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WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, XIAO.XINGCHEN. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 018.07.154.55 * XIAO.XINGCHEN has joined 018.07.154.55 <XIAO.XINGCHEN> You have reached Xiao Xingchen. <XIAO.XINGCHEN>** I am often away from my laptop, but I will do my best to answer as soon as I'm able.

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[ He hums softly at the praise for his good care, though he finds himself inclined to disagree. If he truly took good care of Xiao Xingchen, then he would be sheltered at Lotus Pier, waited on hand and foot. But he would not appreciate being treated as helpless and Jiang Cheng isn't all that useful for waiting on people either, so fussing over him during the time they spend together will have to do. ]

Let me see. [ He gently cradles Xingchen's wrist and brings the hand holding the pouches closer so he can take a sniff, followed by a pensive hum. ] This one here [ he declares, plucking the pouch with the tea blend smelling of cinnamon and honey from his hand to open it for him before he hands it back. Not that he thinks Xingchen can't, but, well... He never agreed not to fuss before the tea is done. ] Once the tea is done, there is hardly anything left to do; that's cheating. But if you will agree to rest then without fighting me for it, I will take it.

[ He's even going to be quiet and patient while his husband works, content enough to hold him in his arms. He had wanted to wait with the question until they are drinking tea, at least, but he has never been good holding back his words. Thus, he doesn't even make it back to the table before he blurts out, ] And will you let me look at your injury?

( while xingchen would certainly appreciate the effort put forth for his care regardless of the form it might take, he is capable of caring for himself and it's true that he would prefer that fact be recognized - especially now that his husband has lanzhu to attend to. a degree of fatigue is hardly concerning enough to draw focus away from the open-air cavity in the poor girl's chest.

but a couple of days have passed by now since lanzhu's own changes began, and the news which jiang wanyin has offered in the interim has been-... well, not promising per se, but at least lacking in quite the same urgency - and xingchen can't deny that he has missed him. perhaps wanyin may be fussing somewhat more than usual, but perhaps today xingchen is also somewhat more inclined to allow it. and besides, some of it is really just effective teamwork, like the way that wanyin opens the pouch of tea while xingchen is putting the other away, earning an appreciative crackly little 'mm' as the pouch is reclaimed and some of the blend inside is scooped into the little metal tea ball he's taken to using for steeping their teas. all the while, jiang wanyin is delivering his conditional acceptance of the offered terms (xingchen presumes it understood that his lack of objection serves as confirmation, in light of the state of his voice at the moment) - but then, 'and will you let me look at your injury?' he can't help but exhale a quiet smile (this has to be his third in the last minute alone, truly a lovestruck fool) and nod a little. ) Of course. ( once the tea is prepared, that is, but he assumes that much is understood. the teapot has begun to hiss ever-so-slightly, so it shouldn't be much longer, regardless. )

[ It may not be said as such, but Jiang Cheng understands well enough that Xiao Xingchen won't be deterred from the task he has claimed for himself. So he surrenders with minimal grumbling and watches without any further fussing as Xingchen pours the hot water, though he then swoops in to help with carrying everything to the table before he takes a seat. ]

There. See? I hardly helped at all. [ He offers his bare hands up for mock inspection, too. ]

But... I do want to help. [ He can't help it, it's not so much about the helping itself, even, just... He chews on his bottom lip, voice quiet when he speaks up again. ] It was so close last month. I could have lost you. And then you got injured. [ And now he will be leaving on a mission for the Fourth which might or might not blow up terribly in his face. It's all a lot, and he still has to recover from the fright of nearly losing him to the flowers. ] All I want is some uneventful time, where we can both rest and recover without anything new happening. But that is unlikely to come about, is it?

( though the offering of hands for inspection goes unseen, the sentiment is conveyed well enough by tone that xingchen crackles a pleased little hum and nods in approval. it's true, jiang wanyin did help fantastically little - certainly little enough to have upheld his end of their bargain.

but they've hardly arrived at the table when wanyin is once again fretting about the wildflowers and the aftermath thereof. and it's not that it's unreasonable for him to fret, certainly not... xingchen merely wishes that there were something he could do to ease his husband's mind about it, just as jiang wanyin wishes he might ease some of that which ails xingchen himself. the wish for uneventful time is certainly one which they share (and xingchen is pleasantly surprised that so optimistic a wish had truly come from wanyin, a man typically so very prone to expect the worst), but what follows is true, as well. it seems that nary a month goes by without some sort of incident of note. his agreement comes in the form of a faintly apologetic smile - not blaming himself, per se, but apologetic nonentheless - and then, )

You couldn't have have lost me. ( quiet words to match jiang wanyin's (or did wanyin speak softly to match him? xingchen can't help the warm flicker of appreciation, whether or not such a thing was true), and they carry with them a fond note of the sort of impotent scolding reserved for when a loved one might perhaps be fretting a bit more than is needed. ) If we're to lament the state of my soul outside of this realm, then it's only fair to insist we take note of the benefits as well. Should I lose my life here, I've nowhere to go but right back here at first sign of the fog.

