500 years of solitude [1/?]
Title: Fox Tales: Autumn Air [1/?]
Author clubotaku
Pairing: Kris/Luhan with minor Sehun/Luhan, Lay/Luhan
Characters: EXO-M with mentions of Hangeng, Victoria and others
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance, Supernatural, Historical Au!
Summary: After 500 years of collecting hearts, a fox spirit will be able to go to Heaven. Partly inspired by
http://deerwithdragon.tumblr.com/post/26687914574/photos-are-not-mine-credit-to-the-rightful-owner
众鸟高飞尽
A flock of birds is flying high in the distance,
孤云独去闲
A lonely cloud drifts idly on its own.
相看两不厌
We gaze at each other, neither growing tired,
只有敬亭山
There is only Jingting Shan.
-Li Bai李白, Sitting Alone on Jingting Hill独坐敬亭山
The village burns, burns, smoke choking the life out of people. Wufan watches them scream as the flames lick their bodies, watches them gurgle and choke, weapons useless as they try to save their worthless skins. Human flesh, he has discovered, smells somewhat like pig flesh but without that strong scent that pervades game meat. Something flickers in him, something old, human, but the feeling passes and he continues to sit on the hill, watching. He can feel the heavy weight of the stare his compatriot is giving him, but the other does not budge and remains sitting, watching Wufan watch people die. When there’s nothing but ash and the charred remains of men, paralyzed in their death throes, twisted on the ground, Wufan pads silently through it all and pisses on them. I hate you all.
The moon is half obscured by the clouds, a sure sign the Dragon King is about to gift the city with precious rain. This summer has been humid, the air filled with the smell of sweat as clothes stick to people’s bodies as they carry on with life. Crickets chirp as a night-owl hoots and Luhan shudders at the thought of them eating their own mothers. Rumours, his brain tells him, mere superstition. No such thing as demonic birds. Or demons for that matter. Half-heartedly he curses Yixing for telling him all sorts of fantastical tales as they sat inside the other boy’s medicine shop, flicking dried cow dung at Xiumin. Inside the compound he can hear his father talking to some of the other ministers as the servants hurry to keep their wine glasses filled. His mother will probably have retired to her chambers by now, perhaps practicing her embroidery or brewing herbal tea for his father. Perfect time to sneak outside. Tip-toeing, pulling up the edges of his silk pants he keeps his back facing the wall before he reaches the part that dips down, next to the stream that flows in from the woods behind. The brick comes out easily, slick with mud, and Luhan removes the next few before pushing out his stolen stash of today’s roast duck and some leftover goose gizzards Yixing had dug up. Looking up at the moon he smiles, black hair giving off a light shine in the light. Soon, he would become a man. The day of the Imperial Exam was drawing near (although honestly he’d prefer to be out doing wushu with Hangeng) as was his turn to go on the night hunt that signified a boy becoming a man.
Light fingers push the bundle through and he manages to squeeze enough of his torso out so he’s lying flat-out on the grass, arranging the food nicely, piling rocks around to protect it from the wind.
“Luhan? Luhan, where are you?” his mother’s voice is like a nightingale in the still night, sweet and clear.
Luhan balks, and scrambles back through, re-arranging the bricks hastily before he runs as quietly as possible back to his quarters, hopping over the open window sill. Mud stains his pants and he quickly throws them off, shoving them beneath his bed and after a beat, sheds his outer shirt too, so that when his mother enters he’s clad in only his white undershirt. Her silk skirts swish as she glides towards him. With surprise, and a feeling that is somewhat like shame, he notices the crows-feet that have started gathering at the sides of her eyes. Nonetheless, she is still the most beautiful woman in the city, to him and his siblings at least.
“My poor son, you’re covered in sweat,” she clucks, calling out for the servants to bring a wash cloth.
“I was just practicing my form, training my body for the hunt,” he says, smiling sheepishly.
One painted eyebrow is raised and she steps back as Luhan takes the cloth from the manservant and wipes his face and chest down.
