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Chongyun stares at the long line of young couples winding its way to the base of Wuwang Hill, then lets out a mighty sigh.
“Are you sure that this is what you want to do for our first date?” he asks, nibbling at his popsicle petulantly. He’s never found the appeal to this “Test of Courage”, after all. Both Xingqiu and the Traveler have tried explaining the purpose of the event to him before, but he still remains baffled by it. As an exorcist, fabricating paranormal encounters feels like an affront to his line of work, and—in any other situation—making people pay for a fake product would be considered a scam.
His exasperation elicits a bout of bright laughter from his boyfriend, and Chongyun finds it hard to stay mad when he sees the way the other man’s eyes sparkle with mirth.
“Yes, I’m sure, dear Yunyun. You owe me, after all.” Xingqiu suddenly falls backwards into Chongyun’s arms, one hand draped against his forehead as he sighs dramatically, “Imagine my heartbreak when I learned that you had invited the Traveler to the Test of Courage instead of me, your best friend… and the one who brought it up in the first place!”
Chongyun rolls his eyes with a snort.
“Okay, one: you did not ‘invite’ me, you shoved a flier in my face and told me that it was a lead on some spiritual activity at Wuwang Hill.” He shuffles them both forward with the rest of the line. “Two: you were busy with guild matters that day, and the Traveler happened to be free. And, three: that was nearly three years ago, Xingqiu. Are you ever going to let me live that down?”
“Nope, never~” the young master sings, playfully ruffling Chongyun’s hair before pecking a kiss on his rapidly blushing cheek.
He’s found himself blushing more often than ever, these days. In the past, Xingqiu and his pranks were the typical culprits behind his Yang energy flaring up. Since they’ve started dating, however, the bookworm hasn’t needed any chilis or teasing remarks to get Chongyun feeling heated. Seeing Xingqiu smile his way, taking Xingqiu’s cold hands into his own, hugging Xingqiu close… nowadays, such simple things are all it takes for the exorcist’s face to erupt in flames and to leave him reaching for a popsicle. But nowadays, he finds that he doesn’t really mind.
Still…
“I just don’t get why people pay to experience something that isn’t real,” Chongyun huffs. Sighing, his boyfriend shakes his head at him solemnly.
“I hate to tell you this, dear Yunyun, but… unlike you, most people don’t come here for the ghosts.” Gesticulating grandly, Xingqiu continues, “People come here for a thrill from being scared! They come here to let themselves be vulnerable with someone they trust and strengthen the bond between them! The monsters may be fake, but the emotions?” Turning in Chongyun’s arms, he pats the exorcist’s chest, right above his heart. “Those are real.”
“Hmm,” Chongyun supposes that kind of makes sense. Except… “How can you be scared by something you know is fake?”
Now it’s Xingqiu’s turn to feel exasperated, throwing his arms into the air with a groan. “Come on, Yunyun, have you no imagination?!!”
“Nope. No thoughts, head empty.”
Their light-hearted banter continues for the next fifteen odd minutes it takes to crawl up the line. The moment they are at the front, however, Chongyun cuts himself short, recognizing the event organizer ushering people in.
“Alright, next! Who’s ready to get scared?” asks the bespectacled man in an appropriately spooky tone. His smile drops the moment he sees who is next in line. “Oh, it’s you.”
It seems that Uncle Jia recognizes Chongyun as well.
“Um, hi…” he mumbles with a sheepish wave, not quite meeting the elder gentleman’s gaze. His timidness doesn’t earn him any sympathy, only an eyebrow skeptically arching in his direction.
“Are you here to try and exorcize my employees again, Master Tianheng?” Uncle Jia hisses under his breath, dropping the theatrics as his eyes impatiently glance at the other people in line. Chongyun shamefully ducks his head even further as he is bluntly reminded of how disastrously his last visit went. His boyfriend stifles a giggle into his fist, but ultimately decides to take mercy on him. Linking arms with Chongyun, he hands over their required coin with a wink.
“Rest assured, my liege, I will be keeping an eye on my dear exorcist to make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble.”
“I deeply apologize for disturbing the participants and staff the last time I was here,” Chongyun rushes to add. He bows deeply—mostly out of respect, but also to hide the crimson heat rising to his cheeks. “I promise that it won’t happen again.”
There is a long, pregnant silence—only broken by whispers from the probably very confused couples waiting in line behind them—until Uncle Jia finally lets out an amused, if a bit disbelieving, huff. And then the theatrics return in full force.