( but after a moment, one hand unfolds from around the other to reach out and settle on jiang wanyin's. ) I know that such a thing doesn't put your worry to rest. That wasn't my intention. ( and in fact, the hand slides from atop his companion's to instead slip inside it, fingers finding the spaces between wanyin's and intertwining loosely. ) It's sweet that you worry. ( which sounds very much like 'sweet' means 'one of the ways in which he makes xingchen feel so wonderfully cared for'. ) But there's no need to fear. I suppose that's all I meant to convey.

Of course I'm going to worry! What kind of husband or friend would I be if I didn't worry for you! That you will be brought back wouldn't make dying any less painful or horrible for you. [ And... Well, alright, it would make it less horrible for Jiang Cheng, to some extent, at least. Knowing that death isn't finite is inevitably going to change how he handles it; he is far too sensible a man to fool himself into believing his response won't be changed. But that doesn't mean it won't hurt, or that he won't be worried what parts of himself Xingchen will lose, or if his luck - his open defiance of the Fog God - means that his husband will be the one who doesn't come back from death.

All these thoughts are enough to make him cling tightly to Xiao Xingchen's hand. Maybe clinging a bit too tightly, tight enough to hurt, though that is only for a moment before he catches himself and softens his hold to something gentler. ]

We should... [ He gestures at the tea with his other hand. ] We should drink. Before it gets cold. Your work would go to waste.

( and while it does still make him ache with the expected empathy, xingchen can't help but feel terribly endeared by the way that his husband so fiercely defends his right to worry. it's a thing which xingchen has explicitly condoned, even expressed appreciation for, and yet one might think from the response that he had criticized it. of all the things to push back against, he chose the one single thing which xingchen unambiguously took his side on. truly living up to his capacity to protest quite literally anything, a capacity which xingchen has commented on so very fondly more than once.

on a more serious note, he does wonder if it would change wanyin's perspective any to know that the most helpful thing he might do, on such an unfortunate occasion as xingchen's temporary death, would be to spare his newly-revived husband the even less pleasant experience of wallowing in how terribly his death may have hurt jiang wanyin in turn. that isn't to say that wanyin should refrain from sharing his distress or his worry, but if the concern is how terribly painful or awful it may have been for xingchen, the point stands that wanyin's pain in the aftermath would be measurably more painful and awful than the death itself had been.

he knows, however, that attempting to explain as much would almost certainly be received as a request that his husband bottle up any fear, pain, or sadness he might feel - and in truth, explaining at all with his throat in its current state is not a particularly appealing prospect - and so he sets it aside for now, in favor of tea. he gives the hand in his a light squeeze of his own, perhaps not reciprocating wanyin's urgent grip but wordlessly acknowledging it, before he reclaims his own hand with intent to reach for the tea...

but it stops mid-reach, hovering in the air as it occurs to him (with no shortage of amusement): ) Does this fall under the purview of 'preparing tea'? ( or will he be forced to sit on his hands and allow wanyin to play host for him within his own home? )

It does! [ Jiang Cheng sounds quite self-important as he announces his judgment - his indisputable fact! - and gives Xingchen a stern look to make sure he won't disagree. He may not be able to see the look, but it is still satisfying to have given it. Jiang Cheng feels better for it, like he has taken one more step to assert his indisputable fact. ] So you better don't even think to argue. [ Or he could just go ahead and pour the tea, which is what he does now, though his other hand reaches out to rasp Xingchen's hovering hand.

But now they have tea, and they are sitting, which means they will soon have to get back to the other part of the visit, which means checking on Xingchen's injury. Far less pleasant than this domestic bickering, and full of thoughts of worst-case scenarios.

He sighs, suddenly finding himself far less self-satisfied with his tea fussing. ] You have been hurt twice now recently [ he brings up quietly. ] First the flowers and then Lanzhu's corrosion. Permit me to worry for you... and to check on you. Have you been healing well?

