Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The sky is long, the road is far, bitter flies my spirit;
The spirit I dream can't get through, the mountain pass is hard.

                                                                 — Li Bai, Long Yearning

Blood pooled around the body laying sprawled out in the alley, completely motionless save for the occasional twitch of a finger. A pack of cigarettes lay crumpled beside it, half its contents now resting in the growing puddle. The man, for it had been a man at some point, wore a dull pink shirt with a cheerful teacup embroidered on the chest, also worn by the one currently tearing his shirt to shreds with his teeth. 

Hunched over the body, with his face buried in its open chest cavity, was Xue Yang, snapping away at sinew and bone to reach the heart nestled between the man's ribs. He made no sound as he ate, save for the squelching of wet meat between his teeth. Despite this silence, his body appeared to shiver, as if ecstatic to be consuming such a feast. 

His hair clung to his face in matted strands, and his eyes, wide and wild, glowed under the dim neon signs of the alley. They were the color of the blood dripping down his chin. 

Song Lan let out a strangled sound which immediately alerted Xue Yang to his presence. Pausing his meal, he snapped his head up to look him dead in the eye. 

Their manager was not twitching anymore. 

Song Lan stumbled back into the shop, turned himself around, and ran. 

—

A thousand years was a long time to reflect on a few things. Fate had been kind to some, allowing the wandering Song Lan to restore the souls of Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing, after which he was able to rest and join them in the cycle of reincarnation. A fitting end for those who only wished to live in peace and help others, whose only sin had been caring too much. 

Fate had not been so kind to others. 

When Xue Yang opened his eyes again after being left to die by the side of the road, he'd expected for a split second to find himself in Diyu. Upon seeing that he was once again in the empty little town he'd once called home, he mistakenly thought perhaps he'd been given a second chance at life. 

He would not be so lucky. 

The first years were the roughest. He could rest, but he'd feel no relief. He could eat, but he couldn't taste. He felt as if there were no point to him being alive at all, if he even was, and to make matters worse, he felt shackled to this place. Even if he felt the urge to leave the confines of the town, he could never muster up the strength to do so, save for on three occasions, all which had led to him ending up right where he'd started.

With nobody around for company, all he could do was walk the empty streets and talk to himself. He said many things and nothing at all, occasionally barking with laughter, very rarely on the verge of tears. 

Loneliness was cold, and existence felt like torture. 

And then people began to appear, and matters became somehow worse. 

He watched the family from a distance at first, sizing them up and studying their patterns, all while irrationally hoping for a hint of familiarity to be found in something they did. Before he could get close to them, a second family appeared, and the process repeated. By the third family, he decided to get a little closer. 

It was night time when it happened. One of the men had gone out towards the treeline to get his hands on some firewood, and had walked past Xue Yang, who had been watching him from the street. All at once, the man's heartbeat became the only thing he could hear. 

It flooded his senses, pounding within his skull and throbbing in his throat. He could taste sweetness on his tongue, the long-forgotten delight nearly sending him to his knees. Burning hunger ripped through his stomach as his mouth watered, and the world suddenly became black. 

When he came to, the man lay dead beside him, and his stomach felt full for the first time since his awakening. 

There were more after the man. Any person whose heartbeat he could hear, Xue Yang consumed, and he did so gleefully. Before long, the town would become empty again, but his need to be sated ruled over his desire for company. It wasn't until the girl that he was given pause. 

Her hair had been tied up in the same way as Little Blind. Her face had been round and her eyes had been clear. Xue Yang no longer felt hungry in that moment. 

He felt scared. 

He ran out of the town, towards the jagged peaks surrounding it, and threw himself into the nearest crevice he could find, far away from screaming voices and brandished swords. 

He stayed there for a very long time. 

During this time, he thought about the real Little Blind and where she might be. At first he felt irritation at her betrayal, but very quickly this was replaced by a series of questions in the darkness of the mountain. 

Had she come back? Was she living on the streets again? Could she see? Was she eating well? Did she still hate him? 

Thinking of her naturally led to him wondering about the Daozhang who had so lovingly taken them both in. What of him, had he come back? Had all those years of tireless work amounted to something after all? Was he well? Was he happy? Was he helping others the way he'd once helped him? 

It was difficult to envision him as anything other than naive, even now, but he'd had plenty of time to reflect on his own motivations in trying to revive him. Even if he couldn't outwardly admit to it, he'd wanted to return the favor of care. He'd wanted to spend just one more day together, pretending everything was as it had been. He couldn't change the past, but he could live in it. 

Perhaps at first his motives had been more selfish. He couldn't remember now, or maybe he didn't care to. It didn't matter. All that mattered was the thought of Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing out there somewhere, living happily and not being taken advantage of. Maybe they were caring for each other to make sure neither of them got hurt, just as they had been doing before he'd arrived. 

If he tried hard enough, he could still hear the sound of their laughter. It made something inside him twist and blister, bubbling up until it tapered off into a sweet ache that settled on his bones. 

Sometimes he was grateful for the suffocating embrace of the mountain.

This was especially true of when he thought of Song Lan, the third missing piece, the one he'd let slip through his fingers in favor of digging his own grave further. When he thought of him and the hatred he felt, locked away by the thin nails embedded in his skull, he clawed at the crevice walls until his fingers bled. 

It was better not to think of anything at all sometimes, and in striving to achieve this, he lost track of time. By the time he decided to leave the mountain, the world had changed more than he ever could have foreseen. 

Yi City was no longer a dead little town, but a lively metropolis reaching out past what he could see. The buildings were tall and shiny in a way he could barely comprehend, with some familiar ones peeking out here and there amidst the glitter. Carts appeared to drive themselves and made a horrible noise, to say nothing of the smell, and lanterns had been replaced, seemingly, by flames that did not flicker. 

Xue Yang's curiosity for the environment he found himself in was overshadowed only by his intrigue at the people. Nobody's clothes looked like his anymore, and everyone's hair was stiff and foul smelling! They bustled amidst bright streets, but did not seem to notice one another unless they traveled in groups. There were no market stalls that he could see, and no vendors calling out to passers-by. The flow of energy was the complete opposite of what it had been all those years ago. 

