Chapter Text
March, Year 8110 - Stellar Calendar
About a year ago, the activity of the Sanctus Medicus had started to increase. We still aren’t sure why the followers of the Plague Doctor have been moving so boldly. Perhaps they do not feel as threatened given your departure? Regardless, there has been no sign of their activities slowing. The patterns of said activity are so irregular that the Divination Commission cannot predict the future with enough certainty to form proper means of action against them. In other words: It all comes down to sheer luck, as trying to prevent them from happening is nigh impossible.
To say the Council of Preceptors' patience is running thin would be generous.
They believe the acting leaders of the Luofu to be at fault for the current situation. Some claim that, if it were not for “our incompetence”, things would not have gotten so far in the first place. But the root cause has still yet to be found. These accusations seem baseless to me, personally.
Nonetheless, demands for a new High Elder have thus arisen again, as well. Bailu is still too young to take upon the full responsibilities of the title. Her training won’t be complete until a few decades at least. We’ll have to see how to calm the public, lest an inner-political conflict between the Xianzhou natives and the Vidyadhara erupts.
If this isn’t dealt with soon, it may have a lasting effect on Lady Fu Xuan’s reputation.
I shall give updates on the situation of the Luofu after further development.
Signed,
Jing Yanqing, Lieutenant of the Cloud Knights.
Many things change with age. Alas, some things did stay the same. As annoying as it was.
To think that failing to fall asleep would remain one of such problems was hilarious as it was frustrating.
Tonight, the moon shone too brightly. The winds howled too loudly. His bed, made of the finest silks in the Luofu, felt irritating against his skin.
At one point, he couldn’t bear to sit in his bed any longer; lest he rip off his own skin.
Instead, he threw himself out of bed and moved to sit at the ebony desk in his room. Hours passed, and the smooth, dark surface was now covered in scattered notes and pictures he had kept over the years. After all, he had grown fond of reminiscing, even if he was quite young, still. Only seventy-six; so, a child to many.
Drapes covered his bedroom windows, thankfully now shutting out the moon’s glow, as instead faint candlelight illuminated the dark room. The soft, yellow glow reflected off from the countless swords hung on the walls within the room - the only thing truly of note. (After all, a room didn’t have to be lavish to fulfil its purpose, correct?)
Yanqing hadn't intended to re-read most of his letters, but a man can only do so much with a lack of sleep and nothing better to do. It was funny, in its own way, to see his twenty-one year old self write about the starting point of utter chaos for the Luofu's following years.
He gently put the letters and photographs back into a small journal, tracing its edges with a gloved hand. Its leather was torn around the edges, and the paper had begun to turn yellow. The notebook itself was a present from his master for his 18th birthday, alongside a pair of black gloves he still wore to this day. The little book was a treasure that had once belonged to the General himself. “To document your memories and look back at them fondly,” he had told him.
It was a sentimental gift, but one that lacked any use, as, just like Jing Yuan, Yanqing wasn't one to keep diaries and journals. And yet, shortly after the Tumultus Sancti Medici ended, he had begun filling the blank pages with letters and entries of his own.
It had been some time since he stopped formally addressing the recipient of the letters. Not like he needed to.
Sighing, he picked up an ink brush and grabbed a new piece of parchment.
August, Year 8164 - Stellar Calendar
The Luofu has been recovering greatly. Lady Fu Xuan may be a tad temperamental at times, but she nevertheless is adept at her work as General. At times, it feels like no chaos had ever befallen the Xianzhou. Alas, I cannot say the same for Lady Fu Xuan herself.
I wish it was simply her usual tendency of overworking herself. Like many others, the after-effects of the battle and destruction of the Tumultus Sancti Medici have taken a heavy toll on her. Symptoms of migraines, nausea, sudden attacks of fatigue, and even abrupt fainting have manifested. Her mental health has been suffering, too. Following and completing her duties as Master Diviner has become more and more of a struggle for her.