“Very well then! Let’s see if you two have got the guts to make it through our Test of Courage! But first, allow me to explain how it works.” He gestures to the ruins behind him. “The test is divided into three sections, each one more harrowing than the last. Hidden deep in the heart of each house, you will find a pair of amulets capable of warding off evil. Collect all three pairs of amulets, and not only will you prove your mettle and your bond as friends—”
“Boy~friends!” Xingqiu interjects, and Uncle Jia quickly amends his statement.
“—as boyfriends, you will also win a secret prize! Now, if things ever get too scary, you are free to tap out whenever you wish… but be warned! Tapping out forfeits your progress and you may not return after, so think carefully before you choose to leave.”
The “test” ending in a reward is enough to actually pique Chongyun’s curiosity, and it has Xingqiu bouncing with excitement at his side. Nothing delights the young master more than a challenge, after all.
“With my own personal ward against evil by my side, I’m sure this challenge will be a breeze,” he jests, nudging Chongyun with his elbow.
Uncle Jia continues his explanation with other basic rules—no running through the halls, no touching the props or actors unless instructed to do so, no weapons inside the haunts, the like—and has them sign liability papers—so official!—before finally nodding in satisfaction. With a grandiose flourish, he ushers them towards the first house that is cast in the shadows of Wuwang Hill’s perpetual night. “Good luck, and may you return safely!”
And so, hand in hand, the exorcist and the bookworm begin their test of courage.
Much to Chongyun’s surprise, he finds the test to be… kind of fun, actually.
It starts tamely enough in the first house, which mostly capitalizes on Wuwang’s naturally ominous atmosphere to put couples on their toes. Wuwang has never daunted the daring duo before, though. Chongyun and Xingqiu practically prance through the halls together, giggling merrily as though they were simply shopping around the Harbor rather than exploring a haunted house.
It doesn’t escape Chongyun’s notice that there has clearly been a bump up in budget from three years ago. A couple of Fontainian animatronics lurk in the shadows alongside the scare actors to jump out at unsuspecting participants, dressed up as monsters and specters and programmed with frighteningly lifelike sounds and gesticulations. Their realism is only thrown off by the quiet sounds of mechanical joints clicking and servo motors whirring, but that is mostly drowned out by the surrounding ruckus anyways. Despite his general disdain for the event, even Chongyun can admit that the whole spectacle is impressive. Not exactly scary, by any means, but still, impressive!
They retrieve their first amulets—a simple braid of red thread knotted around three bronze coins—and exit the house in record time, both of them grinning from ear to ear.
“Well done, you guys!” praises the attendant at the end of the house as they proudly show her proof of their success. The old woman scribbles something on her clipboard of papers, then escorts them the short distance to House #2. Letting the ancient door open with a creeeeaak, she cackles behind them, “Now, get ready to see some real horror!”
The reasoning behind her foreboding words are made immediately obvious the moment the door shuts behind them. In this section, temporary walls have been erected to turn the ruins into a downright claustrophobic maze, which also blocks the outside lights that had been present in the previous house. The path is illuminated only by flickering lanterns that make shadows dance across the walls, and their travels slow to a crawl as they try to navigate the winding corridors in such dim lighting. Cobwebs and rags hang from the rafters, figures shift in the gloom, and the screams of other couples echo through the halls.
They really weren’t kidding when they said that they upped the intensity between sections!
Personally, Chongyun finds the most frightening change to be the muggy warmth in the air from their tight quarters (and what it might do to his constitution). He is caught off guard by how much Xingqiu is affected by the mood shift, however. The young master squeaks in surprise every time he trips on the uneven ground or feels something tangle in his hair, and—after letting out an ungodly shriek from their first jumpscare—he insists on having his “personal ward against evil” go first down the halls.
It’s kinda cute, actually; Chongyun is starting to see why Xingqiu enjoys getting a rise out of him all the time. Oh, who knew his boyfriend was so adorably skittish? He jokingly suggests that Xingqiu should just let himself be carried through the rest of the house, with how often the bookworm ends up clinging to his arm. It earns him a light swat on the arm for his insolence, but it’s worth it to hear Xingqiu laugh and to feel the tense grip on his bicep relax, even if only a little. He can’t help himself from letting out an amused chuckle of his own when the other man trips into his arms for the nth time that night, though. Ooo, that troublemaker has rubbed off on him more than he thought, hasn’t he? Ah well, he has no one to blame but himself for Chongyun’s antics, then.
