027. wanderlust

The sun was high overhead, just beginning its descent to the other horizon when Tian Xiaoxu came to disturb his brother’s silent retreat. Ren Li hadn’t given him many details but when one younger brother was bothered, the other usually matched. If Xiao knew anything at all, it was that Tian and Ren moods were inextricably linked. Whether one caused the other or if it was a symptom of a lifelong bond was difficult to say—besides, Xiao didn’t really have an interest in why. 

He simply had an interest in seeing the middle Tian happy again. 

Xiao came calling with lunch: a covered basket with rice, fish soup, and a few cold side dishes for two. He stood just outside his junior’s door when he called for entry.

“Oi, Yu’er,” one prince shouted friendly to the other. “Gao Erxun beat my ass because I was the only one at lessons and Gao Suilian laughed at me, so I brought you some food.”

“Okay.” Yuhui rested sleepless in his bed, watching a spray of rippled light dance upon his wall, cast from the pond catching a breeze in his small courtyard. He rose in the same robe he’d gone to sleep in the night prior and moved to the door to open it for his older sibling, following behind once he stepped inside.

“You know Suilian is in love with you, right? She was probably making noise to get you to even glance her way for a little while.” The middle prince knelt before his low table, taking a seat upon his favorite cushion. His legs were a neat collection gathered beneath his weight. “Sorry I missed you getting your ass beat, though. Truly.”

As he spoke, Yuhui picked up a half-touched pair of oranges left out to apparently dry up. He placed them to the side to be taken away.

“I know. It’s, like, your favorite,” Xiao balked, sarcasm barely evident in his dry delivery. Regardless, the elder set himself down onto the cushion across from Yuhui and busied himself setting their lunch out on the low table. When everything was set out, he placed a small item to the right of his bowl, a masterfully carved rosewood box with flecks of metal gracing the darkest parts of the grain. A pair of jade swords were inlaid in a brass medallion atop the garden scene carving. Xiao didn’t make any indication toward the box. He simply went about his lunch conversation like a treasure wasn’t located at his elbow. “And you’ve got to be kidding me, Gao Suilian? She is absolutely not in love with me. No—no, that girl is in love watching me lose sparring matches.”

Yuhui pulled his lips into a tight line full of disbelief, head tilting to the side briefly. “Uh-huh, whatever you say.”

Though the younger boy’s eyes swept over the elaborate box left unaddressed, his reach landed on his bowl of rice, retrieving it to begin eating. “Sorry for leaving you alone out there. I thought I heard Ren Li in the hallway earlier and assumed you’d have at least some company. I know it’s no fun for teacher if he can’t kick the combined asses of all of us at the same time.” Yu swallowed a large chunk of rice. “Hope he doesn’t tattle on my skipping to Master Xueyu. He’ll surely punish me for not ‘taking things seriously.’“

“Ren Li left with Fei earlier,” Xiao informed his brother but delved no further. If Yuhui wanted to tell him what happened, he would. There was no point in pressing the young prince for information if he didn’t want to give it up. Instead, Xiao set a bowl of soup in front of his brother before serving himself. “You hear about the Millipede coming up for challenge next week?”

“I haven’t really been paying attention, my thoughts have been concerned with other matters.” Yuhui alternated between soup and rice, exceedingly careful in his every movement now that Laike’s wards were starting to wear off. “Are you going to go for it? Do you find yourself craving more spilled blood from Feng Quan?”

Listlessly, Xiao picked up a piece of cold smoked fish and dropped it on his rice bowl. “Mm, it’s not something I can use—I mean, I could but it’s not really where I wanna take my abilities, you know?” Picking up his bowl, the older brother shoveled some rice into his mouth before taking a bite of the fish. “I guess since you’re not paying attention, you haven’t heard what it does: legend says that the Jade Millipede let the old hero Bai Yueju direct and channel chaos, ghosts, spirits, whatever you wanna call them.” Xiao looked up at Yu, a fond glimmer of trouble in his eye. “Sounds like something you could use, doesn’t it?” 

“Oh?” Pausing his meal, Yuhui’s eyes lit up at the possibility of being able to control the unspiraling of his disarray, a shock of an expression suddenly bright in the dour declension of his day. “Do you know who else is challenging for it? Anyone good?” 

“I’m not sure yet. I wanted to go in with a team already set up. Obviously dumb Feng Quan will challenge it, even though it’s not his sort of thing, cause it’s legendary or whatever but I’m not having him as an ally again. That was bullshit. So I guess he’ll probably ask Ma Yixun.” Xiao put down both his rice and his chopsticks, leaning on one elbow as his other hand started to toy with the inlaid box at his side. “I’m just starting to think about it. I was gonna ask Ren Li, for sure.”

“Yeah, if you get Li, you could probably get Fei. What about Erxun? When’s the last time he went to arena?” The middle child tilted his head. “Or maybe you could ask Master Xueyu for a few of his disciples?”

“I kinda know who I want my third to be already,” the older Prince hummed, spinning the box between two fingers. “I haven’t asked him yet, but…”

“Oh gods,” Yuhui rolled his eyes. “You’re getting ready to say something dumb. Did you feel it just then? The way the atmosphere contorted in preparation?”