She is not in danger of being Mara-struck, yet these habits of hers have affected her work as not only the Master Diviner but also as General.
A few months ago, she began to entertain the idea of abdication.
Lady Fu Xuan came to a decision two weeks ago. As of December, the Year 1864 of the Stellar Calendar, I, Jing Yanqing, shall take upon the role of General. The ceremony will happen precisely one year and one month after Bailu's official ascension to the position of High Elder.
Signed,
Jing Yanqing, Soon-to-be Reignbow-Arbiter General of the Xianzhou Luofu.
It felt wrong.
All of this was wrong.
Writing it out was as if he were burning his own hand.
Every line he drew on the paper was a cruel mockery, a new burden placed onto his shoulders.
It was the only thing he’d been able to think about properly, swirling around in his head like bitter poison. And yet, whenever he tried to dispose of it, to free himself of this suffocating weight for but a fleeting moment of relief, he always came to the same conclusion:
How could Fu Xuan be sure he’d do a good job?
What was she hoping for? Yanqing was used to giving orders to his comrades while in battle, but he couldn’t possibly govern the entire Luofu like that. These were normal civilians, not war-trained soldiers. He’d sooner be called a tyrant than a general.
Perhaps he’d view it differently if his appointment didn’t seem so… forced. Was he chosen because Fu Xuan believed he would be a good leader? Because of his martial prowess? Or simply because he was the closest thing to a child Jing Yuan had?
Could he even be called such? He was the one who drew that blasted blade at him. He was the one who had pierced his chest, the ripping of flesh and the smell of iron so clear in his mind he would’ve sworn it was a human, not some abomination by the abundance, that he slew. He was the one who saw the life drain away from those warm, kind eyes, like seeing the sun sinking down below the covers of the night, knowing it would be the last time to see the dawn, to feel the gentle warmth. He was the one who-
The ink brush fell with a soft clutter against the table as Yanqing burrowed his hands in his hair, yanking harshly at the golden locks.
Lady Fu Xuan’s words were final. Time and time again, she’d proven that her decisions were to be trusted. He'll have to believe in her and prove that her faith had not been misplaced. It’d disgrace the Luofu, her and his Master’s name if he did. Those were his priorities.
He got up, reached for his white coat, threw it on haphazardly and opened the door. His room felt suffocating.
Some fresh air ought to do him some good.
Yanqing wandered aimlessly throughout the mansion, his mind finally at peace. The wind had calmed, now a gentle, cooling breeze. It was nice not to worry about anything for a moment, especially with how rare they were lately.
For some reason, most likely out of habit, he found himself again in the mansion’s garden.
He smiled softly, fond memories of playing with Mimi near the pond or playing chess with the General near the flower beds returned to him. Perhaps that was why he ended up returning here again and again, even with his mind elsewhere. The garden was sacred to him, a sanctuary shared with his loved ones.
Maybe he should invite his friends over, like when they were younger…
A tap on his shoulder. “Hey, what’d’ya doin' here?”
An icy blade halts as abruptly as it manifested in his hand, merely slicing but a hair of a particular grinning brunette Yanqing knew all too well. Aeons above, he was never more thankful for his trained reflexes - it'd be a hassle to clean up the blood from the grass and clothes. Instead, he just punched her.
She winced in pain, quickly jabbing him back on the shoulder. “What the fuck was that for?! Can’t even take a little scare now, wow,” Sushang complained, stepping closer to him (albeit needing to look up a little, much to Yanqing’s delight).
“That’s for scaring me, Sushang,” he hit her again, “and that’s for trespassing.”
“Well, I just wanted to know what’cha sneaking around here in the middle of the night! Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“How can I sneak around on my own property? I live here,” he gently pushed her away from him, leaving some space between them. As happy as he was to see her, he had just gotten the chance to properly breathe again, and physical touch of any kind was not what he needed right now.
“Don’t mansplain me, idiot, I know my stuff. But my sleeping point still stands."
“Hm, make-up will cover it up.”