“How is Hangeng-ge and jiejie?” Luhan grimaces at the thought of being stuck in father’s boring meetings about state and the community. As eldest son, Hangeng was saddled with responsibility that he carried with as weary a face (in private) as the one he wore whenever Luhan and Yixing were together.
“Your brother is a saint,” says his mother, clearly reading his thoughts, “And our beautiful Songqian is supposed to be practicing her embroidery though I’m sure she’s with her favourite maid, Yiyun, gossiping about the supposed beast in the fields.”
Luhan’s ears perk up.
“Beast?”
His mother sighs, one hand coming up to flatten his wayward hair, the other placed neatly on her lap. In the summer heat, the cedar smell of his bed is even more evident. Around them, the servants light more candles and at a nod from his mother, burn some incense in the small alter above his study table.
“That’s why your father and Hangeng are still cooped up in the pavilion. There have been a few attacks recently on livestock on the outskirts of town… And near the woods.” She gives him an even look that Luhan matches with a wide-eyed stare. It’s something he’s perfected over these past seventeen years, with a guaranteed success rate on everyone and everything. His chest swells a little with pride-he could even charm a dragon if he tried.
“I gave birth to you,” his mother says, “That trick won’t work on me.”
His pride deflates at the speed at which Xiumin eats noodles. Instantly.
“So… For my coming of age ceremony…”
“You will still be allowed to hunt wherever you please; I’m sure it’s just a lone fox. No wolves-we haven’t heard any howls-and there have been no tiger tracks in months since your brother killed the last one.”
Luhan remembers that like it was yesterday, his brother being held up by soldiers on a palanquin as the tiger’s skin adorned his back, black and orange stripes glaring at the cheering crowd. That was 6 years ago, at his own coming of age hunt, the triumphant son of a minister returning a man. No matter how jealous Luhan may have felt, the overwhelming love and admiration that he felt overrode such petty emotions. Hangeng was Luhan’s idol, the perfect filial son and at some point, a filial husband. While Luhan’s body was lithe and fair, Hangeng was all lean muscle and tanned from dedicated wushu practice in the courtyard and barracks with the other soldiers. While their father had long given up the sword in favour of the much more comfortable position in government, Hangeng was a Captain in the Imperial Army and an important aide for their father. He was also the main test subject of all Luhan’s (sometimes in collaboration with Yixing) pranks, which were later distributed to the greater public-namely Xiumin and Chen… Mostly Xiumin though.
“Anyway,” his mother continues, breaking his happy train of thought, “Just be careful. I don’t want the spirits to snatch my handsome son away.”
Luhan laughs indulgently, clasping her hands tight as she moves towards the door.
“I’m too smart to be spirited away,” he says, “Nothing gets past me.”
Outside her maid waits with a lantern, the corridors lit with flickering candlelight. His mother smiles and with the shadows masking parts of her face Luhan sees the charming girl his father fell in love with and caused him to declare ‘一见钟情’,’love at first sight’. Her teeth gleam white against her rouge-painted lips.
“Oh? Maybe next time my son; you won’t leave pieces of duck hanging on your shirts. Your friends probably need all the meat they can get.” Luhan looks down to see a few strands of the duck peeking out from his undershirt, and by the time he looks back up, the doorway is empty and the light grows faint until it finally disappears, a pool of moonlight left in its wake.
When he checks the next morning, at dawn before anyone could possibly be up (apart from the servants), the food is gone and he grins. Not even the bones are left nor a trace of the animal (or animals) that ate them.
危 楼 高 百 尺
The high tower is a hundred feet tall,
手 nbsp; 可 摘 nbsp; 星 nbsp; 辰
From here one’s hand could pluck the stars.
不 敢 高 声 nbsp; 语
I do not dare to speak in a loud voice,
恐 nbsp; 惊 nbsp; 天 nbsp; 上 nbsp; 人
I fear to disturb the people in heaven.