Only he remained the same. So much so, in fact, that he stuck to the shadows to not be seen and put on the spot. He could hear heartbeats all around him, calling to him and his gurgling stomach. He had to be careful, lest he not know how to protect himself in this new world. 

His wondering thoughts increased as he imagined Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing in one of the glossy storefronts he walked by at night, and it was with some level of discomfort that he realized he wanted to see them still. They would've adapted fine, of course. They'd have no need for him. And yet… 

Breaking the glass was easy, but the hideous blaring sound that accompanied it made sticking around the shop a hassle, so he grabbed as many clothes as he could and ran off into the night to seek shelter. Although his crevice was useful in a pinch, he'd need to find a proper place to live if he wanted to infiltrate this world. 

Despite the itchiness of his new clothing and their unflattering cut, he ventured out into the city once more with more confidence, seeking out his next meal on one hand, hoping for certain signs on the other. It was so large now, surely it wasn't unfathomable to think they'd ended up here? 

Not that he had any clue what he'd do if he found them, though. It didn't really make a difference, as seeing them would be enough. 

And then there he was. 

Waiting to cross the oddly striped street, standing beside a mother and her child while looking vaguely tired. Hair still long, though not as long as it had once been, free of stiffness and of off-putting smells. The shirt he wore did not seem like something he'd do by choice, with its tighter fit and dull pink color, without making mention of the goofy crest so boldly plastered on its front. 

Song Lan. Song Lan was here, unmistakable in his stance and his downturned lips, somehow integrated into this new reality yet not quite a part of it, mere feet from Xue Yang yet an eternity away. 

Song Lan was here, and his heartbeat rang beautifully in Xue Yang's ears. 

He'd tried not to think so much about him throughout the years, not fond of the way his body demanded he reach out for the darkness or worse, but now that he was seeing him again, Xue Yang couldn't help but begin to walk after him as soon as he started to leave. 

He'd never liked seeing Song Lan's back. It was one of the last things he'd seen before he died, before this new state of being had begun. It was what had cemented that the dream, the nightmare, was truly over, and that he'd never be allowed to return to how things were. It was what had finally proven to him that he was alone. As such, he wanted to reach out to him and turn him around. 

Nothing more than that. Just turn him around and get a good look at his face, the face he'd studied for seven years several lifetimes ago. Would he be able to express his emotions again? 

Could he talk? 

Even if he briefly lost sight of him through the crowd, which Song Lan seemed adamant not to get too close to, Xue Yang could find him again thanks to the pulse humming in his brain. He knew he'd be able to track him down no matter where he went, and right now he seemed to be walking with purpose. 

He had to hold back when he saw him step into a small building boasting the same goofy crest as the one on his shirt; a teacup sporting a wink and a smile, as well as arms and legs. Xue Yang found it a little amusing. 

A sweet aroma was wafting out of the building, accompanied by music he could only describe as annoyingly cheerful, with sounds he'd never heard before thrown in between shrill vocals. Beyond that, the closer he got, he could make out voices inside, and it was with some fascination that he realized even the language no longer sounded the same. 

Song Lan's voice did, however. Xue Yang had never gotten the chance to hear it much, but, for better or worse, he never forgot a person. He sounded tired in a way that barely masked irritation, and was being drowned out by a grating noise berating him. 

Xue Yang wanted to barge in and put an end to the other voice, so unabashedly attempting to speak over Song Lan's heartbeat, but he had a better idea. 

This was his chance to see Song Lan again, but he had to be patient. 

It would take time. 

—

Song Lan did not ask for much in life. He had a decent apartment in the heart of town, with neighbors that were a bit noisy but otherwise pleasant. He had a loving, if stifling, family who supported his wish to live alone— at least for a time, and without forgetting his teachings. He had a few commodities and enough free time to enjoy them. 

He just also hated his job. 

Not only was it humiliating to stand around, all six foot two of him, in a dreary pink shirt with a stupid logo on it all day, five days a week, but his manager was an asshole. Song Lan did not shy away from calling things what they were, but had just enough sense to not do so with the man in the room. 

"Man." Barely. He was younger than Song Lan by a few years, but addressed him with all the condescension one might a small child, if one was an asshole. Like the manager. 

Working at a drink shop was not at all Song Lan's first pick, especially not with how much it involved interacting with others. It didn't help that he was the sole employee, either. Everyone else had quit. (Because of the asshole manager, if that wasn't obvious). 

Had his parents not gotten him this job, he would've quit, too. Friends with the owner. How embarrassing. 

At the very least the hours weren't terrible. Ten to six was dreadfully boring in the company of a tyrant, but he got to spend his evenings destressing and his mornings sleeping in. It wouldn't be permanent, either. As soon as he worked up the courage to tell his family he was done with this stupid job… 

"Late. Again. One more time and you're fired." 

Song Lan wondered why he didn't just pack up and return to the mountains with his parents. 

"Then you'd have no employees," he stated plainly. 

"You think I can't find more?" The manager scoffed. "You live five minutes away, what excuse could you possibly have for tardiness?" 

Song Lan wasn't about to say that he'd felt off upon waking, and that it had taken him longer than usual to will himself out of bed as a result. He would not even dream of mentioning that he felt like he was being followed on the way over, either. It had only been for a fleeting moment, after all, and this man wouldn't care. 

"Stomach bug," he lied, only vaguely ashamed of how easy it was to do so. 

Song Lan did not enjoy lying to good, honest people. Since this man was neither, he had no issue doing so. What would his family think? 

"Ew, and you thought to come into work!?" Truly there was no pleasing some people. If Song Lan had stayed home, he would've been threatened to be fired for that instead. 

"Should I take inventory?" Song Lan curtly moved the conversation along, already eager to get home and scrub himself down in the bath. 

The manager sneered and jerked his head back, stiff hair plastered to it like a helmet. Song Lan would never understand such a trend; he intended to keep his hair intact. 

"I already did, thanks to your absence." 

To Song Lan, this translated to a poorly done job. He would be sure to do a quick once-over of their stock before customers began popping in. As much as the manager claimed to love this shop, he barely dirtied his hands with gruntwork. 

He'd probably been too busy chatting up the baker's girl, too, as she stopped by to deliver her goods. Song Lan could see a fresh array of custard tarts and soft buns kept under a glass lid. 