( the bark of 'it does!' has xingchen's brow knitting faintly, bemused by the self-importance of the response but all the more amused for it. the scolding to follow only solidifies that he isn't quite sure what's occurring - at least until jiang wanyin reaches out to snatch the tea for pouring, and xingchen barely suppresses a warm little laugh (which would likely have sounded more like a cough regardless) behind pressed lips and a subtly measured exhale. wanyin has mixed up the terms of their agreement, hasn't he? by their arrangement, xingchen was allowed to prepare the tea and nothing further.

of course, to clarify would only embarrass his husband, which is far from the reward he deserves for being so impossibly endearing - so instead, an affectionate murmur of: ) Certainly not. ( which in no way pretends to be anything but the 'i love you' that it is.

but then jiang wanyin has settled again, and something in the air feels to grow just a little bit heavier. xingchen's hands wrap around his cup of tea, still too hot to the touch in precisely the way that he has craved in these unusually chilly days since his latest approximation of death, as he listens to jiang wanyin segue back to talk of his worry. of the trials they've endured, though he speaks as if xingchen endured them alone - as if both occasions hadn't caused wanyin far more distress than they ever caused xingchen. 'have you been healing well?'

xingchen nods an affirmative. ) With the fog, as we hoped. ( a pause, and: ) You can examine it while the tea cools, if you'd prefer that be out of the way. ( or does jiang wanyin feel equipped to enjoy their tea without ruminating on what lies under the bandage? )

[ Oh. He looks right through all his protests and pretences, huh? Jiang Cheng can't help himself giving a sheepish grin and chuckle. He fusses with his tea, turning the cup in his hand and taking a sip. ]

I would prefer to have it out of the way [ he finally admits, still sounding a little sheepish. ] I... just find it hard to ignore it. [ It has been so hard for days and now that he finally has the opportunity to check on him, it is impossible not to be impatient.

Xiao Xingchen's offer is read as an invitation - or generously interpreted as one anyway, before he might change his mind - so he reaches for his husband again, going for the arm he had mentioned having injured this time. His fingers hover at the edge of the sleeve, ready to pull it up for an inspection, though his eyes flicker back to his face first. ] May I?

( despite the way in which jiang wanyin's acquiescence sounds not unlike a confession, none of that which he says comes as a surprise. in fact, xingchen may not have entirely believed him if wanyin had claimed that he wouldn't mind waiting through tea, though he probably wouldn't have pressed the matter. regardless, this is far simpler, and the 'i just find it hard to ignore' earns a slight dismissive headshake and the quiet curve of a smile, no words necessary to convey quite well enough that his husband's preoccupation is entirely understandable and nothing to be embarrassed by.

the offer was indeed an invitation, and one which jiang wanyin has answered so very thoughtfully at that. to the permission asked, xingchen releases his cup of tea with both hands, his free hand drawing back the loose sleeve of his robe to reveal bandaging wrapped diligently around his forearm, from just below the elbow to a hand's-width above the wrist. from here, the arm is offered out into jiang wanyin's care, what with him having two free hands to unwrap the bandaging compared to xingchen's one.

what lies underneath looks far better than it did just after the incident, no longer blackened and near-necrotic due largely to the fog. now it's a lesser mess of raw healing red interspersed with the telltale bloodless pale of lifeless skin which would no doubt peel away before the healing was through. no attempt is made to reassure jiang wanyin of any lack in severity. it would only seem patronizing, at this point, with the wound laid out before him to see for himself. )

[ Jiang Cheng's hands are painstakingly gentle as he peels back the bandage, baring one finger's width of bare skin after the other until the whole damage is laid out for his worried eyes. He does not touch, though his right hand hovers in uncertainty over his exposed forearm, while the left hand clutching the bandage has dropped into his lap. ]

It looks painful [ he murmurs, his voice as gentle as his hands had been, though neither his voice nor his hands are particularly used to being gentle. He didn't see the wound when it was fresh, which makes it harder to truly feel that this is better, even if he knows it to be true from having seen acid burns before on night hunts. This is miraculous healing for just a few days, he should be grateful, except...

How can he be grateful when Xingchen has suffered any hurt at all? He shakes his head a little and finally reaches out to very softly brush his fingers over the rough, uneven skin of his upper forearm. ] I'm glad to see you are healing. I... I just wish you would not have been harmed at all. [ It sounds so plaintive, even to his own ears. Not daring to grasp his forearm any further, he entangles their fingers instead. His eyes find Xingchen's face and he smiles, if a little bit chagrined. ] If I could, I would protect you from all harm, even unfortunate accidents like this one. I know I can't and you wouldn't be happy with the life you could have if I tried. But I still don't like seeing you hurt.

