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Chang Geng dreams, sometimes, when Zixi is away.
He is wary of the things his mind can conjure up, but — this is different from the torments of the Bone of Impurity, or even from the more mundane fears that keep him up some nights, when the burden he’s taken on weighs too heavily on his shoulders.
He sleeps best in Zixi’s arms. If he has any visions then, they are usually soon forgotten. But when he is not there, has been gone for a few weeks and their bed is cold and Chang Geng misses him...
He dreams.
Of Zixi gazing at the moon from a lookout tower, laughing with his men, writing letters home.
It feels undoubtedly real, as though Chang Geng could reach out and trace his beloved features. He never does, never calls out to him, content to watch from the sidelines until the dream world fades away. Zixi never notices him either, going about his evening as usual. Sometimes, he stops to look in the direction of the capital, but that is the only indication that Chang Geng is on his mind.
For years, Chang Geng thinks nothing of it, is certain that it must be his longing given shape. They used to go months and years without seeing each other, but he wonders how he could survive it now.
One night, however, doubt starts to set in. Because Zixi, on a stroll along the edge of the camp, has brought his flute along. It takes only a few discordant notes for Chang Geng to wake with a start.
His mind can conjure up all sorts of horrors, but not those sounds, he thinks fondly.
The shock of it is jarring enough to shake loose a memory: he’s heard Zixi’s flute in his sleep before, on another night where he'd had a curious dream. When Zixi had been far away, and he’d been missing him terribly. It was only later that he’d learned that Zixi’s ridiculous liuli glass had actually — if briefly — existed. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time, concerned with far more pressing matters.
Now, however... it could certainly be a coincidence, but if his suspicions are correct and he really is seeing Zixi, it could mean there is some lingering barbarian magic in him, or remains of the Bone of Impurity.
On a whim, he sends him a wooden bird the following morning.
Yifu, I dreamed of you last night. You were playing the flute in the moonlight.
I was! Did I look devastatingly handsome?
Yes, but unfortunately I could hear you. Come home soon.
When I’m back I’ll play you your song, you’ll see I’ve improved!
The message makes him smile, but the worry at the back of his mind grows. He writes to Chen Qingxu; if anyone has answers, it’s her. When he asks her if she’s come across other types of dream-related rituals in her research, however, his teacher only looks vaguely nauseated, mutters something about fated lovers and finds an excuse to leave. Which at least tells him it is unlikely to be dangerous, but without further information, all he can do is wait.
The next time it happens, it is some months later and Zixi is inspecting troops in the south. They are in his tent, where Zixi is frowning at expense reports, and Chang Geng takes a moment to look at him, at his creased brows and tense shoulders. He tries calling out to him, but there is no answer. Which isn't unusual, as Zixi's hearing comes and goes these days, but when he reaches out to brush his shoulder, Chang Geng's outstretched fingers close on empty air.
He wakes immediately, unsettled, and with half a mind to abandon his duties and rush to his general. But the moment passes, so he makes himself some tea, and settles for writing him a note.
I dreamed I was by your side but could not reach you , he sends, and does not go back to sleep. He practices his sword forms until dawn breaks, and then heads for the court.
He does not have to wait long for an answer: as the sun sets and he puts aside his work for the day, the wooden bird comes back.
I'll be home tomorrow night.
Chang Geng breathes, and some of the tension in his shoulders eases.
To say that Zixi is concerned about the fact that Chang Geng’s dreams are troubled once again is putting it mildly. As soon as he’s back at the Manor, he relentlessly hassles Chang Geng until he caves and takes a few days off. Even then, he remains restless until Chen Qingxu, whom he had summarily summoned, assures both of them that, whatever Chang Geng’s dreams are, they have very little to do with the Bone of Impurity.
She looks somewhat harried as she explains:
"The Eighteen Tribes believe that it is possible to see one's...beloved... in sleep, and even to share one mind. It is not a dangerous practice.” She pauses, then adds. “There is a method to it. Learning to harness it could be useful."
Zixi looks dubious, and Chang Geng cannot blame him for it. His barbarian heritage has brought nothing but misery to their lives, after all. However, he has long understood the power in understanding one’s enemy and, besides, the ability to see Zixi when he is far away is not something he can dismiss easily. They may be at peace now, but their positions will always bring their share of danger.
Chen Qingxu leaves some notes with him and though they are sparse — she had looked into the practice as possibly related to the Bone of Impurity, but soon abandoned that thread as it seemed more like the stuff of love poetry than anything practical — he thinks he understands the gist of it.
Despite Zixi’s wariness, he agrees that if it is something that is bound to happen, they should understand it, and complains only a little as Chang Geng brews him sleep-inducing tea.
“I thought we were done with sorcery,” he sighs, but downs the drink without hesitation when Chang Geng offers it to him. They fall asleep side by side in their bed, hands clasped together.
After what feels like a long fall, Chang Geng opens his eyes to a murky landscape. It looks like the aftermath of a battle, the only sounds coming from feasting carrion birds and torn banners fluttering in the wind.
Chang Geng’s heart aches. There is no sign of Zixi, but this place feels like him in some way. There are towering gates in the distance, so he heads for them. The heavy doors seem made of iron, imposing and immovable. Chang Geng smiles.
How like his general.
He knocks gently, pitches his voice low.
"It’s me, yifu. Let me in?"
Slowly, as if reluctantly, the great iron doors creak open, and the world warps around him.
Several scenes flash in quick succession: he sees a young Shen Yi, already looking aggrieved, the old Marquis and the Princess. He sees his brothers as children: A-Yan who had been such a dear childhood friend and Li Feng before the throne had weighed him down. The treacherous previous emperor. Countless dead comrades.
He sees Yanhui and his own teenage years, hears echoes of laughter in that little house and feels the cold of the northern winds. There is blood and sand and the smell of burning ziliujin in the air.
Loss and anger and satisfaction and wonder. Affection, hatred, despair, hopes.
It’s dizzying.
Something in the kaleidoscope of memories catches his attention and he finds himself lingering on the day he had been unable to fend off the Bone of Impurity. He cannot seem to tear his eyes away, chilled to the core by the vision of his own body. Of himself snarling like a wild beast, eyes red and unseeing. A monster.
He is startled by arms around his waist and a voice by his ear:
"Darling, what are you doing here?"
He unconsciously presses into the warmth at his back.
“That day, I…”
“It’s just a memory.”
“But what if I’d…”
"I would have loved you still," Zixi says, solemn, and leads him away.
The next location Chang Geng doesn’t recognise. They find themselves below a plum tree, and he thinks they’re at the Manor at first, but the architecture is different, the gardens lush and well cared-for.
“What is this place?” he asks, looking around curiously. There is a peaceful air to it. Comfort, too — it feels like home.
“It doesn’t exist yet,” Zixi tells him, mischief lurking in his eyes. “But it will.”
A stunned oh escapes Chang Geng. So this is what the plans Zixi has been spending so much time working on are for. This is where they’ll go, when their work is done.
“Show me around?” he asks, and his voice shakes only a little.
Zixi takes him through every part of the grounds, as proud as if he’d grown every flower and made every tile by hand. He asks for Chang Geng’s opinion on everything from the colour of the roofs to the location of the pond, but Chang Geng can only laugh and repeat it’s perfect until Zixi complains that he’s usually more opinionated. So Chang Geng pushes him up against a wall and shows him his appreciation more thoroughly.
Later, Chang Geng wakes with a heart so filled with affection that it is a little painful, and no further insights on the workings of his mysterious ability.
It’s alright, though. They have time to figure it out.