Wordlessly, he moved to the counter to begin prepping, as his manager continued to harp on about this and that while fumbling with the stereo controls. 

"It's too loud," he said while scooping fragrant tea leaves into a jar, "you'll make the speakers buzz."

"And what would you know of this state of the art contraption?" His manager shot back indignantly. "The music is what draws people to the shop. Obviously. How else will they know we're here?" 

"The giant sign outside might help," Song Lan replied, mostly to himself, as he fought the urge to strangle this man. 

"What was that?" 

Ah, he sounded confrontational— but perhaps he just couldn't hear over the sound of the speakers. Song Lan sighed and abandoned his task in order to stride over and adjust the volume himself. 

The manager did not like that. 

"You can't just—" 

"You're not the owner, Ming Feng," Song Lan cut him off without remorse. 

Ming Feng stared at him, mouth agape. "I'm your fucking boss!" 

"But you're not the owner, and the owner paid for these speakers. If you play them too loudly, they'll become damaged, and then he will have wasted money," Song Lan explained. "I'd rather chance angering you than having us both look bad in front of him." 

It looked like his asshole of a manager was actually taking his words into consideration for once, but he still opened his mouth to complain. 

"I've just about had it with your attitude. Get back behind the bar right now or, uh…" 

Song Lan frowned as Ming Feng trailed off. It wasn't common for him to fall silent during one of his rants, much less sporting a look of concern like he did now. 

"What is it?" He asked softly, feeling the uneasiness that had plagued him this morning return with a vengeance. 

"I thought I saw someone…" Ming Feng weighed his words before continuing, " weird outside."

Song Lan's blood ran cold. " Weird how?" 

"Dunno. Who cares, it was probably a trick of the light. There's no one there." The manager sniffed. "Get to work." 

As he disappeared into the back, most likely to stick something up his nose, Song Lan remained rooted to the spot for a few moments longer. He had the terrible feeling that he should not turn around, lest he be faced with whatever dark energy had warned him to stay in bed that morning. 

He took a few slow steps forward and prayed a customer would arrive soon. 

—

The great thing about Yi City growing was that it expanded Xue Yang's hunting ground. He could move about more freely now, no longer confined to whatever once lay between the town's stone walls. This worked well in his favor whenever he secured a meal; people died all the time, sure, but more than a few heartless cadavers in the same spot might trip some alarms, no? 

Maybe he'd go through some effort to hide the bodies. Maybe not. He hated wasting food, but there was nothing he could do about it. His body demanded only the heart. 

The other great thing about this no longer being a sleepy little town was the variety of people he'd encounter. Would anyone miss a raving drunk wandering the streets at night? The fourth member of a gaggle of troublemaking teenagers? How about a sweet, lonely old lady with no living relatives? 

Xue Yang didn't want to get rid of her, though, and did all he could to make sure his urge was kept under control around her. Mrs Deng was his landlady, after all. 

Of sorts. 

He'd broken into her house with the same ease he'd done the store, happy to not hear any blaring sirens or screaming voices in his wake. He'd half expected the lot to be empty, as he'd seen no light shining through any of the windows, but this had only been due to Mrs Deng having a terrible headache at the time. 

She'd come shuffling into the living room in great alarm at the sound of glass breaking, and Xue Yang, sated and unable to pick up a heartbeat, had done the only thing that had come to mind at the time. 

He'd huddled up in a corner and shivered, looking up at the old woman as if he feared for his life. 

One oh, you poor thing later, and Xue Yang was once again living under someone else's roof and taking advantage of their kindness. It was a nostalgic feeling, one that gripped at the corners of his heart and threatened to pull it apart. 

He tried not to let it consume him. 

"...Should I say I went to university?" 

Mrs Deng, who he'd been living with for a week now, was helping him write up a résumé. He'd fluttered past the silly-looking drink shop for days, and he knew it to be criminally understaffed even despite its size, so in theory he'd have no problem getting a job there, but he'd like to be prepared. 

"Don't lie too much, A-Yang," Mrs Deng chastised him with an amused glint in her eye, teacup lightly trembling in her hold. "You don't want to get caught in one later." 

"But I wanna be impressive," Xue Yang pouted, putting his pen down. 

He'd been hard at work learning about things like university and how to sound like someone of this time. He was sure he'd slip up here and there, but in the grand scheme of things he wasn't worried about being regarded as strange. 

"Do you want to impress your future employer or that friend of yours?" Mrs Deng allowed herself a little giggle at Xue Yang's expense, which he allowed. 

Of course he'd said Song Lan was an old friend. That was what he was, in a sense. Perhaps not from his perspective, but all that would change once Xue Yang was near him again. This would be his chance, his chance to actually get to know Song Lan, to befriend him, to live beside him properly this time, to taste his sweet, tender heart between his teeth… 

Ugh. Best if he didn't think like that for now. The thought was always accompanied by a pang of dread; if he ended up enjoying his time with Song Lan again, why would he want to think of it ending? 

"Both," he answered cheerfully. "I'll just lie to the boss and tell my friend the truth. He won't judge me." 

He might, if he were lying to anyone else. Xue Yang had seen, though. He knew. 

It was okay to lie to the manager. 

Mrs Deng put down her teacup and sighed wistfully, reaching for a newspaper she'd already read a dozen times. It was a few years old. 

She liked that year, she always said. It had good memories for her. 

Xue Yang didn't pry. If she wanted to elaborate, she would. 

"Could you get us some pork after you're done with that, dear? I've still got a few bills in my purse," she gestured to it, resting over on an old table. 

"Sure," Xue Yang chirped. "Just the meat or the bones, too?" 

Sweet Mrs Deng. If she weren't so nice, Xue Yang might consider seeing if those myths about human tasting like pig were true, simply out of curiosity. He couldn't taste it for himself, of course; to him, everything tasted like sand. One would think, with his reputation, that he would've tried the flesh of a human far before this affliction of his, but the truth was he'd never had the chance. 

Tongues, sure. Proper meat? That was a little trickier to pull off when being actively hunted. 

