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#that lan armstrength tho
useless-slytherclaw · 4 years
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Part 2/6
It’s still odd to be night hunting with Jin Ling, Ouyang Zizhen, and the others.  It’s not that Sizhui doesn’t like them; it’s just different.  The members from other sects fight differently than the Lans do.  They are louder, and in the evenings they even eat and drink more.  A few of the Lan disciples seem inclined to join them.  Sizhui does his best impression of Hanguang-jun to put them off of it, but he has no real power to stop them.  
They’ve been chasing incidents of violence against cats ever since both he and Jin Ling found dead cats outside their rooms on several occasions.  Today though, they had been approached by some townspeople before they left their inn in the morning.  The villagers said there was a ghost in the woods that was kidnapping travelers and begged the cultivators for help.  Sizhui had automatically agreed to help because his father would have.  Jin Ling had frowned at him but hadn’t rejected the idea.
“What gives you the right to speak for all of us?” Jin Ling demands once they are outside of the city. “We are in the middle of the investigation.”
“You-” Jingyi interjects with a scowl on his face, but Sizhui cuts him off with a hand on his arm.  Sizhui’s voice is calm as he replies to Jin Ling.
“These people have no protection against whatever is in the woods.  We should help them.  You can keep going if you don’t want to help.  Jingyi and I will search for the beast.”
Jin Ling frowns at him.  “Let’s go then,” he finally says and turns in the direction of the woods.  They decide to split up into pairs and search.  Mostly they break into groups along sect lines, but Ouyang Zizhen rushes after Jin Ling, and the rather flighty Lan Yexuan looks after him with a small frown before making a beeline for another disciple from Baling Ouyang Sect.  Jingyi falls into stride beside him as Sizhui reminds the rapidly scattering Lan disciples to check their signal flares and use them if needed.  When Sizhui moves into the woods, it’s with Jingyi at his side. 
It was nice.  He’s been night hunting with Jingyi since they were old enough to go on hunts.  Moving with him through the night is familiar and comforting, and he much prefers it to night hunts with all the disciples crowded together.  He sighs.
“What is it?” Jingyi asks him.
“It’s nice to have a moment,” Sizhui tells him as they walk.  “It’s not that I don’t like the other disciples.  But it’s a lot.”
Jingyi gives him a sympathetic smile.  Jingyi has never had problems with crowds of people like Sizhui does, but he’s always been understanding.  
They continue to make their way through the woods with swords partway out of their sheaths.  The woods around them grow unnaturally silent, and he exchanges a glance with Jingyi, who nods.  Something is strange here.  Sizhui puts his hand on his sword as he slowly moves forward.  Jingyi moves closer to him in case something tries to separate them in the dark.  There’s a rustling sound akin to leaves in the wind, and Sizhui turns towards it, but he’s not fast enough.  Something grabs his leg and jerks.  He cries out as pain blooms and he stumbles.  It’s too dark for him to see anything, but he swings his sword at the place just beyond his foot as he falls to the ground.  
There’s a flash of light that blinds him for an instant, but then he can see.  A golden light talisman is burning above him.  He looks down and sees a vine wrapped around his ankle.
“Tree demon,” he calls out as Jingyi races past him with his sword out.  Sizhui tries to push himself up, but his ankle won’t take his weight.  So he pulls out his guqin instead before crossing his legs despite the pain.  He focuses on the Sound of Vanquishing.  In the light of the talisman, he can now clearly see the writhing tree demon.  Jingyi is fighting in a white and blue blur of boy and steel that Sizhui wishes he had time to admire.  
Sizhui tears his gaze away and focuses his energy.  Jingyi is in danger and so is he.  In a single practiced move, he strums the guqin. The chord echoes into the trees somehow carrying the sound of frigid mountain wind.  The tree-demon fighting Jingyi starts to writhe.  Before Sizhui can gather himself to attack again, it falls limp, and vines and branches crash to the ground.  Jingyi turns to him with a grin already spreading across his face.  
“That was great, Sizhui!”  He sheathes his sword in a single elegant motion.  “You’re going to be as good as Hanguang-jun soon.”
Sizhui blushes and changes the subject.
“Do you think there are more?” Sizhui asks.  The normal sounds of the forest have returned around them.  Still, he doubts that one tree demon is the cause of several missing people unless the demon inhabited more than one tree.
“It’s possible.”  