-Li Bai, Staying the night at a mountain temple,夜 宿 山 nbsp; 寺
Wufan watches the two boys run helter skelter through the woods, feet kicking up dead leaves and dirt. A pheasant squawks its disapproval as it hurries out of the way as one of the boys tackles the other to the ground where they wrestle, the one on top trying to shove mud down the other’s pants. The one below, slightly smaller than the other boy and thinner too, uses his knees to kick the other off and pounces, one hand already pushing the wet clump down his cotton drawstring pants. The other screeches, an ungodly sound that makes his ears flatten against his head, and retaliates by giving him a mouthful of mud (and Wufan sees the earthworm in there too).
When they both lie, panting in the shade, giggling over their muddy faces and linked hands, Wufan turns away. As Yixing’s eyes glaze over in sleep beside him, one hand on top of his, Luhan thinks he sees a flash of red disappear into the bushes above and he smiles. Still here eh?
When they traipse back into town, Yixing’s basket filled with medicinal herbs and ornamental flowers - You’re such a girl, says Luhan and Yixing grins, all teeth. Who’s the one always called pretty though?-and Luhan’s basket filled with love frogs, a parade of soldiers march past, sweating beneath the metal but keeping in strict formation as the first outriders break away from the rest.
“Ge!” calls Luhan, waving his hand as Hangeng pulls his stallion to a halt before them.
Hangeng shakes his head at the desperate croaks coming out from his little brother’s basket and offers a gentle smile to Yixing, who only seems to be active when he’s with Luhan.
“Tormenting poor Xiumin are we?” Luhan pauses for a second, before nodding. Hangeng ruffles his hair affectionately and Luhan makes a noise of protest before Kuixian, his brother’s stallion, spits at him. Luhan never liked the horse anyway.
“Where are you going Ge? You’re supposed to help me practicing my archery.”
Hangeng’s heart quivers at his brother’s pout and he quickly looks at the blank face of the other boy, who stands still, unmoving (as usual). Sometimes he wonders whether the spirits sucked out most of Yixing’s energy when he was a child.
“Lei, keep him out of mischief ah,” Yixing’s eyes crinkle at the nickname, “And Luhan, don’t go out to the woods for a while ok? Songqian is fretting needlessly about this supposed beast that’s attacking the cattle and I don’t want you wandering off on another adventure giving her cause to worry. “
“What beast is it? A bear? Tiger?”
Hangeng looks hesitant, but the bottom of Luhan’s lip starts to tremble and he spills.
“Look, don’t tell Songqian or mother about this ok? I don’t need more hysterics… Recently something has been attacking the cattle. Mauling them, tearing their bodies apart and leaving them scattered so the corpses are torn remains… The weird thing is there are no animal prints for us to track. We don’t even know what this thing is-don’t start getting ideas for your hunt! The farmers are up in arms talking about some sort of ghost, or spirit.”
Luhan listens in rapt attention. The thought of killing another tiger and succeeding his brother in the hunt fills his mind, a chance to prove his manliness and show he is worthy of being called a man. Hangeng stares after the soldiers, mind drifting.
“I think it’s a fox spirit. 狐狸精.” The grip on his sword tightens and Luhan feels his breath stop for a second, mind processing what his brother just said.
“But… They don’t exist.”
A shadow crosses his brother’s face and he closes his eyes as he says the next sentence.
“All the cattle… Their hearts were missing. We all know fox spirits need the hearts of living things-preferably human-to survive. All the bodies were torn apart but the thing missing from all was the heart.”
Yixing throws up.
A/N: Listening to DBSK's 'Beautiful Thing' by the lovely Xiah Junsu also helped inspire this multi-chaptered fic. Poems and the title are by Tang Dynasty poet, Li Bai. Most of the information about fox spirits/ Hu Li Jing are based on Chinese mythology with a little bit of Japanese kitsune thrown in and some gumiho for good measure. I swear Kris is already a sex god so who am I kidding?