He couldn't wait to see Song Lan again. He nearly walked past the butcher's shop and further towards the newer commercial strip just to stop by the drink shop and get up close and personal, but he'd be able to do that soon anyway. 

Hopefully. 

—

"Where the fuck is Golden Carp Tower University?" 

Ming Feng perhaps wasn't as stupid as Xue Yang had initially thought, judging by how he narrowed his eyes at the words scrawled out on his résumé. It didn't matter that much, as he had just written it in to be cheeky, but it was good to know first impressions could be deceiving. 

"In Lanling, sir," Xue Yang replied in his most innocent, goody-two-shoes voice. 

"You came all the way from Lanling? To work here?" The manager sniffed. 

"I needed to get away from a few things," Xue Yang looked to the side bashfully. All an act. "Find my place in the world. This looks like a great place to start." 

Laying it on thick wasn't something Xue Yang was a stranger to. He just wondered how quickly this particular character would wear him down and have him show his true nature. 

He'd be the first to admit he'd somewhat lost his touch. 

Ming Feng half-assedly scanned the rest of the document before tossing it aside with a quiet "whatever." Xue Yang's eyes followed the page with some curiosity. 

"T-shirts are in those boxes, find one that fits. Get the other guy to show you the ropes. Payment is at the end of the week," Ming Feng waved him off. 

Xue Yang could jump for joy. He knew little about modern money and had no bank account to speak of, but it didn't matter at all to him. He wasn't here for that. 

Bowing as deeply as his phony persona would allow, he gave the manager a grin before thanking him and moving for the door. 

"Oh, one more thing. Consider wearing sunglasses or something," Ming Feng called after him. "Your eyes are kind of weird." 

Xue Yang slowly turned to look over his shoulder, eyes wide and unblinking, with his smile frozen in place. 

"It's a… Birth defect." Whatever it was. He had no idea what this guy was on about; his eyes seemed normal to him. 

Ming Feng shrugged and shooed him off again, and Xue Yang was all too happy to leave. He was so close to his goal, he could taste it. 

Song Lan hadn't slept much the night before. He'd been kept up by a combination of factors which, individually, he would have been able to ignore well enough. 

Coming in first as the worst offender had been the neighbors, who had been throwing a party with what sounded like half the block. He'd found an invitation taped to his door, but had needed to decline, though he'd done the polite thing and given them a big bag of sunflower seeds to share with the guests. He wasn't unfriendly, despite what people might think, and he wanted to make that clear. 

His gesture was rewarded with loud music and obnoxious laughter well into the night, accompanied by the pungent odor of tobacco. 

In second place, not as damning yet still inconvenient, was the light coming in through his window. His blinds had stubbornly jammed and he'd managed to only make the issue worse while trying to fix it. Usually, the light from the street wouldn't bother him much even with such a problem, but the kid living across from him had gotten a nightlight that somehow cast a glow so bright it reached his bedroom. As if that weren't bad enough, it was a sort of carousel, so any moment Song Lan got to enjoy in the dark was immediately interrupted by a beam of light. 

And, finally, third: that uneasy feeling again. This time it wasn't brought on by feeling watched or followed, but rather by something a small letter from his family had mentioned. They mentioned his grandmother feeling anxious about something, much in the same way he had. They also, unhelpfully, mentioned having no idea what it could be. Song Lan did not dedicate too much of his life to worrying pointlessly, but the pit in his stomach had grown a few sizes as he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling in hopes of getting some rest. His grandmother was one of the few people truly connected to the qi flowing through the world— whatever remained of it now, anyhow— and she'd always said he was like her. Thus, if he was uneasy and she was uneasy… 

As such, he'd gotten poor rest, and now he was once again pouring tea from a large bag into a jar. Who partied on a Monday anyhow!? 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see someone step in from the back. 

Xue Yang felt the whole world stop. 

There he was, closer than he'd been in a thousand years, closer than perhaps he'd ever been, mere inches from Xue Yang's fingertips by the time he made his way up to the counter. Song Lan looked the same as he did then, despite the newer wardrobe. His posture was perfectly rigid, giving him a proud stance even as he worked a mundane job. His hair was long and looked silky to the touch, cascading down his back in an inky wave. His lips were set in a line, edges downturned as if he were perpetually unhappy, and they rested beneath a long-bridged, strong nose. His eyes, though sternly cast downward, were his own. 

Xue Yang was going to make sure he didn't slip away this time. 

He was going to hold on tightly. And this time, he'd get to see the real Song Lan. Not the fabricated version who had stood beside him wordlessly all those years. Not the angry version who hated the sight of him. He'd get to find out for himself who he truly was, and it made him so excited he had to stop himself from giggling. 

Maybe he wouldn't like the real Song Lan, but something told him he would. Some memory, buried deep beneath the rest, of a foggy day in a dead town… 

Of course, Song Lan was none the wiser to this, and had instead been feeling his anxiety rise the closer this new person got. Something felt off about him in a way he couldn't explain, possibly tied to how he'd been feeling this past week. It could be his general lack of sleep, or it could be the fact this stranger didn't follow fashion trends either, seemingly having a wild head of hair without using spray or heat… 

Maybe it was the crazed look in his eye. The kind that made him feel like he was about to get eaten alive. He really shouldn't be thinking such things about a stranger, but-! 

Well, it wasn't like he'd have to worry about him for very long. He was surprised this place was still open with how often employees quit.

"Hey," Xue Yang said, and it was all he could do to not ask remember me? 

Song Lan cast a sideways glance his way and closed up his bag of tea. "... Hey." 

They'd exchanged words! Unfortunately, Song Lan didn't seem particularly interested in actually looking at Xue Yang. 

"I'm the new hire," he tried again, all smiles. 

Song Lan felt a little chill run through him at the sight of this new hire's teeth. Those looked sharp. He nodded his head, trying to avoid stating the obvious. 

Xue Yang couldn't understand why he wasn't looking at him yet. He was just going on about his day, setting cups out and heating water. Did Song Lan consider himself above him, or did he somehow remember who he was? 

Look at me, he thought. 

Stop looking at me, Song Lan thought in turn. It was making him nervous! He had customers stare at him from time to time, but he wasn't sure he could handle it for any longer than a few moments at a time… 

"You're supposed to be showing me the ropes." Fighting his growing irritation, Xue Yang tried yet again. 