Ah, that look Sushang gave him was worth millions. “Eh, I was once young and delusional, too. So, don't worry, you'll grow out of it eventually.”
“The only thing that changed about that is your age.” The blonde turned on his heel with a shit-eating grin and slowly walked along the stone-paved trail traversing through the garden, wordlessly inviting Sushang to accompany him. As always, she quickly caught up to him, walking side by side together.
“Well, then, if I am so old, how dare you call your elder such vile things? The youth's audacity these days! Where are your parents?”
Many things change over time. Yanqing's glad to say this little game of theirs isn't one of them. “Hm, 6 feet under, last time I checked.”
As they walked along the garden's path, their playful banter and bickering slowly turned into idle chatter; catching up on private events, petty work drama - just simple things. Yanqing realised just how little time he had these past few days. Hearing Sushang ramble about gossip and rumours felt warm and familiar. Yet, as much as he wished to spend more time with her and the rest, his work could not rest. How did he manage both work and social life at the same time as a teen?
“By the way, are you alright?" Sushang questioned, pulling Yanqing out of his thoughts, "You’ve been kinda absent-minded at work lately. Even Qinque noticed.”
Had he? How odd, normally he was the one to notice changes in behaviour. “So you decided to check on my well-being in the dead of night, Sushang?”
“Well- well, look- I- It was the only time I knew you’d actually be home! It's not my fault you’re, like, the busiest person on this ship! I already guessed you’d be in the garden, or I would’ve needed to walk through this giant maze you call home if I’d been wrong.”
Sushang’s frustrated rambles made Yanqing laugh - a genuine laugh, even if it was a little. It felt good. Perhaps he was a little stressed these past few days.
“Truly, your concern for me is remarkable. I appreciate it,” he smiled softly, looking up at the starry sky, “but I assure you, I am fine. I have simply been lacking some sleep. As of late, the moon has been quite present in the night sky, and you know I am a light sleeper. Although, this is nothing a bit of coffee cannot fix.” There was no lie, per se, simply not the whole truth. He’ll make peace with his predicament soon enough. If the last few decades taught him anything, it was that fate could neither be stopped nor slowed and that one must simply adapt to it rather than fight it. This situation was no different.
Sushang didn’t answer him. He preferred it that way. Perhaps she knew that was not all there was to it, but she didn’t push, and he appreciated her for that.
“How is Bailu taking the news?” A poor attempt to change the subject, but Aeons know he tried.
“Eh, you could tell me she hadn’t heard it yet and I’d believe you. Haven’t seen her in days, only hearing of her being here and there. Planning the ceremony of her becoming the official High Elder is draining a good chunk of energy out of her,” Sushang explained.
Yanqing chuckled lightly.
To think the little girl who used to run away from her caretakers like it was a sport would soon be one of the most important political figures on the Luofu. A position she did not once show any interest in.
The irony.
Turning away from Sushang, the blonde approached one of the flower beds. Taking one of his gloves off, he gently plucked a purple hydrangea. Immediately, it covered itself in a layer of ice.
“For when you see her. The chances of you encountering her are much higher than mine. Please send her my regards and most heartfelt blessings with this flower,” Yanqing instructed as he handed her the blossom. “Let her know I’ll be with her, even when I am not physically there.”
The swordswoman took the flower, twirling it between her fingers as she studied it. The small, cold crystals twinkled in the soft moonlight, some of the shine reflecting in her sombre brown eyes. Satisfied with herself, she looked up at Yanqing and smiled.
“Heh, funny coming from you. You have never been good at accepting support yourself.”
News of Fu Xuan’s abdication did not take long to spread across the entirety of the Xianzhou Alliance. After all, the ascension of a High Elder and a General of a Xianzhou ship in such rather quick succession was truly a rare occasion, especially with the previous General not having been appointed even a century ago.