Character names: Songqian = Victoria, Yiyun= Amber, Kuixian= Kyuhyun, Hangeng = Hankyung
Author clubotaku
Pairing: Kris/Luhan with minor Sehun/Luhan, Lay/Luhan
Characters: EXO-M with mentions of Hangeng, Victoria and others
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance, Supernatural, Historical Au!
Summary: After 500 years of collecting hearts, a fox spirit will be able to go to Heaven. Partly inspired by
http://deerwithdragon.tumblr.com/post/26687914574/photos-are-not-mine-credit-to-the-rightful-owner
众鸟高飞尽
A flock of birds is flying high in the distance,
孤云独去闲
A lonely cloud drifts idly on its own.
相看两不厌
We gaze at each other, neither growing tired,
只有敬亭山
There is only Jingting Shan.
-Li Bai李白, Sitting Alone on Jingting Hill独坐敬亭山
The village burns, burns, smoke choking the life out of people. Wufan watches them scream as the flames lick their bodies, watches them gurgle and choke, weapons useless as they try to save their worthless skins. Human flesh, he has discovered, smells somewhat like pig flesh but without that strong scent that pervades game meat. Something flickers in him, something old, human, but the feeling passes and he continues to sit on the hill, watching. He can feel the heavy weight of the stare his compatriot is giving him, but the other does not budge and remains sitting, watching Wufan watch people die. When there’s nothing but ash and the charred remains of men, paralyzed in their death throes, twisted on the ground, Wufan pads silently through it all and pisses on them. I hate you all.
The moon is half obscured by the clouds, a sure sign the Dragon King is about to gift the city with precious rain. This summer has been humid, the air filled with the smell of sweat as clothes stick to people’s bodies as they carry on with life. Crickets chirp as a night-owl hoots and Luhan shudders at the thought of them eating their own mothers. Rumours, his brain tells him, mere superstition. No such thing as demonic birds. Or demons for that matter. Half-heartedly he curses Yixing for telling him all sorts of fantastical tales as they sat inside the other boy’s medicine shop, flicking dried cow dung at Xiumin. Inside the compound he can hear his father talking to some of the other ministers as the servants hurry to keep their wine glasses filled. His mother will probably have retired to her chambers by now, perhaps practicing her embroidery or brewing herbal tea for his father. Perfect time to sneak outside. Tip-toeing, pulling up the edges of his silk pants he keeps his back facing the wall before he reaches the part that dips down, next to the stream that flows in from the woods behind. The brick comes out easily, slick with mud, and Luhan removes the next few before pushing out his stolen stash of today’s roast duck and some leftover goose gizzards Yixing had dug up. Looking up at the moon he smiles, black hair giving off a light shine in the light. Soon, he would become a man. The day of the Imperial Exam was drawing near (although honestly he’d prefer to be out doing wushu with Hangeng) as was his turn to go on the night hunt that signified a boy becoming a man.
Light fingers push the bundle through and he manages to squeeze enough of his torso out so he’s lying flat-out on the grass, arranging the food nicely, piling rocks around to protect it from the wind.
“Luhan? Luhan, where are you?” his mother’s voice is like a nightingale in the still night, sweet and clear.
Luhan balks, and scrambles back through, re-arranging the bricks hastily before he runs as quietly as possible back to his quarters, hopping over the open window sill. Mud stains his pants and he quickly throws them off, shoving them beneath his bed and after a beat, sheds his outer shirt too, so that when his mother enters he’s clad in only his white undershirt. Her silk skirts swish as she glides towards him. With surprise, and a feeling that is somewhat like shame, he notices the crows-feet that have started gathering at the sides of her eyes. Nonetheless, she is still the most beautiful woman in the city, to him and his siblings at least.
“My poor son, you’re covered in sweat,” she clucks, calling out for the servants to bring a wash cloth.
“I was just practicing my form, training my body for the hunt,” he says, smiling sheepishly.
One painted eyebrow is raised and she steps back as Luhan takes the cloth from the manservant and wipes his face and chest down.