Song Lan finally turned around, suppressing his urge to sigh. "What's the point? You'll be gone within the week." 

Xue Yang would've felt some offense to this if he weren't currently lost in the fact that he'd never really seen Song Lan's true eyes before. They were clear and bright, icy— yet with a certain edge he couldn't quite place. They left him rooted to the spot, wanting, longing… 

Song Lan had never seen eyes like Xue Yang's either. Wide and hungry, flashing in a color he'd never seen before. Surely it was just brown? Bright… Dangerous brown. Whatever it was, he'd never looked into the eyes of a stranger and found such intensity staring back. It made him look away quickly, desperate for his hands to find something to do so he wouldn't feel so itchy. 

But then, again in his periphery, he saw the new hire's shoulders deflate just a millimeter. 

Xue Yang thought he was going to break something when Song Lan tore away from him. He didn't even understand why, in the same way he couldn't say he understood any of the thoughts he had around him. It was like he became someone else, someone reduced only to basic need, much like he was whenever he cornered someone and—

"I'm sorry." 

A brief silence. Light. 

"That wasn't good of me," Song Lan murmured.

He didn't want to be the cause for someone quitting, he'd hate himself! He had to keep his anger in check, even around people who stared at him weirdly. 

Xue Yang couldn't really describe what it felt like to be apologized to. He couldn't remember a single time it had happened before that moment, so even though he wasn't sure what the apology was for, he felt his shoulders lighten. 

Grinning and picking up a large bag of tea leaves for himself, he finally broke his gaze away. "I'm not gonna quit. That's a promise." 

Song Lan raised a brow at this declaration. At least it seemed he hadn't upset this guy. "This manager can be quite…" 

"Doesn't matter," Xue Yang replied cheerfully, mimicking what he'd seen Song Lan do. "I never break my promises. I'm here to stay, so you'd better make the most of it." 

Despite himself, Song Lan felt the urge to snort. He never felt the urge to snort! Not from laughter, anyway! But who was this guy, speaking so confidently? 

"That isn't where that goes," he said after composing himself, his voice only slightly shaky. "That jar is for jasmine." 

Xue Yang couldn't believe he'd gotten Song Lan to crack so easily. Should he even be calling him Song Lan, actually? What were the odds he'd have the same name as all those years ago? 

"Well, then, I guess you're gonna have to show me the ropes, " he insisted with a little tilt of his head. "Or I'm gonna get fired before I quit." 

"I guess I am," Song Lan conceded, and it took him a moment to realize his nervousness was gone. "Though I'm waiting for you to introduce yourself properly." 

Oh, fuck, that's right. Xue Yang closed the bag with a little smile. 

"I'm Li Xuan." 

He could've chosen any name from their shared past. He could've even chosen his own, to see if anyone remembered him at all. In the end, though, as always, Xue Yang chose to be someone else. 

Just in case. 

"Li Xuan," Song Lan echoed, and it was the first time Xue Yang had heard his name on his tongue without malice. "Song Lan."

No way!!! 

Song Lan's brow furrowed when this Li Xuan guy decided to laugh at him! Nothing but a fleeting giggle, sure, but it left him feeling out of sorts. Was his name weird to him? Should he have actually gone out of his way to use his courtesy name, which only his grandparents used!? 

"What's funny?" He demanded with narrowed eyes. He didn't have to play nice with a stranger if said stranger was going to make fun of him. 

Xue Yang, put on the spot, put his hands behind his back with sheer desire to make matters worse, as he usually did. Innocently, he said "Nothing!" 

He couldn't very well say your name is the same as back then, but it still left Song Lan visibly frustrated. What a familiar expression… 

Grumbling, Song Lan figured he'd let it go for the sake of living in harmony up until he could go home and take a long shower. He was seriously going to need one. 

"Pay attention, customers will show up any minute now," he said with an air of impatience. "These jars are labeled with the type of tea that goes in them. You'll find all the tea bags down here. Jars all go in the same place, please. "

"The same place meaning this area, or…?" Xue Yang could piece it together himself, but he just wanted to hear Song Lan talk. 

"The same exact spot each jar is in now. If you take one, put it back where it was," Song Lan was quick to clarify. "It helps to have a system in place, and you'll most likely develop muscle memory when reaching for certain things."

Xue Yang nodded like he was listening, and he was, but the prominent thought in his mind was still tell me more! 

Song Lan wondered if he truly was paying attention, but he continued on, giving Li Xuan a quick rundown of their working area, reminding him to please wear gloves for the love of God when handling any drink toppings, which the new hire seemed absolutely fascinated by. He then handed him a small stack of recipe cards. 

"Leave the drink making to me for now, but study these," he instructed, "and be sure to watch me work." 

"I will," Xue Yang replied casually, though his intentions were anything but. 

Then, as if feeling like things were too quiet with Song Lan preparing to tell him something more, he added:

"It's pretty." 

Song Lan had no idea what he could be referring to. The fruit cut up like little stars? The tea leaves crammed within their jars? The establishment itself? 

"Your name," Xue Yang clarified, nonchalantly beginning to create a little house out of the recipe cards. 

Song Lan felt his face heat up several degrees. He was caught somewhere between scoffing in disapproval and humming in thanks. Did Li Xuan say things like these often, or was he attempting to be friendly? What if he just said whatever he thought? He wouldn't be alone in that, at least, but… 

God, he really wanted to go home and shower now. He should just tell Li Xuan to focus on work instead of messing around. 

"Yours is… Nice, too," he ended up mumbling. 

And as he wished for the ground to open and swallow him whole, Xue Yang nearly felt himself hit the ceiling. 

—

The work day was over, and Song Lan had been right: the manager was a total ass. Nothing they did was ever good enough for him, and all the while he refused to lift a finger. How someone like him could still be employed had to be down to some kind of nepotism. 

It didn't matter to Xue Yang, ultimately. He wasn't there for the manager, and no amount of bad attitude would drive him away. And now that he was no longer beside Song Lan, he was able to fully process the fact that he'd been with him again. 

Xue Yang felt like a live wire. His body was caught between the need to shiver and the need to scream, tormented by the past yet anticipating the future.

