 

Zhuge Qing swept the hair out of the other’s face and caressed it a little. He couldn’t help but give Wang Ye a kiss—first to the lock of hair in his hand, then onto the other’s forehead, then on the mole on his eyelid, down to his nose, and each of his steamed-bun cheeks. 

And finally, to the Kunze’s lips—softly and sweetly as he poured every emotion that threatened to spill over from his heart: the joy and gratefulness for the unexpected gift, and the overwhelming love for his mate and their unborn child. 

The sleepy cat stirred in his sleep, murmuring something unintelligible.  

“Lao-Wang?” He whispered to the skin on the corner of the Kunze’s lips. “Xiao-Ye, were you saying something?” 

“...settle your heart...spirit will be clear...naturally the Six Desires...not arise...” 

“Ah??? Are you quoting the Sutra of Clarity and Tranquility to me?” 

Wang Ye groaned, and he could feel a hand going blindly and lazily up to the ends of his hair and tugging at it. “You insatiable fox… What are you doing so early in the morning?” 

“Wait—did you recite the sutra to—hah—to make me forget about my desires?” said the Qianyuan, breaking into chuckles. “Wang-daozhang, do I look like one of your martial siblings? You think that’ll work on me?” 

“You—! We already did it so many times last night, why aren’t you satisfied yet?” 

“Aiyah, Lao-Wang has such a dirty mind. I wasn’t even thinking about it before. I just wanted to kiss my mate. But now that you mentioned it…” 

“You want to eat dirt again?” The little cat bared his cute Kunze canines. But then the other turned more serious as he fully opened his eyes and blinked away any grogginess. “Did you get any sleep at all?” 

“Not really… I was going to be awake soon anyway, so…” 

“I’m really sorry for waking you up.” 

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” Especially when it revealed the most auspicious news. Of course, since he learned about it through divination, he couldn’t outright say that. But he could still say, “I’m glad that I was woken up.” 

“You masochist weirdo...” 

“How am I a weirdo? Can’t I take comfort in the fact that I was with you during such a trying time?” 

The other stared at him with an unreadable look. He must have found something on Zhuge Qing’s face since he just sighed and accepted it. “I already love you, alright?” He said, freely and effortlessly—lightly but no less heavy with affection.  

Before Zhuge Qing could ask him why he suddenly said it, or even before he could say it back, the Kunze changed the subject and looked out the window, “What time is it anyway? Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” 

“Five more minutes,” the Qianyuan whined and plopped onto the other, burying his face into the crook of the latter’s neck. He took in the smell of lotus and earth, and now that he knew to look for it, the milky and powdery undertones that were usual for an expecting Kunze. Oh, how he wished he could just stay forever in his mate’s arms. 

“You can go back to sleep while I stay here for a bit.” 

Wang Ye grunted, but relented, “Okay... Wake me up before you go?” 

He smiled and laid another soft kiss below the other’s ear. It wasn’t long until the Kunze’s breathing evened out again with a sigh. 

--

--

According to the information provided by Zhuge Qing’s father, once a week, a bunch of nobodies from the Shu Sect would set out on a boat from this port—presumably delivering provisions for the week to Chen Jinkui on the island that the creepy, old man was holding Wang Ye hostage in. 

His inner Qianyuan had been so restless since he had learned of this and the implications of a Qianyuan forcing a Kunze to… accompany him on an island, just the two of them together. 

He would have thought that, as a society in the brave new world, humanity had long since abandoned such disgusting behavior. Then again, wasn’t there an American who was notorious for having an island where he would bring young girls and Kunze to do despicable things to them? And even after being outed as a sex offender, the fucking monster would still bring people to that island up until he died. 

Sure, Zhuge Qing might have had thought of isolating Wang Ye from the world once or twice in a passing intense bout of possessiveness. But he would never ever do that to his mate. 

Chen Jinkui, on the other hand, could easily be the same kind of monster, as he had been keeping Wang Ye on his island for over twenty days. 

“You know what I don’t understand? Why doesn’t the boss just force the little Kunze to hand over Feng Hou Qimen?” As soon as Zhuge Qing heard that, he opened his eyes and scanned the harbor with Immaculate Scrutiny. 

“Aiyah, you young people, so impatient. There is more than one way to attack the heart. What do the foreigners say? ‘You catch more flies with honey.’ A gentle hand makes for a softer and more pliant, pretty, little thing.” 

“What fly? Don’t you mean a butterfly? The little Kunze is very easy on the eye—very tasty, right? If this tactic fails, do you think the boss will let us have a bite—?”  

The thug was cut off as Zhuge Qing teleported to where they were hiding and slammed him to the side of a yacht docked nearby, metal and bones crunching at the force of it. The impact made him spit blood, and the Qianyuan, who had just suddenly appeared, was unfazed as it got on his face and clothes. 

“What the—?” 

“Who the fuck are—?” 

Feng Baobao was quick to follow the fox on a hunt and easily took care of the others, her trusty shovel banging onto their kneecaps to prevent them from taking a stand or running away. Zhuge Qing paid little mind to them and only set up the Four Pillars Barrier to keep their screams from being heard by the mundane people. 

He crushed the windpipe of the guy he was holding. That would teach him not to talk about his Kunze in such a vulgar manner. The thug wheezed and choked, and as Zhang Chulan finally caught up to them, he panickily screamed, “Oh heavens, Lao-Qing, he’s going to die!” 

The Qianyuan just impassively looked at him, then at the guy who was now writhing as survival instincts kicked in at the feeling of oxygen deprivation. He held out a hand to the Nadoutong employee and asked, “Can I have a pen?” 

“What? Is now really the time?” 

“You don’t want him to die, do you?” 