( xingchen has no doubt that it does look painful, though it doesn't quite feel like proper pain. that which a lich does isn't truly a burn, not even the acidic sort, and amidst the scattering of pain is a sort of incorrectness in sensation, like a radio's static put to flesh. this, too, has healed quite a bit since the incident - and even when it was fresh, he would hardly have called the pain and such 'suffering' regardless of how jiang wanyin might see it.

the brush of fingertips comes later than expected, and somewhat lighter than perhaps is necessary (the raised areas which receive the most attention also retain the least sensation, and wanyin certainly isn't seeking out the reddened recesses which burn a bit more to the touch), but xingchen allows his husband to examine the affliction at his own pace and in whichever manner he chooses. when those explorative fingertips eventually intertwine with his, he gives a light squeeze and slides his thumb along the back of jiang wanyin's. )

Perhaps on such inevitable occasions, ( he murmurs, a return smile curling his own lips at the corners ) you might endeavor to delight me enough that more good comes of it than bad. ( more good than bad by wanyin's own standards, even, since xingchen knows all too well that his husband wouldn't allow them to judge by xingchen's own own significantly higher threshold for discomfort or pain. )

Only you would say such a thing [ Jiang Cheng exclaims, somehow managing to sound thoroughly exasperated and deeply fond all at the same time. It's true, though, he can't imagine anyone else bluntly speaking of him alone being enough of a delight to make up for a terrible disaster like having his arm melting away. It's frustratingly optimistic and terribly loveable all at once, and the smile with which it comes makes his heart flutter in the most ridiculous manner. ] You're so... You.

[ He shakes his head in amused amazement but then that smile of his softens and the hand not entangled with Xingchen's reaches for his chin, cupping it gently as he leans in to brush a kiss to his lips. ] Thank you [ he whispers and decides to trust Xingchen will know how many things he is thanking him for, even if he finds it harder to speak bluntly of his feelings.

On the other hand, Xingchen does speak very openly with him... and that reminds him of the other thing he intended to do visiting today. Far less pleasant than fussing over him. He does so hate to worry him, but not telling him about the upcoming mission for the Fourth would be cruel both if he learns it from him only afterward and even more so if something goes wrong and he learns it from someone else. Better to worry him now. He clears his throat awkwardly. ] But there is another thing you need to know.

( to say that his arm has been melted away feels like a terrible exaggeration. his arm is almost entirely intact, if distinctly uncomfortable (and disconcerting to look at). xingchen would also like to think that he isn't the only one who would say what he did - that others, like him, seek the light and the joy in this place rather than simply resigning themselves to the pain of it - if only because the thought that he might be the only one is indescribably disheartening.

but it wasn't a comment intended for such deep consideration. it was an expression of adoration, and the fondness within it sweeps away any semblance of serious consideration like a warm summer tide. xingchen isn't even entirely sure what he's done to earn such incredulity, or how this was any different from that which jiang wanyin has come to expect of him - but it has won him terribly sweet little kiss, so perhaps it's best not to question his good fortune. to the 'thank you,' his throat forms by reflex the hum that might typically convey something like 'of course, airen', though of course it comes out more like the croak of a well-mannered frog. this, xingchen will trust his husband to understand, just as wanyin has done for him. (and he does, most certainly. perhaps xingchen doesn't know specifically what the gratitude is for, but in all likelihood, neither does jiang wanyin. how silly it would be, to try to pick it apart into identifiable pieces, wasting time that they might otherwise spend on such things as kissing again.)

as it turns out, no further kissing is to be had - at least not just yet. instead, wanyin's tone has gone serious, holding himself with a new sort of tension that he may not even quite notice... but xingchen does, of course. just as before, he strokes the back of his husband's thumb with his own, wordlessly soothing despite not yet knowing what for.

'but there is another thing you need to know.' with a slight tilt of his head, ) I'm listening. ( his free hand locates his tea all the while and brings the cup to his lips for a leisurely sip, an idle gesture steeped in normalcy to perhaps diffuse a bit of the unease. )

It is... [ Jiang Cheng momentarily abandons fussing over Xingchen's arm to go and fiddle with his cup of tea, never mind that there are only drops remaining in it. But it is something else to keep his hands busy while he figures out how to bring up this topic, and means he can look at the tabletop instead of meeting Xingchen's eyes.