His breath got caught in his throat as he thought of Song Lan, rigid, gray, tongueless, at his every beck and call— but ultimately never his. He saw him walking away, the vision of his back still proud and righteous even after all he'd been through. 

Such an image still made Xue Yang want to claw at his own flesh. Song Lan leaving him always made him think of all that had come before. All the bitterness, the rage, the blood. Toying around with someone's life long after it had ended. It shouldn't matter to him, it shouldn't ever have mattered; first and foremost, Xue Yang existed for himself. Everything else was collateral. 

Then he'd gotten a taste of something more in Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing; a life that was shared, a life that was warm. Understandably, at the time, he'd seen Song Lan as a threat to that life and had reacted what he would've once called "accordingly," only to end up tasting such a life again with him in a way he could now only describe as delusional, even if he wished to deny it. 

He would've never woken up from such a delusion if Song Lan hadn't snapped him out of it himself, some months before that Yiling Patriarch had shown up at Little Blind's behest. Even despite regaining the arm he'd lost, he could still make out faint bite marks on his skin. 

He was fond of them. 

Having everything good ripped from him a second time would've once fueled his desire for revenge, or at the very least some bitterness towards Song Lan— and, for at least a couple hundred years, there surely had been— but now he felt nothing but a pull, a maddening pull to be beside him. 

That was all he wanted, and now he'd achieved it! He was with Song Lan again, he was alive, he had no reason to leave! He looked at Xue Yang without murderous intent, and he spoke to him in a voice that was a little stern, sure, but had a kind of gentle edge that let him know he wasn't unwanted. He'd helped him get used to his new job! They could start over! They could be happy! And then, at the peak of that happiness, Xue Yang could reach into his chest—

No! No, no, no, no, he wasn't going to think about the end no matter how hungry he felt. He was just hearing someone's heartbeat, that was all, and it was resonating in his ribcage… 

… 

To his great dismay, the giddiness that had begun to replace his anxiety was now gone. Everything was gone. All that remained was a hollow noise in his chest, accompanied by the blood dripping down his chin. 

He needed to find a hiding spot for the leftovers. Mrs Deng wouldn't expect him home until later, but the summer heat was getting worse by the day, and by morning this thing would start to stink. 

—

For a shift with only four customers, that sure had felt like a lot. Song Lan couldn't remember the last time he'd encountered someone quite as intense as Li Xuan. Not in an overwhelming way, exactly, though only barely just, but being fair Song Lan was not all that accustomed to company. Again, his coworkers tended to only last a week under the manager's abuse. 

He wondered how much of it he'd be able to take before it became a lack of self respect (which it already was, but, once again, family friend). 

Li Xuan insisted he wouldn't be driven away, but he wondered if that would be true. To his credit, anything Ming Feng said to him was met with cheerful acknowledgment and very little else, as if he hadn't actually heard what he'd said. That was why Song Lan found him to be intense; he seemed unaffected by the world around him and absorbed wholly in his own happy moment. 

That, and the way he looked at him. 

Song Lan wasn't unattractive. He was used to catching a few people's interest, be it due to his height, the clearness of his eyes or the fact he let his hair grow naturally. He never intended to be vain about his looks, but he liked to think he took care of himself, and this was reflected in how others perceived him. 

No one had ever stared at him with such hunger before, though. He didn't want to be presumptuous and think it was due to attraction on Li Xuan's part, however, as for all he knew it could just be curiosity, but it left him feeling a little clammy. He just had to hope whatever it was had worn off and he wouldn't be faced with such stares tomorrow. 

Not much he could do about seeing Li Xuan's face in the dark right now, though… 

He was a fast learner, at least. Faster than anyone Song Lan had ever seen. He'd only really needed to instruct him on minor things, which frankly were only his personal preference (such as letting glasses dry upside down), and everything else had been picked up by observation. He only asked for help once, and it was with counting a woman's change. 

He'd seemed genuinely happy making drinks, too, as if he enjoyed keeping his hands busy. It was a shame they'd only had four people come in, one of whom remained seated at one of their small tables until closing time, though Li Xuan had kept busy the rest of the shift by making small talk and staring (which, to Song Lan's surprise, he sort of did to customers as well). 

Song Lan wasn't sure he'd ever been interrogated so intensely by anyone who weren't a relative. Li Xuan had wanted to know far too much, and as such, whenever questions became a little too personal to answer someone's he'd just met, he'd needed to tell him to focus on work. 

"What work?" Li Xuan had laughed, and Song Lan had needed to scramble to come up with something for him to do. 

Everything he did, he seemed happy to be doing. Cleaning tables, mopping the floor… hell, even taking out the trash. Song Lan barely found himself doing anything by the end of the day because Li Xuan would have done it already. An intense person indeed. 

If this enthusiasm lasted more than a few days, Song Lan would just have to get used to it. He'd need to fight against his instinct to put a wall between himself and any stranger and actually be a good coworker. The prospect was intriguing, to say the least. 

He just didn't want to get his hopes up. If, for some reason, he and Li Xuan ended up becoming friends, and the manager drove him off, he'd be alone again. 

On the plus side, he'd been so tired come bedtime that he'd fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, his busted blinds not bothering him in the least. 

—

Mrs Deng was a kind person. Xue Yang was no stranger to those, nor was he a stranger to getting what he wanted from them. However, all he wanted from Mrs Deng was a roof over his head; no need for food or understanding. And yet here she stood, wrinkled hands working a comb through his mess of hair as she tried to do away with his bedhead (though he didn't sleep, he did occasionally lie down). 

He'd not had his hair brushed in a very, very long time, and the last person to do so had also, on some level, wanted him dead. He wasn't sure what he was feeling at the moment as a result, but he did know the comb felt rather soothing. 

"So everything went well yesterday? You came home so late, I didn't get to ask you about it," Mrs Deng crooned, seeming happy in her task. 

"Better than well," Xue Yang couldn't help but chirp in response. 

His roller-coaster of emotions had once again stopped at excitement at the idea of being beside Song Lan again, and were it not for his remarkable ability to stay still and wait things out, he'd be booking it towards the drink shop. 

"And your friend was excited to see you?" Mrs Deng inquired further while smoothing out his hair with her hand. 

