500 years of solitude [7/?]
Title: 500 years of solitude [7/?]
Author: clubotaku
Pairing: Kris/Luhan with minor Sehun/Luhan, Lay/Luhan
Characters: EXO-M with mentions of Hangeng, Victoria and others
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance, Supernatural, Historical Au!
Previous chapters: http://clubotaku.livejournal.com/17349.html, http://clubotaku.livejournal.com/17488.html, http://clubotaku.livejournal.com/18586.html, http://clubotaku.livejournal.com/19031.html, http://clubotaku.livejournal.com/19759.html, http://clubotaku.livejournal.com/20113.html
Summary: After 500 years of collecting hearts, a fox spirit will be able to go to Heaven
A/N: A longer chapter than expected. Enjoy!
床前明月光
My bedroom floor flooded with moonlight,
疑是地上霜
I thought it was frost, but not quite
舉頭望明月
Lifting my sight, I see the moon shining bright.
低頭思故鄉
Dipping my head, I brood: How would my home-village be tonight?
Li Bai 李 白- Night Thoughts 靜 夜 思
Wufan sits on top of the hill, chewing the remnants of a roast duck slowly, the rich flavor of the sauce combined with the juicy meat causing him to sigh happily. Luhan had been on time tonight, obviously preparing for tonight’s practice with his friends in the audience. His friends… Wufan wanted to laugh at the flimsy protection the little apprentice had tried to put along with those useless paper talismans. The circle could keep a lesser spirit out but not him… No, it had been too long, far too long for the time he may have been stopped by something like that. However he had noticed the way the apprentice… Chan or Chen, whatever in the Jade Emperor’s name his name was, had clutched his head as he entered. The fear emanating from him and that chubby one who looked like a mantou, Xiumin… It was so delicious. Xiumin was enough to feed him for a day and a half judging by his pudgy cheeks, no doubt helped by the very buns he created. The fox in him wanted to rip him in half and suck the marrow from his bones… No! Wufan snarled at the air, he would not succumb to his desires like that. I have control. I have had time… So much time… Too much time. Frustrated, he crushes the bones, not bothering with the marrow, and releases it into the wind. Luhan has packed some pickled vegetables - really? Had Luhan really not guessed his nightly ‘pet’ was a carnivore? - which were smelly, but edible. Even in his past life he had not been a fan of pickled cucumbers soaked in blasted, stinky vinegar but he was hungry, and this would do to stop his hunger. For now. Or we could just eat Luhan… The very smell of him… Wufan shakes the thought away, lip curling in disgust. The vegetables are swallowed in one go, his canines protruding as he bears the acidity. So hungy. Ears emerge, twitching as his face elongates and his body crouches on all fours. A twig snaps-a rabbit freezes somewhere behind him, the fox, having smelt the scent of a predator that was invisible before. It is over in a second, the blood a mockery of the circle Chen had attempted earlier, a ring around the broken body. Wufan pauses for a second, inhales, then his claws shoot towards the chest, still warm, and sink into and through until he feels his prize throbbing dully. The heart, still beating. The fox licks its lips and swallows.
Later, Wufan sits in a clearing in the forest, silent apart from the wind and the rustling of the trees. Here he is alone, all animals have fled from him once his scent entered the area; here he is alone, save from his thoughts and the damning sky, always watching. The stars are emerging, some constellations burning brighter than others, watching, waiting. He curses the Gods, the spirits, everyone, letting out a harsh bark before his claws erupt, slashing trees left and right.
Control yourself
“I am in control!” he screams at nobody, at himself.
Somewhere in his mind it clicks that he needs to leave soon, that Luhan will be on his way to the barracks now. I can make it, he thinks, for a fox spirit like him something like that is child’s play, I can make in a second. Luhan…
Control yourself Wufan
“I AM!”
