ic inbox, ryslig.

[daozhangs]

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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[daozhangs]

( he did what.

there are so many wholly rational responses to that - like 'would that not have occurred after my death? how, then, would i know of it?' - but xingchen doesn't entirely have it in him to prove that he murdered his closest companion, so he simply says. )

It was me.

Xue Yang has killed far, far too many in his life, but he did not kill Zichen.

[legbreakings]

Then he made you.

[ No hesitation there. No, he'd had his moment of doubt but he knows Xiao Xingchen. He may not know himself but he knows others still except for Jin Guangyao and maybe the man he had once considered a brother.. But in this, he is certain. ]

You wouldn't have done it out of your own free will.

[daozhangs]

You asked me what could possibly compare.

( jiang wanyin would not have killed of his own free will, either. )

[legbreakings]

[ Long silence. ]

I don't know what to say.

[daozhangs]

Say that you'll trust in your own good nature as strongly as you trust in mine.

You don't get to absolve me and not yourself. I won't allow it.

[legbreakings]

I can't. I have more trust in your nature than in mine.

[daozhangs]

I understand.

( truly, he does. it doesn't change anything - he still won't allow it, this arbitrary judgment of who is or isn't at fault for what they've done - but jiang wanyin is doing all that he can, given the circumstances. )

I could perform their rites, if you'd like. ( whether or not such a thing means anything here. ) Or we could, together.

[legbreakings]

I would like that. I would be grateful. I don't know if it would make a difference to them but I feel like I owe it to them to at least try.

[daozhangs]

I'll gather the supplies. We should be able to proceed sometime tomorrow, if you're willing to linger in Bavan for quite so long.

[legbreakings]

Thank you. You are very kind.

[daozhangs]

There's no need for that. It's the least that I could do.

( and kindness has very little to do with it. too many of the same desperate and miserable threads weave between the harms they've wrought, even if jiang wanyin's harms thus far are on a much smaller scale. xingchen will likely never admit it, but somewhere throughout the course of this conversation he has become inexplicably tangled up in those threads.

he humors precisely no delusions about any sort of partnership, or even true teamwork. he does, however, know that he himself won't be finding absolution unless jiang wanyin has found it first.

and the only first step left toward that is to honor the dead to the best of their mutual ability.

the next message comes after a short pause: )

Tell me, what was Yunmeng like? In all of my travels, it's one of the few places I missed.

[legbreakings]

[ A distraction. He knows it for what it is, nobody who has led juniors on their first night hunts didn't have to learn how to talk them down if they panicked after their first encounter with the murderously supernatural. He just didn’t think he would be the target of it again at his age and all he had seen. ]

It is home. It is a landscape dominated by rivers and lakes. When they are in bloom, the lotus flowers are like a colorful carpet on the lakes. The summers are my favorite time, though they are hot and humid and when you get caught in the summer rains, you will be soaked to the bone. I miss the food and the merchants harking their wares right by our docks. I miss the night market in town. I miss waking up to the sounds of Lotus Pier coming alive around me. The treehouse is too quiet.

[daozhangs]

Thank you, I can nearly picture it now.

What sorts of food? There was a merchant at our market one summer who grew up in Yunmeng. I wasn't able to afford his fare, but I was told ( by xue yang, a nagging voice reminds him ) that Yunmeng food was overly generous in spices and I wouldn't have enjoyed it anyway.

I was always a bit disappointed, not to have had the chance to try for myself.

( even if all of this is distraction at best, he has no plans to leave the conversation one-sided. jiang wanyin will have to forgive the banality of most all of his anecdotes, he has lived a somewhat stationary life these last few years. )

[legbreakings]

It is spicy, yes, but even if you are used to bland foods you could learn to appreciate it. Spicy food isn't just hot, it is very flavorful, too. Besides, my mother's sect eats spicier food.

When I was a child, my older sister's soup was my favorite. It was our comfort food, and it's not even a spicy dish. But you'd probably be thinking of everything lotus if you're speaking of typical Yunmeng Jiang food. Soup, tea, you can fry the roots too or eat the fresh seeds as a snack. The leaves make good wrappings when you're using the bamboo steamer. Contrary to popular belief, it's not all we eat. Just give me a roast fish and I'll be happy as long as it's freshly caught, though I wouldn't turn down fish noodles or fish cake either.

[ Is he stalling? Yes. Absolutely. But it's better than to think about what happened tonight, even if he is sure he wouldn't be able to stomach any of these dishes he's talking about right now. ]

[daozhangs]

All of these things sound wonderfully delicious. Have you found any lotus here?

[legbreakings]

Not yet, but I mentioned it to Majima Goro and he told me he would look for it, too. He knows his way around Bavan better than I do.

[daozhangs]

Ah, you know Majima Goro as well. He does seem like a a man who would know where such things can be found.

( in fact, he's the precise man xingchen himself planned to contact regarding funerary supplies. quite a small world they've found themselves in, however large it may sometimes seem.

but that seems to be winding down that topic, and while xingchen is more than capable of stalling further (and fully intends to, at that), he can't help but ask: )

Is it warm enough, where you are?