Lady Fu Xuan had started teaching him personally to ensure he’d be prepared for the diplomatic aspects of being a General. Alas, with such limited time, the lessons barely scratched the surface of the iceberg that was the world of politics - mainly the art of negotiations and speeches. He still remembers the very first lesson she had taught him:
“Remember, Yanqing, a position of great political power means having enemies that can't be slain by your sword, only by your words. You must keep both your mind and your blade sharp. Learn to use your words wisely, as they’ll be your greatest weapon.”
Surprisingly - was it, really? - Lady Fu Xuan turned out to be correct. Even Yanqing allowed himself to show his pride in the quick progress, considering that politics never were something he had shown particular interest in nor had been excited to learn about when he was younger (Some of the few lessons he did allow himself to ditch in favour of honing his swordsmanship. But the Reignbow Arbiter themself would need to force Yanqing to confess that).
Their last lesson was two weeks ago. It was a shame, truly. He had started looking forward to their encounters. Guidance again after all those years, even if only temporarily, was something much appreciated.
Today was the last day of him holding the title of “Lieutenant of the Cloud Knights”. He's carried it for so many years now... he only ever considered one day having the title of Sword Champion, too, instead of a new one. What a weird thought.
A soft knock from the door pulled him out of his thoughts. He quickly checked the time, before promptly opening the door to a rather displeased Fu Xuan. “Punctuality is more a necessity than a talent, Yanqing, and we both are aware that you are in the know of this,” Fu Xuan lectured, “I had expected you ten minutes ago, but today is a very hectic and eventful day and, as such, I will let it slide this once.” As she entered, Yanqing noticed her holding a small box.
Oddly enough, the general also carried a bouquet of flowers. Even with their shared history, gifting between them had never exceeded anything but formal compliments for work-related breakthroughs. Birthday congratulations were the most personal as the gifts got. So, to see flowers was surprising, to say the least.
She placed the items on a vanity near the door, signalling Yanqing to sit down instead. He did so without question, regardless, but his confusion grew when he felt the delicate brushes of a comb against his hair.
The entirety of the situation was borderline absurd to him. The closest thing he had as a comparison to this was when Lady Fu Xuan had once calmed down his endless wails with a gentle, soothing voice he hadn’t heard from her since. But that was many, many years ago when he was still but a babe. Normally, they had a silent agreement of formality between them. Why break it now, this suddenly?
Yanqing looked at his hands, unsure what to make of this unusual behaviour, only to catch himself fiddling with them again. The tears of the black cloth’s year-long use were evident in the faded edges and the loose golden seams on the fingers. His habit of fidgeting fingers showed itself in the thinned-out pads of the fingertips.
“As much as it pains me to disappoint you,” Fu Xuan cleared her throat, “these gifts are not mine. The High Elder requested me to deliver them to you as I crossed paths with her on my way here.”
Blinking, he looked up at the small box, finding a note attached.
Yanqing,
Since you’ve gifted me something as your token of support for my new position, why should I not do the same? We will be official colleagues in a few hours!
Your old gloves are screaming to be put to rest. I understand their value to you, but, c’mon, better keep them intact for safekeeping, idiot.
P.S.: The flowers are from Sushang and me. Yes, you will need a vase. Yes, this is a sign to decorate that desert of a room. Lan knows that place needs some life in it.
- Bailu
Yanqing opened the box, finding a beautiful pair of black gloves within, lined with intricate details of swirling clouds running along the sides of it and edges with golden accents.
Their soft shimmer proved their high quality - silk, most likely.
He gently put them back in the casing.
Fu Xuan didn’t comment on it. Yanqing was grateful for it.
He was sure she was saying something, but whatever it was, he couldn’t hear a single word; It was as if he'd been thrown into a raging ocean, its torrents and crashing waves pulling him under and drowning out her words. His ears were filled with the roaring waters and the howling tycoon. The ocean’s pressure imploded his ears and crushed his skull, but whenever he tried to break through the surface, he was faced with the shattering screams of the storm, screaming over and over again, pushing him down with no chance of escape.
He groaned silently, feeling a migraine coming. Of course, right before the ceremony began, things went south. Lady Luck and he had never been close confidantes and it seemed like she made a vigorous point of it staying that way.