Blue fire latches onto the trees and scorches the grass until the earth sears with heat, the fox spirit slashing the earth wildly, punching tree trunks in rapid succession, watching as the centuries old beings topple before him. The night sky creeps onwards, erasing the red of the sun and smothering light, all light apart from the moon and the stars, those cursed stars.
He waits for the sky to speak but nothing comes and he is left there alone in the barren and burnt land of his making, his claws tipped rust brown from the burnt rabbits’ blood, his eyes blazing.
Control yourself
He walks, the claws disappear and the pointed ears recede until a human man is all that’s left. The lights of the barracks near and down to his left on the road that leads from the city to the army camp he can see Luhan laughing with his friends, Luhan, so young and happy and carefree. The pang of envy hits him but he composes himself, rearranges his face into its usual stoic mask. Watch me, he thinks, watch and wait for me.
Xiumin has to be honest - he’s terrified of Wufan. The man puts him on edge, every movement sharp and feline. He doesn’t know how Luhan stands it really, the constant staring, and the sense that he’s watching you even when his eyes are elsewhere. Chen is scared too though he won’t say it, but Xiumin knows he’s snuck a talisman beneath his robe (he noticed the fresh paint on his fingers) despite the jokes he’s currently cracking about Luhan’s prowess with the bow. There’s nothing that should scare him really, apart from Wufan’s unusually tall height, but this sense. Sehun would scoff and roll his eyes, would say how Ge is being a baby again, and yes, Xiumin thinks, yes he is a scaredy-cat and the least brave of the group (he has yet to determine whether Yixing is brave or just oblivious) but his gut feeling tells him Wufan is dangerous.
“Aiyah, he’s a hunter-he’s used to being by himself in the wild!” Luhan didn’t seem to care much, “Though he is a little bit of a stick-in-the-mud… So many drills… Thought my fingers might crack from overuse.”
“Nightly use?” Chen had asked, useless as ever. Xiumin wanted to hit him with a steamed bun.
“Luhan moves around a lot in his sleep,” Yixing had said, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
Sehun looked like someone shot his horse; Luhan flushed red and flapped his hands uselessly and the conversation had gone downhill from there (no thanks to Chen) until he had managed to steer them back to the more mundane topic of politics.
Now Wufan is barking orders at Luhan, who has shot quiver after quiver, most landing on the outer rings (or the floor) but a few are breaking into the inner circles. Yixing has wandered off to prepare a drink for Luhan and Sehun is alternating between praising Luhan when he hits the target and cursing his ‘slave master of a common wanderer’ when he misses.
“Sehun-ah, you shouldn’t talk like that,” chides Xiumin, “The common people may get offended.”
“I speak to the supernatural, don’t include me in this,” said Chen and Xiumin really did hit him.
Sehun looks at the ground, sheepish and Xiumin ruffles his hair affectionately.
“Sorry Ge… I just get worked up when this… Person is ordering Luhan-ge around. He puts me on edge.”
“Me too Sehun-ah, me too.”
“Maybe a little wine will loosen him up,” says Chen, “Male bonding time after this.”
Sehun grimaces and smoothens a stray lock of hair back into position, adjusts his stiff dress robes.
“We’re not sleeping together are we? I don’t like being confined in small places, let alone the dirty army tents. Oh God, are we supposed to sleep on the floor? Are there enough cots? I’m sensitive to dirt… I heard the barracks are infested with fleas! Mother told me -”
“You’re sleeping in the tent next to mine on a cot Sehun-ah,” says Luhan, draping an arm around the younger boy who breaks into a wide smile, immediately wrapping his arm around his waist.
“What about us?” asks Xiumin, hoping there are still spare cots.
“You guys are all in the same tent with Sehun, don’t worry.”
“And Yixing?”
Sehun looks at Luhan who bites his lip, before giving a bright smile as Yixing returns bearing a steaming cup.
“Yixing has a cot in my tent.”
Sehun’s eyes lose their shine and he turns to stare at Yixing who is ignorant, calmly blowing on the brew before handing it to Luhan.