"Oh yeah, very," Xue Yang replied with all the confidence of someone who wasn't living a lie, "he just hasn't shown it yet. But he will!" 

This got a small chuckle out of the old woman, who finally set her comb aside and gave him a light pat on the back. He looked over his shoulder to offer her an impish grin. 

He'd done quite a good job of not raising any red flags around her yet, despite their first encounter, but something told him Mrs Deng wouldn't really care either way as long as she had some company. Still, it wasn't like he was planning anything bad, right? 

"You be good," she instructed while giving his cheek a small pinch. "And don't be late." 

Xue Yang's grin grew to crease his eyes shut. "Don't worry, they can't open without me." 

This was absolutely untrue, but there was no harm in making himself seem more important than he was. 

—

Song Lan did not want to admit that his eyes were lingering on the entrance to the shop. He'd arrived on time today— hell, he'd arrived early, having rested surprisingly well the night before, yet this earliness had put him in the position of wondering if he'd spend the rest of the day alone. 

Wondering if Li Xuan had decided to quit after just one day despite his insistence that he wouldn't. 

If he had, who could blame him? There were better places to work, with better staff and better pay, and Song Lan was used to loneliness. 

He'd just, perhaps , been hoping that this time he'd have someone stay on with him. An absurd notion, really. Maybe this was his sign from the universe to quit…

Or perhaps it was his sign to endure, as Li Xuan was now taking up his field of vision with a bright smile and a spring in his step. He threw the door open like he owned the place and fiddled with the "CLOSED" sign before noticing Song Lan and offering him a wave. 

He seemed a little happy to see him, that hungry look in his eye diminished, yet still there, somewhat obscured by his bangs. Song Lan quickly denied ever doubting that he'd come, and doubly denied caring, as he awkwardly raised his hand in greeting. 

"You can flip the sign," he informed him. "I've already made sure everything's in order." 

Xue Yang's eyes lit up as he was given the go-ahead to start letting people in. Not really out of any desire to attend to anyone, but because it meant his workday alongside Song Lan had officially begun. Even the music choice today was gentle as opposed to upbeat, and it wasn't frying the speakers! 

Their idiot manager must be asleep in the back or something. 

Song Lan looked less grumpy than the day before, as if glad he'd have a helping hand throughout the day. Xue Yang still couldn't believe he was real, all… alive and talking, but the gravitational pull of his soul was unmistakable. It was like a thick red cord, thrown out to lasso around him. 

He wasted no time in joining him behind the counter and rolling his sleeves up for work. 

Song Lan felt like maybe Li Xuan was standing a little too close to him, so he took a half-step away once he'd come up to his station. Maybe he had no concept of personal space, or maybe he was a bit too protective of his own, but either way he didn't want to risk feeling overwhelmed first thing in the morning. 

He was able to play this off by straightening out their napkin stand. 

So many shifts had gone by with just him that Song Lan was not all that used to making small talk, but if Li Xuan's curious eyes trained on him were any indication, he was expected to do just that. Not good. He briefly wished he could conjure up a pair of sunglasses to slip on the man's face. 

He was starting to feel unnerved at how he never seemed to blink. 

"So…" He began, moving the stack of napkins a bit more to the left. "You did well yesterday." 

Xue Yang could tell Song Lan was a tad nervous. Was it his doing? Was he staring just a little too hard? It couldn't be helped, Song Lan was a dream come true for him, a haunting apparition given flesh, flesh he could reach out and touch if he'd only have the guts. 

For now he figured the least he could do was make things a little less awkward. Maybe break the ice a little. 

"I had good instructions," he replied with the kindest smile he could muster. If he was coming on too strong, Song Lan might be driven away, and he currently couldn't imagine anything worse. 

This made Song Lan snort, a brief, quiet sound that Xue Yang could've mistaken for laughter were he not so sure laughing was something Song Lan did not do. Whatever it was, he seemed to have amused him, and that was enough to light up something within his brain. 

"You're a fast learner," Song Lan retorted, "I barely had to do a thing." 

"Not true. If you hadn't done anything, I wouldn't have picked up on it." 

Song Lan had to admit that his attempt at modesty had been thwarted. Li Xuan was being friendly, something he'd forgotten people at the workplace could be, and that he'd have to get used to. He just hoped he didn't become overly friendly as he'd done the day prior with his endless questions. 

He'd quickly find that he would not be so lucky, as the moment he opened his mouth to carry the conversation along, Li Xuan swooped in. 

"We've now known each other officially for a day, too, so I think I've earned the right to ask you more questions." 

It was hard for Song Lan not to gawk at him. What cheek! This guy wasn't going to quit, was he? 

"Like what?" He asked with a poorly disguised air of annoyance that only seemed to make Li Xuan more eager. 

"Like about your family! You barely gave me anything to work with yesterday," Li Xuan almost sounded like he was whining. 

How surreal. Song Lan had never encountered anyone in his age group with such a bold personality. 

He shook his head briefly. "I already told you, they live in a temple." 

"Yeah, but what kind of temple?" His coworker pressed on. "Buddhist?" 

"Daoist." 

Sparks lit up within Xue Yang and danced around his chest at the word. The more familiar things remained, the happier he was. He'd undoubtedly still be glad to have found Song Lan even if his family made a living gutting and selling fish, but the similarities to the past made him feel almost secure in a way that was difficult to explain. 

He wouldn't think too hard on it. He wanted to hear more. 

"And…? Is it big, small, popular?" He urged, stopping himself from nudging Song Lan, who wasn't looking his way. 

Unforgivable. 

"It's a pretty decent size," Song Lan seemed to finally fold, letting his shoulders relax. "The locals seem happy with it. It doesn't close its doors to anyone and my parents ensure it's well maintained."

Xue Yang stopped himself from asking if the temple had a name, and instead redirected his giddiness towards a more inoffensive question. "How far away is it?" 

"An hour and a half by bus, more or less," Song Lan replied with a small grimace. "It's a dreadful journey. Bumpy and cramped." 

Song Lan hadn't said anything particularly funny, yet Xue Yang had ended up laughing anyway. To know he still had an aversion to others and would keep his distance whenever possible was comforting. It was yet another reassurance that this was the same Song Lan as before. 