“-qing. Yanqing!” A light slap to the head snapped him out of his thoughts.
“Ow! Why would you-” He turned, forgetting the brush was still in his hair, resulting in his hair getting yanked, too. Fu Xuan pinched the bridge of her nose, watching the future General of the Luofu hold his head like a child who’d misbehaved.
“I’d hit you again, but in the state you’re in, it’d be more akin to kicking a dead horse,” Fu Xuan said, obviously annoyed, as she poured a glass of water from the table beside him. “Now drink before I change my mind.”
Not wanting to further test the general, he drank the water quietly.
“I take it you haven’t heard a word I said?”
He gripped the glass tighter. Either he heard the glass cracking or he managed to freeze the water even with his gloves on. The sigh from behind him was unmistakable, though. “I’ll have to redo your hair, anyway, so at least it isn’t wasting my time completely.” Ok, damn.
“Now, as I’ve said, these gifts aren’t mine. Don’t complain now - I see that pout, Yanqing - my gift to you is advice as your predecessor. So listen up, for I refuse to repeat myself twice,” she put good emphasis on the ‘twice’.
“It would be an understatement to say that the path you’re about to embark on is unlike anything you’ve experienced, but I believe you are already aware of this. I am not here to say that it will be an easy journey or a smooth transition. Even I was shocked to see how drastically my duties had changed once I became general. And before you ask; no, I do not know how I managed to hold two positions at once, nor how anyone allowed me to. Perhaps, you should look into and refine the laws regulating such endeavours after you become general.”
She gathered the top portion of his hair and put it into a loose bun, braiding the trail falling out. “I wish I could give you more grounding advice, but you know most of what I can offer you. As such, I shall send you off with two final lessons:
One: When you walk up those steps and accept the title of General, you'll be taking upon a burden that can be seen by no one. It is for this reason that I trained you in the art of political speech, as it can be your only weapon against the common folk. Show the people that you are someone worthy of putting their lives into your hands, and your equals that you are someone to be respected. Your tongue will be your finest weapon when it comes to forging alliances with other planets and preserving the ones we already have.”
She tied the braid. “Secondly, keep yourself safe. Holding a title of leadership for a nation has no use if the person holding it is dead.”
Yanqing looked up, turning slightly to see a thin, blue band holding the bun together. It matched the blue tips of his hair. Perhaps he should take Guinaifen up on that hair dye offer.
Nostalgia danced in Fu Xuan’s eyes as she smiled regretfully at him. “You resemble him.”
“Thank you, but I’d prefer to be seen as myself." With a sigh, he stood up.
"I thank you for assisting me, Lady Fu Xuan. Let us chat some more after the ceremony has commenced, yes?”
He left without waiting for an answer.
The heels of his boots clicked against wood, harder and faster than necessary, but Yanqing couldn’t bring himself to care; he’d rather hear a lecture about his conduct than wherever the conversation was drifting towards. Being compared to his mentor stung, unbelievably so, even after all these years.
He wasn't him. He could never be him.
Clenching his fists, he walked even faster, agitation growing with every step he took.
Back then, Yanqing had always been praised for his quick recoveries, no matter how bad the injury. So, how was he failing so miserably now? This was a decades-old wound, and not even a physical one at that.
Every time he thought it healed, remaining as nothing but a scar of the past, a knife would drive its way back into his flesh, leaving him to patch it back together once more. He never had these kinds of issues in the past… What had changed?
With a shake of his head, Yanqing pushed those unneeded thoughts aside, stopping before a pair of doors. Straightening his back, he reached for the door handles and took some deep breaths to keep his hands from shaking.
Festive music and cheers roared outside. Determined, he opened the doors.
He’ll make sure the people of the Luofu will continue to live with such joy and laughter. The oh-so-recent past of war and destruction will not repeat itself under his command. For it is what they deserved, and what those who came before him fought for. No matter the cost.