( because though the sun will surely rise and warm the day soon enough, the pre-dawn air creeping through the fractionally-open window to xingchen's left is quite a bit chillier than he personally prefers to be out in. )

[legbreakings]

No. But to what I'm becoming, the temperature shouldn't matter anymore, should it?

[ Except it does. He is cold. And wet. And tired and miserable and aching from his raging and the tension that had gripped his body all night. ]

[daozhangs]

Perhaps, but it matters now. I don't suppose you'd let me deliver you blankets, but know that I'm folding a pair of them to leave on the couch in case you do find your way here.

( he's also going to get up and put on tea. even if jiang cheng doesn't drink it, holding a mug (delightful things, these mugs, even if they feel egregiously large compared to traditional teacups) of hot liquid should do wonders for cold hands. )

[legbreakings]

Are you still insisting to keep your door unlocked? That's going to get you killed one of these days. Bavan is a dangerous city.

[ So maybe he shouldn't force him to keep his door unlocked by refusing the hospitality? ]

[daozhangs]

One can only presume you'll lock it on your way in.

[legbreakings]

[ Jiang Cheng isn't even going to deign to respond to such presumption.

No, he keeps licking his wounds until he is well ready to leave and then he makes his way to Xiao Xingchen's apartment, quietly letting himself inside in the morning hours.

He is careful to make as little noise as possible both in case Xiao Xingchen is asleep and simply because he doesn’t want to deal with admitting his defeat. Not that he would expect him to be the gloating sort but pride is what it is.

Jiang Cheng makes for a bedraggled sight, having no longer been in any state of mind to ensure he wouldn’t get wet and tired and teary-eyed to boot. There is even a defeated slump to his shoulders which he so rarely permits himself but it might be alright to show it to a friend. ]

[daozhangs]

( a minute passes, then another. no response. xingchen isn't entirely sure what it is that has happened. perhaps he overstepped. conversely, perhaps he has already given up and begun the however-long trek to where xingchen is staying.

he considers sending a follow-up, on the off chance that something has occurred and jiang wanyin is in worse shape than he realizes, but if the man contacted him out of the blue just after it happened, xingchen doesn't doubt that he'd do so again (much less out of the blue, after all this) if he needed to.

and besides: he has preparations to make.

the former-daozhang has made his careful, steady way all across this vast and winding city, and it has been an experience for certain. it isn't the first time he has navigated the streets, nor even that he has done so with a destination in mind, but now he's paying attention to time as well. xingchen left a note on the counter-top for jiang wanyin to make himself at home and help himself to the tea and blankets, and that xingchen should be back very briefly. fortunately, he manages to make it back before such a note is even necessary, so it's discarded for now on his way to check and make certain the tea is still warm.

when jiang wanyin arrives not terribly long later, he'll find xingchen sitting at the table meant for eating meals. a tidy assortment of rice papers sit before him, one pile blank and unaltered and two more neat piles cut into form - mostly talisman-sized rectangles, but four (he isn't sure how many lives were lost, so his estimate may be too high or too short) have been carefully cut into the approximation of a lotus flower.

it's the lotus pile that he has directly before him now, along with black paint, carefully inking script along the paper with a slim paintbrush. joss papers can't simply be blank, after all. then they're simply papers.

he hears jiang wanyin arrive, though he makes no indication of it aside from the faintest welcoming curve of his lips as he finishes inking the current line. then, ) There's tea on the stove. I've left you a mug. ( his own mug sits nearby, largely untouched in his focus. )

[legbreakings]

[ Jiang Cheng mutely takes in the sight of Xiao Xingchen sitting at the table, and as he steps closer, he realizes exactly what exactly he is working on. He swallows hard, his reddened eyes wide and startled. It is just... it is so thoughtful of him and he doesn't even know where to begin.

So all he does is choke out a quiet ] thank you [ before he makes his way to the stov to pour himself a cup of hot tea. His hands tremble as he pours and keep trembling as he clutches the cup with both hands. It's too hot but the pain is a counterpoint to the numbness he feels so he welcomes it - a sign that he still has some human weaknesses and sensations, he isn't all machine yet to whom hot or cold makes no difference.

Quietly, he sits down across from Xiao Xingchen and watches him, still cradling the cup of tea. ]

Why? [ he finally asks quietly. Why would he go to such lengths to help, why would he care at all. ]

[daozhangs]

( for his part, xingchen lets his guest work through the arrival process at his own speed and with as much privacy as he can offer (in the form of keeping his attention on his work).

the 'thank you' gets a proper (if small) smile, and xingchen nods with a quiet hum of acknowledgment. then jiang wanyin heads off to fetch some tea, bringing it back to sit opposite xingchen instead of moving to occupy the couch where his blankets await.

'why?' his answer this time takes a moment, all of his attention on finishing the line of careful script on this last paper lotus - but then he sets it aside to dry, and as he reaches for the talisman-shaped slips he tilts his head slightly. ) I told you that I'd gather supplies. ( he gets the feeling that this isn't quite the question being asked, but he isn't entirely positive what the real question is and jiang wanyin will need to be slightly more specific if he'd like a better answer. )