“Shutup, this is important,” Xiao snapped sharply. He took a breath. “Look, I’ve just been saving this artifact for a while and it would really mean a lot to me if Boon’s sister sword was your first inlay.” Finally, the Tian heir opened the box: nestled in a soft bed of camphor scented velvet was an impossibly deep star sapphire, the color of cornflower morning mist over a blushing sea, six rays like lightning nearly glowing through its center. He put the box on the table and pushed it over toward Yuhui. “I mean your treatment really seemed to help. I was hoping you could debut on the Millipede. I’d like to try and get it for you, with you, Yuhui.”

The younger boy’s dark sight fell to the box, quiet in the moment he took to observe from afar and then closer His hands reached out to pick the object up, cradling its container in his palms. He turned it back and forth, watching the way the star moved along with the light, the way it shone from a depth unknown as though some jealous Earth God captured a drop from the sky, encased it in dew, and cursed it to live forever in the cruelness of its own hopelessly compact world.

Yuhui nodded after a moment, obviously touched but unable or unwilling to dig through his thoughts to find the exact words to express as much. He looked up to his brother and placed the box in an errant ray of sun, dazzling cobalt in the warmth of day.

“Yeah,” Yu said, “We’ll do it together. Thank you, Xiao.”

“I’ll take you tomorrow to have it inlaid.” Xiao’s grin betrayed his understanding; he was more than capable of reading Yuhui’s subtext. “I haven’t told father I’ve given this to you yet. He would surely object. He and mother both treat you so delicately but I know you are stronger than they can observe.” The older royal picked up his soup and took a sip of the broth, gaze finally falling from Yuhui’s face. “Maybe you can ask that Luanshi boy who treated you to help you practice. Pulling your sword from a stone takes some getting used to.”

“Okay, I’ll ask him when I see him again.” As his brother’s focus returned to their meal, Yuhui’s attention strayed. He looked out through the pulled screens leading to his courtyard, watching nothing but the way the breeze made mischief in the bushes. “Are we going to go to that new guy you found? If so, I want to stop in the market to pick up a couple of things on the way there or back.”

“Yeah, I’mma take you to Hua Jin,” Xiao confirmed before he took the time to finish off the cold fish he’d taken and quickly down half his bowl of rice. “Mm, if that artifact does what I think it does and that guy keeps warding you, I think things are gonna calm down, Yuhui. Then maybe you can be free to think about your future, the things you want in life—less about whether or not the sky is actually gonna fall down.”

“His name’s Laike.” The boy’s voice was a cold plateau quickly recovering, a brisk huff in the warm familiarity between them. “But yeah, it’ll be nice. I actually think about what I want in life and the future all the time. This’ll just be from a different perspective. Normal, easy.” He turned his chin, on second thought. “Well, maybe not easy but I’m looking forward to it, either way.”

Yuhui picked up his rice again. “So what’s the plan? How are we going to break this to mom and dad? Not even the inlay—the challenge. Ask permission and beg and plead, or just do it and beg for forgiveness when it’s done?”

“I haven’t thought about it yet.” The elder boy chewed the tips of his chopsticks as he looked up toward the ceiling, like a world of good ideas hung above their heads and all Xiao had to do was pick the right one. “One step at a time, right? Let’s get you inlaid. Maybe you can send a bird to Yunji in secret, or however you two communicate. Laike—” Xiao dutifully stressed the mountain disciple’s name to show Yuhui he was listening, “—should ward you again before we go. Just to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

“Mm,” Yu agreed, nonchalant. “Then I’ll see if I can catch him tonight if we’re going tomorrow. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“We are definitely going tomorrow.” Drinking the last of the broth in his soup bowl, Xiao scarfed down the rest of his rice before grabbing a small bundle of greens and shoving those into his face soon after. Sometimes Xiao couldn’t be bothered to maintain the picture of royal grace he was required to display at court and highbrow social functions. Sometimes the Crown Prince just had better, more important things to do. “Get to know it. I don’t know her name or if she’ll let you name her. I don’t know anything about your sword except they were found together in the same crypt, tamed together by mother and father when they wandered the countryside together before we were born.”

“Ugh, mom and dad used to be so much cooler than they are now,” Yuhui lamented on a long sigh, resting an elbow on his table so his open palm could catch his cheek. “I miss when mom used to come see me every night before going to bed. She would tell me all these stories of all the things she saw when they were out traveling together. I always thought of them as these beautiful folk heroes, you know? Romantically roaming the unending spread of the world, looking out for one another rather than the actuality, which was probably like, scrounging berries and trying to not smell bad.” He laughed. “But yeah. I’ll be ready, don’t worry.”

“If we win, maybe you’ll be able to travel,” Xiao offered as he rose. “If Master Xueyu lets Laike wander with you, you’d be all set, huh?” The older boy grinned. Truth be told, Tian Xiaoxu knew his brother well. He knew his craving for human connection, knew the ferocity of his heart, and his hunger for experience, sensation, everything. Xiao sincerely believed the Jade Millipede was Yuhui’s best shot at any sort of normalcy and he’d do anything to give his little brother that sort of comfort. “I’ve gotta attend to some stuff in town to get ready for tomorrow. I’ll send someone for the dishes, okay?”

“Okay.” Yuhui stood to see his brother out, following him to the door. “Thanks for coming to see me and for bringing food.” Though he talked like he lived on an island so difficult to get to (and oftentimes it felt like he truly did) the younger Tian always admired the older for braving his unpredictable brambles, for spending time in his anomalistic sunshine.