This might hurt Xingchen, it might upset him, and he so hates to cause such feelings but... ]

I will be working on something in a couple of days, for the Fourth God. There is a mission, and when they asked for volunteers, I offered my services. They don't have many fighters, and if things turn ugly that could make a difference. [ None of which makes this sound particularly trust-inspiring, he realizes as he speaks, so he hastens to reassure, ] But it is very unlikely to turn violent. Things would have to go very wrong for that to happen. We mean to cause no harm. I just... [ He looks rolls the cup around in his hands some more. ] I wanted you to know. So you don't think I'm hiding things from you unnecessarily. I didn't want to speak of it on the laptop but there is no harm in speaking of it in person with someone I trust.

( if it helps, he wouldn't be meeting xingchen's gaze - merely looking at where it tends to be. had all of this come a fortnight later, perhaps xingchen might have been able to call forth his sight without inviting some manner of burrowing ache in the depths of his eyeless hollows, but for now, he has fallen back on well-worn sightless habits. in truth, he might very well have done so still if he could see. watching jiang wanyin as he speaks would do his unease no particular favors, not when xingchen can listen just as attentively with his not-gaze resting somewhere in the vicinity of wanyin's tea, his own teacup lowering to quietly settle once again on the tabletop.

but soon the confession(?) is through, and even though he has taken in every word, xingchen can't help but feel as though he has missed something. specifically, he has missed whichever facet of this fairly confession has warranted such hesitation or uncertainty. did wanyin think him so likely to protest this work for his chosen god? they had known such a thing was a facet of pledging oneself to a god in the first place.

and so first he offers a muted hint of a smile, a murmured: ) I'm glad that you've told me. ( a beat of pause, of consideration, and: ) What is it that you seek to do?

[ He exhales in a whoosh, relieved that Xiao Xingchen isn't reacting badly to the news. Curious, but not badly. Curious, he can handle, at least to some extent. ] There is only so much I know [ he admits, a little sheepishly. It's embarrassing to admit to such ignorance, and yet... ] I have only just pledged myself to the Fourth God. I don't want to demand too many explanations or details, for fear that they believe I'm trying to spy on them for the Fog.

[ He nudges his empty cup around on the table, simply to keep his hands busy. ]

We want some of these vacuums, with which the Haftesal people suck up the fog. There is still a chance we can negotiate with Haftesal for them, and we won't need to steal them. [ A moment's pause, another sigh. ] Although it will be safer for Haftesal if it is at least believed that we took them by force. If this should turn public opinion against us, with so many monsters owing the Haftesal scientists for curing the flower disease, then it is a small price to pay for their safety.

( and all of this is certainly sound enough in concept, but at the same time, it raises nearly as many questions as it answers - most notably why exactly they need to take said vacuums when haftesal already seems to use them to the benefit of those who oppose the fog. xingchen is far from cynical by nature, but he has learned by now the dangers inherent in mistaking the best of intentions for the best of outcomes. if they intend to steal the fog vacuums from haftesal, does it mean that they intend to use them more boldly than haftesal has? have they considered the potential for harm in pushing these devices past the limits which the devices' actual creators have held themselves to?

it's a question which jiang wanyin likely doesn't know the answer to, and one which would certainly overstep his position to challenge the others with at this stage if it were brought to his attention. so xingchen holds his tongue, though his husband can no doubt sense the churning of his thoughts by now. instead, once the explanation is finished, he offers a simple: ) I agree. ( it's closer to proper volume and little more than a crackle because of it, but he maintains that crackle for the remainder of his response: ) I'm relieved that they've planned to avoid harm to Haftesal. ( as much as he, subjectively, would prefer that public opinion not villainize jiang wanyin, a man's choices have consequences, and haftesal should not be left to shoulder them for the crime of innovation. )

[ There are many questions he could be asking about this mission, but Jiang Cheng has plenty of experience not letting himself think too closely about things which are better left unexamined.

So all he does is nod, accompanied by a tiny smile. ] I'm glad for it, too. They have done us a great kindness with the flower disease. We owe them. [ he takes Xingchen's hands into his own again and gives them a tight squeeze. ] I owe them, for saving your life.

[ If that comes at him facing the scorn of others, well, that won't be anything new either. He will only hope that Xingchen isn't affected for his ties to him. ]

But let us not think about that anymore now. Let us find something more pleasant to do. We could take a walk, maybe, if you are feeling up to it. The forest is nice around this time of the year.

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ic inbox, ryslig.

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pretend the wounds/scarring in the pics is limited to the upper forearm

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