“How is Hangeng-ge and jiejie?” Luhan grimaces at the thought of being stuck in father’s boring meetings about state and the community. As eldest son, Hangeng was saddled with responsibility that he carried with as weary a face (in private) as the one he wore whenever Luhan and Yixing were together.
“Your brother is a saint,” says his mother, clearly reading his thoughts, “And our beautiful Songqian is supposed to be practicing her embroidery though I’m sure she’s with her favourite maid, Yiyun, gossiping about the supposed beast in the fields.”
Luhan’s ears perk up.
“Beast?”
His mother sighs, one hand coming up to flatten his wayward hair, the other placed neatly on her lap. In the summer heat, the cedar smell of his bed is even more evident. Around them, the servants light more candles and at a nod from his mother, burn some incense in the small alter above his study table.
“That’s why your father and Hangeng are still cooped up in the pavilion. There have been a few attacks recently on livestock on the outskirts of town… And near the woods.” She gives him an even look that Luhan matches with a wide-eyed stare. It’s something he’s perfected over these past seventeen years, with a guaranteed success rate on everyone and everything. His chest swells a little with pride-he could even charm a dragon if he tried.
“I gave birth to you,” his mother says, “That trick won’t work on me.”
His pride deflates at the speed at which Xiumin eats noodles. Instantly.
“So… For my coming of age ceremony…”
“You will still be allowed to hunt wherever you please; I’m sure it’s just a lone fox. No wolves-we haven’t heard any howls-and there have been no tiger tracks in months since your brother killed the last one.”
Luhan remembers that like it was yesterday, his brother being held up by soldiers on a palanquin as the tiger’s skin adorned his back, black and orange stripes glaring at the cheering crowd. That was 6 years ago, at his own coming of age hunt, the triumphant son of a minister returning a man. No matter how jealous Luhan may have felt, the overwhelming love and admiration that he felt overrode such petty emotions. Hangeng was Luhan’s idol, the perfect filial son and at some point, a filial husband. While Luhan’s body was lithe and fair, Hangeng was all lean muscle and tanned from dedicated wushu practice in the courtyard and barracks with the other soldiers. While their father had long given up the sword in favour of the much more comfortable position in government, Hangeng was a Captain in the Imperial Army and an important aide for their father. He was also the main test subject of all Luhan’s (sometimes in collaboration with Yixing) pranks, which were later distributed to the greater public-namely Xiumin and Chen… Mostly Xiumin though.
“Anyway,” his mother continues, breaking his happy train of thought, “Just be careful. I don’t want the spirits to snatch my handsome son away.”
Luhan laughs indulgently, clasping her hands tight as she moves towards the door.
“I’m too smart to be spirited away,” he says, “Nothing gets past me.”
Outside her maid waits with a lantern, the corridors lit with flickering candlelight. His mother smiles and with the shadows masking parts of her face Luhan sees the charming girl his father fell in love with and caused him to declare ‘一见钟情’,’love at first sight’. Her teeth gleam white against her rouge-painted lips.
“Oh? Maybe next time my son; you won’t leave pieces of duck hanging on your shirts. Your friends probably need all the meat they can get.” Luhan looks down to see a few strands of the duck peeking out from his undershirt, and by the time he looks back up, the doorway is empty and the light grows faint until it finally disappears, a pool of moonlight left in its wake.
When he checks the next morning, at dawn before anyone could possibly be up (apart from the servants), the food is gone and he grins. Not even the bones are left nor a trace of the animal (or animals) that ate them.
危 楼 高 百 尺
The high tower is a hundred feet tall,
手 nbsp; 可 摘 nbsp; 星 nbsp; 辰
From here one’s hand could pluck the stars.
不 敢 高 声 nbsp; 语
I do not dare to speak in a loud voice,
恐 nbsp; 惊 nbsp; 天 nbsp; 上 nbsp; 人
I fear to disturb the people in heaven.