Eventually, they manage to find the end of the maze. Unlike the first house, where their goal was simply left on a table for them to take, this pair of amulets is nowhere to be seen. Instead, a figure, gaunt and gangly like a skeleton and coated in a powdery-white body paint to highlight its uncanny thinness, stands before the exit. It makes no sound, aside from the clanking of the chains around its neck and limbs and the rustle of paper seals across its body, and it stares at Chongyun and Xingqiu with a wide, unblinking gaze, waiting for them to approach. Honestly, the creature’s silence is more unnerving than any of the cackling sorceresses or howling ghouls they’ve encountered so far.
Once the couple tentatively comes just out of arm’s reach, the thing—the exorcist thinks they are supposed to be a jiāngshī, maybe?—stiffly raises both arms from its sides… and a pair of simple jade pendants drop from their palms, hanging between pinched fingers in silent offering.
“You go,” Xingqiu volun-tells him, and Chongyun, being the wonderful boyfriend that he is, accepts his fate with grace. Oh, what wouldn’t he do for the man he is so hopelessly smitten with?
Taking a couple of steadying breaths to steel his nerves, he strides up to the skeletal figure and goes to grab the amulets with a polite, if a bit short, “Excuse me.”
The first pendant leaves their hand easily, but they pull the second one out of his reach with their impossibly long arm, chains rattling noisily with the motion as they let out a dry groan of disapproval. Then, they turn to pointedly stare at Xingqiu and slowly lower the amulet in his direction, making it clear that each of them must grab their own amulet if they want to continue. The young master makes his own noises of disapproval at the idea.
“Mm-mmm, no thank you, I’m good, actually.”
“Oh, so you want to forfeit?” Chongyun asks sarcastically; he’s found that making something a (perceived) challenge does wonders in motivating the young master to do things that he otherwise wouldn’t want to. The jiāngshī behind him tilts their head to one side, wordlessly echoing the question.
“Wha—no, of course not!” Xingqiu splutters defensively. “I just happen to have a strong survival instinct! Unlike a certain someone I know…”
When he makes no indication of moving, however, the jiāngshī begins to retract their arm—taking the amulet with it. The young master’s eyes widen, and Chongyun hears him mutter a colorful stream of curses from under his breath before he loudly decides, “Let’s get this over with…”
A jeering grin crosses the jiāngshī’s gaunt face, their makeup distorting around the expression to exaggerate it into something truly inhuman. It almost scares Xingqiu off again, but Chongyun wraps an arm around his boyfriend’s waist and squeezes encouragingly, earning himself an appreciative, if still a bit uncertain, smile. Straightening himself up, he approaches the shackled zombie with more confidence.
“If you wouldn’t mind, my liege?” The jade amulet drops into Xingqiu’s upturned palm upon request, and he lets out a shaky sigh of relief. “Thank y—”
Before he can finish giving his gratitudes, the jiāngshī suddenly lurches towards him with a raspy croak, chains rattling noisily.
Chongyun grimaces, startled by the commotion, and Xingqiu—where has Xingqiu gone? One moment he is by his side, and the next he’s disappeared? The exorcist spins full circle in search of his boyfriend, but finds neither hide nor hair of the young master, only hearing his scream trailing off from the direction of the exit. He’s never seen Xingqiu move that fast before, not even for a new shipment to his favorite book house. Glancing back at the befuddled scare actor, he offers them an equally dumbfounded shrug before carefully making his way to the outside world… where he is met with a rather unusual greeting from the event attendant waiting outside.
“Hey! Um, you wouldn’t happen to be that guy’s partner, would you?”
Cat-like eyes follow the attendant’s finger to see his bookworm huddled in the tall grass nearby, curled up in a ball as he rests his head on his knees.
“Yeah, he’s mine,” the exorcist chuffs fondly. Looks like they might need a couple minutes to regroup before they continue. Showing the attendant his second amulet, he requests a moment of privacy with his partner.
“Of course.”
Trudging over to the other man, he gracefully drops into a crouch beside him, hugging his knees to his chest to match the other’s posture. He opens his mouth to tease Xingqiu for being such a dramatic scaredy-cat, only to stop short when he hears quiet sniffling. Leaning over to get a closer look, his eyes widen in shock. Is Xingqiu… crying? No, Chongyun can tell that it’s something more than mere tears: the shortness of breath; the tremble in his shoulders; the unsteady sway of his body; the glassy stare that doesn’t seem to see the presence beside him… oh. Chongyun knows what’s happening.