Zhang Chulan cursed under his breath but patted around his person to look for a pen. When he found one, he immediately handed it to him.  

But Zhuge Qing took his time unscrewing the end so he could take out the ink, leaving just the hollow tube-like case. He kneeled by the thug and stabbed him in the neck with it. 

“What the fuck?!” The others all simultaneously shrieked. 

The man on the floor tried to scream himself as well, but the air from his lungs could only come out of the haphazard substitute for a trach through his throat. It whistled almost comically if not for how gruesome the sight was. 

Zhuge Qing might not have become a medical professional like his mother, but he had ample knowledge of human anatomy and some medical procedures. And he knew full well how painful it was for the disgusting thug. At the very least, he would live. 

He stood up straight again. With a sinister smile on his face, he turned to the other lowlifes. “Now, which one of you can bring me to Chen Jinkui, hmm?” 

--

--

Zhuge Qing absentmindedly caressed the hand in his. “It’s unfortunate we didn’t get to sit-in in more classes back in Bagua Village because there is one concept from our bone-reading lectures that comes to mind right now: ‘People reshape their bones, change the patterns on top, and endure great pain to change their fate. Their appearances do change, but ultimately their bones remain the same.’ 

“Now, you can interpret this in many ways... But for me, it means that you can change your state without betraying your nature. The earth can be harsh and ruthless to produce precious gems and metals. It can also be gentle and comforting, where delicate flowers grow. But it is still the same dirt that provides. 

“To become Formless is to achieve Perfection—which for Daoists is to be in your most natural, pure state, right? But guess what, Lao-Wang? Humanity is the most natural thing in this world. And we’re a hotpot of all sorts of states. Didn’t you say it yourself? We’re made of quanta, so we behave like them too. Maybe, we can learn something from their tendency to superpose.” 

The Qianyuan swept the Kunze’s errant hair that had fallen on his face to the back of his ears. “Your compassion and graciousness. Your fierceness and tendency to bully your poor, poor husband. Your unending kindness and you getting jealous over the weirdest things. Every state of you that is stupid or beautiful or both—it's you. All of it, it has always been you. You don’t have to force yourself to fit into some mold just to find yourself, because you’re here. This is you.”

--

--

Zhuge Qing and Wang Ye walked deeper into the park—into the woods, on a path that seemed to be rarely used as grass and weeds grew out on the cracks of the pavement. They walked and walked until they reached a small pavilion away from all the park-goers. 

Wang Ye just climbed the short steps and sat on the long bench. With a poor posture, like a cat showing its belly to its most beloved owner, he slid into a lazy position. “Sit,” he said, waving towards a spot next to him. 

Like a fox with its tail between its legs, he did. 

The Kunze took out a paper bag from his bag and tossed it to him. He smelled the steamed buns before he could even check what was inside it. 

“You haven’t eaten yet, right? Knowing you... You would’ve moped around until I texted you,” Wang Ye grumbled that final part under his breath. “The big ones are filled with pork while the smaller ones are filled with custard. Because, well... Sweet things can make you feel better, right?” 

He grabbed one meat bun, a lump in his throat forming and his eyes blurring at unshed tears. He practically inhaled the food—not just because he hadn’t eaten all day, but also because it was as if if he didn’t eat them fast enough, then he wouldn’t have the entirety of Wang Ye’s grace and forgiveness. 

He inevitably choked on a piece he didn’t chew well, and the Kunze patted his back and scolded him, “Slow down. You’d think I’m starving you, ah.”  

Then the other handed him his thermos. Fortunately, the water was already lukewarm because he had just gone for it. He continued eating at a slower pace so as not to worry Wang Ye anymore. As he did, the other sighed and slid back into the half-sitting-half-lying position and just observed him.  

After a while, the Kunze said, “Zhang Chulan told me you almost went Feral. It must have been a rough couple of weeks for you... Your emotions must have been...” Another sigh, but much deeper—as if it was weighed down by great sorrow and regret. “I should’ve approached this more delicately. I shouldn’t have left so suddenly. I’m sorry.” 

Mouth still filled with food, the Qianyuan frantically shook his head. Hastily swallowing down the food, he clumsily said, “No, no. It’s me who should be sorry. I shouldn’t have... I shouldn’t have raised my voice. I shouldn’t have...”  

He trailed off, not really having the heart to say that he regretted his words. He did regret how he had said them. But as harsh as they were, he meant it when he said that he wouldn’t choose anything or anyone over Wang Ye. 

Of course, the other understood the words unsaid. He curled up in dejection—the cat had hidden its belly once more, and if Zhuge Qing wasn’t careful, he would chase it away again.  

“You know,” Wang Ye said, putting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward, “People would run away from an argument because they don’t want to hear something they don’t want to hear... It seems that even without actually hearing the words, it’s still...” He looked away, sniffling and wiping away the tears he didn’t want the Qianyuan to see. 

He set aside the paper bag, wiping his hands clean of crumbs or sauces that might have stained his fingers. He approached the Kunze—slowly enough for the other to reject his advances if he wanted to. He cradled his face and turned it towards him again, “Then you say what you want to say. I promise I will listen to you with an open heart.” 

Many, many months ago, he promised Madam Wang that he would always listen to her son and that he would do his best to take care of him. He hadn’t been the best partner recently, and all he could do to rectify that was be better. 

Wang Ye looked at him with undiscernible eyes. Who knew what went on in the other’s head that ran faster than what even Zhuge Qing’s mind could ever catch up to? Hands clung to his wrists, hanging for dear life—an odd parody of how last night started for them. He just hoped that today would end much better than then. 

The Kunze pulled his hands off the other’s face. They held hands instead as Wang Ye turned to fully face him, one of his legs tucked in under him while the other dangled. He sighed and looked out of the pavilion. 

--