As Jingyi moves towards him, Sizhui stores his guqin in his qiankun pouch.  Jingyi offers him a hand up, and Sizhui takes it.  He grits his teeth as he stands and puts weight on his bad leg.  Jingyi notices immediately.
‘What’s wrong?” The grin is immediately replaced by concern.
“The vine got my ankle,” Sizhui explains.  He’s leaning hard on Jingyi despite himself.  Sizhui frowns and focuses his energy towards healing the wound.
“Here,” Jingyi says, lowering Sizhui back to the ground.  “Let me look at it.”
“It’s fine,” Sizhui protests, but Jingyi is already kneeling in front of him.  He gently removes Sizhui’s boot.  He raises two fingers to Sizhui’s ankle which is already starting to bruise and swell.  A stream of energy runs from his hands to the wound and cool relief spreads up Sizhui’s leg.  Above them, the light talisman burns out leaving the scene to be painted in the blue color of Jingyi’s spiritual energy.  
“It’s not broken,” Jingyi says, and Sizhui nods in agreement.  More healing energy flows from Jingyi’s hand into his leg, and it takes the aching edge off the pain, but the ankle probably still won’t take his weight.
“Save your energy,” Sizhui says and places his hand on Jingyi’s.  “There might be more tree demons.  Just help me up.  I’ll have to lean on you a bit.”
“I’ll carry you,” Jingyi says with a dismissive wave of his hand.  He’s moving before he finishes his sentence.
“What?” Sizhui’s voice shoots up at the end as Jingyi puts an arm under his knees and one at his back and lifts him off the ground.  “You don’t have to do this!”
Sizhui’s heart jumps into his throat.  Jingyi is so strong, of course Sizhui knows this.  He’s sparred against Jingyi enough times to feel the strength in his swings, and he’s watched his effortless handstands.  There are even accidental glimpses of his bare upper body in the cold spring burned into Sizhui’s mind.  But it hadn’t occurred to him that Jingyi could do something like this.  He knows he’s never going to get it out of his head now.  He can feel his cheeks burning and studiously does not look up at Jingyi’s face.
“No,” Jingyi agrees as he starts to walk back towards the road.  “But walking will only make your leg worse.”
“But what if there’s another tree demon.  You need to fight.”  Despite his protests, Sizhui is already relaxing into Jingyi’s embrace.  He feels safe cradled against Jingyi’s chest.  It’s so nice.
Jingyi smiles at him.  There’s the shwing sound of a sword leaving its sheath as Jingyi draws his sword without touching it.  Sizhui smiles; Jingyi really has improved his sword cultivation recently.  
Still, he continues his argument.   “This is embarrassing.” 
“It can’t be embarrassing.  No one else can see us.”
Sizhui sighs.  Jingyi is stubborn, and if he’s set on carrying Sizhui, then Sizhui may as well be arguing with a stone.  Besides, he doesn’t really want Jingyi to put him down.  It’s hard for him to think about anything other than the warmth of Jingyi’s body or the way he’s being effortlessly supported.  Sizhui focuses on channeling healing energy down to his ankle because if he focuses on the press of Jingyi’s body against his, his imagination might run away with him.  He can’t lie to himself about the warmth spreading through him or the traitorous part of his brain cataloging every inch of his body that is touching Jingyi’s.  But now is really not the time for those thoughts. 
So Sizhui keeps his attention on his ankle.  Occasionally he glances up at Jingyi as they walk.  Even as time wears on, Jingyi shows no sign of strain or fatigue.  He spares a second to be impressed by his stamina before he has to very quickly shove that thought away.  He’s deeply grateful for the shadow of the night that keeps his blush hidden.  He’s not sure how long it is before they begin to hear the sounds of other disciples.  One of the louder voices is almost certainly Jin Ling.
“Down,” Sizhui hisses as it dawns on him the picture the two of them must paint.  “Put me down.”
“Worried about what young mistress Jin is going to think about you?”  There’s an edge to Jingyi’s voice that Sizhui doesn’t recognize.  
“No,” Sizhui protests.  “It’s not him.  It’s… We’re almost grown men.  I shouldn’t have to be carried around like a maiden.”
Jingyi snorts, but he sets Sizhui back on his feet.  He’s careful to support Sizhui’s weight as the boy tries his ankle again.  It’s still wobbly.
“Thank you,” Sizhui says.  “I should have said that earlier.”
“It’s no problem,” Jingyi says with a smile.  He lets Sizhui lean on him as they approach the others to report. 
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