A panic attack. Xingqiu is having a panic attack.
At least, he thinks that’s what’s happening. The constant threat of losing control over his pure Yang spirit has made panic attacks an unfortunately frequent occurrence throughout Chongyun’s life. Considering that, one would think he would be able to recognize one if he saw it.
The problem is that it has always been the bookworm who helps Chongyun through his episodes, never the other way around. He has never seen his boyfriend in such a state of despair, and it nearly sends him into his own panicked spiral, that familiar tightness forming a knot in his chest. After all, if this kind of thing can happen to Xingqiu—his dashing, confident bookworm; his emotional anchor when the world makes no sense; his dearest heart—then what can Chongyun possibly do to help? His congenital positivity isn’t doing him any favors, either. He can feel the warmth in his gut rising, expanding, threatening to engulf his mind in a raging wildfire—
He gasps as a flurry of cold air from his Vision douses the flame before it can spread. It also yanks him back to the physical world before he gets lost inside his head.
‘Calm down, Xingqiu needs you right now,’ he tells himself fiercely, repeating it like a mantra. ‘He’s been there for you all these years, now it’s time to be there for him.’
Now, where to start? Chongyun racks his brain for the things Xingqiu usually says to him during these situations, and decides to start by calling his name.
“Xingqiu?” No answer. That’s all right, he’ll just try again. “Xingqiu, can you hear me?”
This time, the young master’s breath hitches for a moment in acknowledgment, and Chongyun’s panic diminishes a little. Okay, he can do this.
“Listen to my voice, Qiuqiu.” Chongyun doesn’t usually use nicknames and it feels foreign on his tongue, but calling Xingqiu by the diminutive always puts a smile on his face, so he hopes it might help anchor the young master. “I know you must be very scared right now, but you’re safe, I promise. I’m here for you, Qiu.”
Those watery amber eyes slowly blink once, twice, three times, before finally beginning to focus on the person before them. The prolonged eye contact makes Chongyun’s own eyes itch with discomfort, but it's surpassed by his relief at piercing through the fear clouding the other’s gaze.
Xingqiu’s breaths are still coming too short and too fast, though, so he focuses on that next. With exaggerated motions, he starts going through one of his meditative breathing exercises, counting out the seconds on his fingers for Xingqiu to follow. Inhale for four seconds, hold it for seven, exhale for eight, then repeat. After going through the first few cycles by himself, the other man subconsciously begins to follow his lead. His gasps slow down into more deep, even breaths, until eventually, they are breathing fully in sync.
“Are you back with me, Qiuqiu?” There’s a stretch of silence, and then Xingqiu gives him a tiny nod. Okay, good. Still nonverbal, but they’re making progress. “Is there anything I can do for you right now?”
Without hesitation, the smaller man unfolds his arms to reach for Chongyun needily.
“You want… to hug?” His boyfriend grunts in affirmation. “Alright, come here.”
Shifting so that he’s sitting across from Xingqiu, his movements slow and obvious so as not to further frighten the sensitive man, Chongyun gently hoists him into his lap. Immediately, both Xingqiu’s arms and legs wrap around him and squeeze tightly, as if he’s trying to mold them into a singular being. By now, he’s wept himself dry, finally crashing down from the adrenaline rush. He just quietly clings to Chongyun as the exorcist rocks them both to and fro and places chaste kisses on the crown of his head. Xingqiu burrows into his boyfriend’s warm embrace, and Chongyun holds him all the tighter.
They remain in that position, undisturbed, for who knows how long—maybe only a couple of minutes, maybe several hours, Chongyun isn’t exactly keeping track. At some point, the event attendant comes by to check up on them, shyly offering a water canteen. It is gratefully accepted and Chongyun coaxes his boyfriend to keep on taking little sips until the canteen is empty. And then it’s back to comfortable silence between just the two of them.
Eventually, Xingqiu lifts his head from where he’s smashed it into the exorcist’s broad chest. Blue eyes light up with joy and the taller man greets him softly.
“Welcome back, Qiuqiu.”
“‘m so tired…” mumbles Xingqiu, his words slurring together due to his exhaustion. Under different circumstances, Chongyun might coo over how adorably clingy his sleepy boyfriend is being. Right now, however, he is barely holding back his own tears at hearing his boyfriend’s voice again, relief crashing over him with the strength of a tsunami upon the shore. Coming out of a panic attack has always left him feeling fatigued, but he’s never considered the toll it has on the people watching over him. All he can do is keep on holding Xingqiu close, although the other man has more to say.