Still, it didn't stop him from giving Xue Yang a look. Ah, his poor sense of humor was probably the same, too. No matter, he just had to ensure he didn't feel laughed at. 

"I get it," he nodded, as if he'd ever been on a bus in his life, "bumpy and cramped seems like a lot to ask of someone just to see family." 

Another little snort. Perhaps Song Lan felt put on the spot? No matter what it was, Xue Yang liked seeing him express himself (maybe a little too much). 

"I would hate to miss out on seeing them," he clarified. "I just wish owning a car were feasible, if only for the space…" 

Not wishing to ruminate on that which he could not change, Song Lan felt it was time he return the favor. Even if he thought it impolite to just interrogate someone, he had the feeling Li Xuan was almost hoping he would. 

"But what about you? What's your family like?" 

Li Xuan was a little too quick to shrug, and Song Lan immediately thought he'd stuck his foot in it. However, to his great relief, the conversation continued. 

"I'm an only child, just like my parents," Li Xuan took to leaning against the counter as he spoke. "They left the country to find work elsewhere and send money back. I live with my paternal grandmother." 

Song Lan's eyes widened in surprise. He'd asked mostly to ask, but now he was admittedly fascinated. "I've never met anyone whose parents have emigrated. Did they go to the United States?" 

"Yeah," Li Xuan confirmed with a sharp nod. 

"New York?" Song Lan inquired further. He'd never traveled outside the country, but had always wanted to; something he did not bother voicing to his relatives for fear of ridicule.

"I think so? We don't really keep in touch," was Li Xuan's response, accompanied by another little shrug. 

Now Song Lan really felt like he'd stuck his foot in it. Li Xuan's parents had left him behind and had neither returned for him nor flown him over, and here he was about to ask for details on their lives abroad. 

"I'm sorry," he bowed his head in earnest apology. "I imagine you must miss them." 

This, he realized a little too late, might have been like throwing salt on a wound, but to his relief, Li Xuan merely smiled. 

"Nah, not really. I'm happy with my grandma. Always had more of a relationship with her anyway!" He gave a dismissive wave. 

Song Lan was happy to nod and leave it at that, but Li Xuan seemed to have other plans. Leaning in slightly, he appeared to be giving him a coy look. In combination with the words he spoke next, Song Lan didn't know what to feel. 

"Thanks for worrying about me," his voice almost sounded like a purr. 

"I wasn't worried, " Song Lan blurted out, as if scandalized. How could one worry about a stranger? "I just figured—" 

To his dismay, Li Xuan began to laugh again. He wasn't sure if it flustered or irritated him more, but either way, it was not good. Song Lan was not being funny here, he was clearly fumbling a social interaction, and his coworker was just… Laughing. 

But even though he didn't see the humor in it, Song Lan could recognize that the laughter did not seem malicious. 

How odd. 

"Well," Li Xuan calmed himself down after a moment, "I appreciate it, whatever it was. Who knows, maybe I can meet your family sometime to fill the gap." 

Now that had been unexpected. Song Lan felt like his face was going to heat up a thousand degrees. Just who was this guy, always acting so brazen? Where did he find the confidence? 

"Focus on work," he chastised, just as he'd done yesterday. 

And, just like yesterday, Li Xuan replied "what work?", only for the door to open and a customer to walk in. 

Xue Yang had been so enveloped in the joy he felt at Song Lan taking genuine interest in him, that he'd cast a murderous glare in the direction of the woman making her way into the shop. By some miracle, neither she nor his coworker appeared to notice. 

That would've been a little hard to explain away, and could've put his job at risk on just the second day. He had to be more careful. There would be more chances for Song Lan to be curious about him. 

He hoped he wouldn't need to keep pulling things out of his ass, though. As good of a liar as he was, he wasn't sure he could construct an entire life for a family that, as far as he was concerned, had never existed. He wouldn't even be able to point to New York on a map. 

Maybe he should find out where it was, just in case. Song Lan had seemed happy to hear about travel. 

It made him wonder if his previous life as a wandering cultivator had been prompted by more than just a desire to help people. 

He caught himself staring a little too long, the image of a dignified, black-clad Daozhang superimposed over a young man in a muted pink shirt making tea. He forced himself to pull away by offering the woman one of the pastries trapped under a big glass lid. 

He had to push down the bitterness and rage he felt at not being able to taste sweets anymore, even if he were to cram his mouth full of them. 

Maybe he'd bring a few home to Mrs Deng, though. Maybe she'd like that. 

—

Song Lan felt bad that he'd left Li Xuan to handle the manager alone at closing time, but their last customer had spilled his drink all over the counter and Song Lan's arms, he'd snapped reflexively, that idiot Ming Feng had reared his ugly head and Li Xuan, for some reason he couldn't explain, had immediately jumped in, appeased the customer, cleaned up the mess, and told him to make a run for it with a little wink. 

Why? He was the new hire, he shouldn't have to worry about risking his neck on his second day! Not only that, but Song Lan hadn't given him any reason to behave that way. 

At least he didn't think so. Perhaps he was being hard on himself and he wasn't being as curt with Li Xuan as he felt he was. He didn't want to be unfriendly, after all, it was just that the man's more playful personality left him feeling strange. 

Especially with those eyes of his. 

No matter. As he washed away the last of the sticky feeling on his skin, he figured he'd need to thank his coworker as soon as he saw him the next day. 

If Xue Yang were asked why he did it, he'd say that he didn't know, but he did. He'd deliberately tapped into his memory of Jin Guangyao to deal with that clumsy customer and their dickhead manager. He'd deliberately cleaned up that mess before it could hit the floor and he'd deliberately sent Song Lan home as soon as it was possible, because he knew his skin would have surely been burning from discomfort. 

He knew that because he knew the things that hurt Song Lan. 

He didn't want Song Lan to hurt. They were supposed to be having fun together. Anything that could interrupt their idyllic reunion was something that had to be dealt with immediately, and if he'd dealt with this specific thing the way he would've in the past, he would certainly have lost his job and his chance to be beside him. 

It wasn't a big deal. 

He probably shouldn't go after the customer, though. He could go a day without food.