-Li Bai, Staying the night at a mountain temple,夜 宿 山 nbsp; 寺
Wufan watches the two boys run helter skelter through the woods, feet kicking up dead leaves and dirt. A pheasant squawks its disapproval as it hurries out of the way as one of the boys tackles the other to the ground where they wrestle, the one on top trying to shove mud down the other’s pants. The one below, slightly smaller than the other boy and thinner too, uses his knees to kick the other off and pounces, one hand already pushing the wet clump down his cotton drawstring pants. The other screeches, an ungodly sound that makes his ears flatten against his head, and retaliates by giving him a mouthful of mud (and Wufan sees the earthworm in there too).
When they both lie, panting in the shade, giggling over their muddy faces and linked hands, Wufan turns away. As Yixing’s eyes glaze over in sleep beside him, one hand on top of his, Luhan thinks he sees a flash of red disappear into the bushes above and he smiles. Still here eh?
When they traipse back into town, Yixing’s basket filled with medicinal herbs and ornamental flowers - You’re such a girl, says Luhan and Yixing grins, all teeth. Who’s the one always called pretty though?-and Luhan’s basket filled with love frogs, a parade of soldiers march past, sweating beneath the metal but keeping in strict formation as the first outriders break away from the rest.
“Ge!” calls Luhan, waving his hand as Hangeng pulls his stallion to a halt before them.
Hangeng shakes his head at the desperate croaks coming out from his little brother’s basket and offers a gentle smile to Yixing, who only seems to be active when he’s with Luhan.
“Tormenting poor Xiumin are we?” Luhan pauses for a second, before nodding. Hangeng ruffles his hair affectionately and Luhan makes a noise of protest before Kuixian, his brother’s stallion, spits at him. Luhan never liked the horse anyway.
“Where are you going Ge? You’re supposed to help me practicing my archery.”
Hangeng’s heart quivers at his brother’s pout and he quickly looks at the blank face of the other boy, who stands still, unmoving (as usual). Sometimes he wonders whether the spirits sucked out most of Yixing’s energy when he was a child.
“Lei, keep him out of mischief ah,” Yixing’s eyes crinkle at the nickname, “And Luhan, don’t go out to the woods for a while ok? Songqian is fretting needlessly about this supposed beast that’s attacking the cattle and I don’t want you wandering off on another adventure giving her cause to worry. “
“What beast is it? A bear? Tiger?”
Hangeng looks hesitant, but the bottom of Luhan’s lip starts to tremble and he spills.
“Look, don’t tell Songqian or mother about this ok? I don’t need more hysterics… Recently something has been attacking the cattle. Mauling them, tearing their bodies apart and leaving them scattered so the corpses are torn remains… The weird thing is there are no animal prints for us to track. We don’t even know what this thing is-don’t start getting ideas for your hunt! The farmers are up in arms talking about some sort of ghost, or spirit.”
Luhan listens in rapt attention. The thought of killing another tiger and succeeding his brother in the hunt fills his mind, a chance to prove his manliness and show he is worthy of being called a man. Hangeng stares after the soldiers, mind drifting.
“I think it’s a fox spirit. 狐狸精.” The grip on his sword tightens and Luhan feels his breath stop for a second, mind processing what his brother just said.
“But… They don’t exist.”
A shadow crosses his brother’s face and he closes his eyes as he says the next sentence.
“All the cattle… Their hearts were missing. We all know fox spirits need the hearts of living things-preferably human-to survive. All the bodies were torn apart but the thing missing from all was the heart.”
Yixing throws up.
A/N: Listening to DBSK's 'Beautiful Thing' by the lovely Xiah Junsu also helped inspire this multi-chaptered fic. Poems and the title are by Tang Dynasty poet, Li Bai. Most of the information about fox spirits/ Hu Li Jing are based on Chinese mythology with a little bit of Japanese kitsune thrown in and some gumiho for good measure. I swear Kris is already a sex god so who am I kidding?
Character names: Songqian = Victoria, Yiyun= Amber, Kuixian= Kyuhyun, Hangeng = Hankyung