“What… happened to me?”
“Pretty sure you had a panic attack after that last scare. It’s okay, though, you’re safe now.”
“Oh.” Xingqiu silently stews with that revelation for a bit. “Um, thanks, Yunyun… for taking care of me.”
“Of course. I’ll always be there for you, Qiu. Don’t ever doubt that, okay?”
The young master nods, but instead of being comforted by the words, the crease between his brows only seems to deepen.
“It all just happened so fast. I don’t even know when I started running, much less when I started crying,” he mumbles against Chongyun’s shoulder miserably. “…‘m sorry for being a coward and leaving you behind.”
Then, rather timidly, he asks, “Is… is that what it’s like when you lose control of your Yang energy?”
Chongyun’s eyes widen; he wasn’t expecting Xingqiu to ask him any questions, and certainly not a question like that. He pulls out a popsicle and starts licking it pensively.
“Well, I don’t know what you experienced, exactly. Um, based on my panic attacks, though, I guess they are pretty similar. They leave me feeling…” Hmm, it’s hard to put it into words. “Adrift? But at the same time, paralyzed, almost? It’s like I’ve lost all control of my body, but I’m still conscious and can feel the things going on inside it. The main difference between them, I guess, is the driving force behind them: for panic attacks, it’s fear; for Yang overloads, it’s mania.” From around a bite of popsicle, he says with a shrug, “I can tell you this, though: they both suck.”
Xingqiu looks stricken to hear this. “Chongyun, I—”
He bites his lip to cut himself off, choosing to mull over this new information mentally, instead. It’s abnormal for the bookworm to be so reserved about his thoughts—whatever’s on his mind usually continues right out his mouth—but Chongyun can tell that he is choosing his next words carefully. So, he lets the contemplative silence go uninterrupted, quietly finishing his popsicle before flicking the stick off into the grass. When his boyfriend chooses to speak again, it is with a contrite little frown.
“I’m sorry for always triggering your Yang episodes, Yunyun. I never realized they were so serious—not that my ignorance excuses any of my actions. You’ve told me to stop plenty of times before, but I ignored it. That was selfish of me.”
Blue eyes blink once. Twice. Then, “No, s’not very gallant of you at all, is it?”
“I’m being serious, damn it!” protests the young master as he weakly beats on the other man’s chest, only for Chongyun to shush him tenderly.
“I know you’re being serious, sweetheart,” —Xingqiu’s breath hitches at the term of endearment— “and I appreciate the apology I really do. But, well… it’s just that…” Now it’s Chongyun’s turn to have his voice to snag with emotion. “Having you by my side makes it a lot easier to get through those scary moments. I know that if I fall apart, you’ll be there to keep me safe and help put me back together—even if, half the time, you are the instigator. I just hope you know that I would do the same for you, too, Qiuqiu. Always.”
The feeling of shoulder shaking against him breaks Chongyun out of his musings, and he pulls back with alarm to find the bookworm weeping once more.
“Oh, Qiu, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you cry! D-did I say something wrong?”
“No, you oblivious dummy—”
“Oi—!”
“—you’re just such a good boyfriend. The best boyfriend. My best boy… the best… I love you so much, Yunyun,” blubbers the poor thing. He is too exhausted for a full blown meltdown, so he just sits there as a sniveling mess. Chongyun easily pulls him back against his chest, peppering his cheeks and temples with kisses.
“I love you too, Qiu,” he reassures. “I love you very much, okay?”
“I knooowww…”
The exorcist returns to rocking them gently, patting his boyfriend’s back a few more times until he’s cried himself out again. It also gives Chongyun a chance to rein his own emotions back from the brink of tears. If he starts crying, he’s pretty sure they’ll be stuck there until the next morning.
After his sniffles have finally died down, Xingqiu requests, “I think that I would like to go, now.”
“Yeah, I’ve had my Wuwang fill for tonight,” Chongyun agrees. It is probably close to midnight now, if he had to guess; thank the Archons that Qingce Village is close by. He staggers to his feet—oomf, his knees did not like being sat on for that long—and shakes his legs out. The bookworm has a bit of a harder time standing, what with his exhaustion, so Chongyun scoops him into a princess carry before he even has to ask.
“Come along, young master, let’s get you home.” Grinning down at Xingqiu playfully, he can’t resist cracking one final quip, “The Test of Courage may have bested us this time, but we can always try again next year.”