“Yixing is sleeping with you all.”
Their eyes turn to the speaker, to Wufan who sits atop the fence across from them. The wooden fence does not inspire confidence in Xiumin at all, not from the lazy way the other man is draped on it. Nobody says anything, Yixing looking at Luhan and Luhan looking back. Sehun’s eyes watch them while Chen and Xiumin watch him watch them.
“Why? Yixing usually stays with me because I need night draughts… I get restless.”
Wufan looks bored.
“He sleeps with the others. If you have a problem with that you can talk to your brother.”
The words die in Luhan’s throat and Yixing squeezes his hands, whispers,“I’ll be right next door, I can sneak in if -”
“And no sneaking into each other’s tents.”
Sehun looks at Wufan with begrudged appreciation; Luhan’s face twitches as he stares the taller man down, Yixing squeezing his hand comfortingly.
“But”
“You will be alone in the wild. Get used to it my Lord.”
“Are you mocking him?” Sehun’s voice is hard, “You dare mock Lord Lu’s son?”
“Sehun-ah, it’s ok, I -”
“I dare,” replies the other, “Because my job is to teach him not coddle him like some newborn calf.”
“Well if you don’t do your job properly and Luhan-ge gets hurt I will make sure you are punished, and publicly at that!”
Wufan laughs, a harsh sound that has Xiumin wince and the normally impassive Yixing turns his head away from it. He barely blinks and there, Wufan towers above Sehun who does an impressive job of staring haughtily back as if the right to breathe oxygen was his.
“Punish me if you can Oh Sehun. That is, if a spoilt, immature piece of child meat like you could even fight and catch me. A hundred years of experience may not even help you.”
“What did you call me?” Sehun’s voice is rising, growing even more agitated as he tries to maintain superiority, even as he stares up at the hunter.
“Sehun-ah, please-”
“Ge this filthy commoner should be punished!”
“Sehun-ah, please!” The note of pleading in Luhan’s voice stops Sehun from hurling abuse at Wufan, who smirks. Luhan shoots him a glare and his face turns blank.
“Sehun-ah… You know he’s an excellent archer. Better than Ge-even Hangeng-ge says so! I didn’t want to believe it either… But I’ve improved Sehun, you can see it too right? I haven’t even been training with him that long and he’s managed to get me closer to the bulls eye.”
“You always had the inherent ability, I knew you did Ge!” Sehun’s voice is rising in pitch.
“You and I both know I was lousy… Now I have improved. If I continue I will be ready for the Ceremony.”
“Something your supposed help could not do,” says Wufan, voice smug, “I guess commoners have their use after all.”
“I swear by Heaven, if something happens to Luhan, if you dare touch him I will kill you. Shoot you myself.”
“When father dearest lets you off your leash let me know. Luhan doesn’t need to handle a puppy, that’s child’s play.”
Sehun growls but Luhan holds him still, eyes begging him to calm down. He softens, but just slightly.
“Ge,” Sehun looks straight at Luhan, “I don’t like him nor do I trust him.”
Yixing, Chen and Xiumin all turn to their friend, faces showing they feel the same. Luhan is silent, stares at the ornate jade hanging around Sehun’s neck. Wufan watches, waits.
“Ge.”
Now Sehun is the one pleading and inwardly Wufan lights up at the desperation in his voice.
“Sehun-ah,” Luhan breathes, before enveloping the younger boy in a hug, “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”
“They don’t and I don’t trust him at all...” Sehun’s voice trails off.
“I do though. I trust him.”
Sehun’s face turns that of shock, unable to hide his surprise; Yixing’s eyes widen and Chen fidgets nervously. Xiumin gapes, looking back and forth from Luhan to Wufan who is staring at the sky. Slowly his almond-shaped eyes lower themselves to face Luhan, still hugging Sehun but eyes focused on the other, resolute. He doesn’t smile and when he speaks his voice takes a while to come out, soft but determined.
“I trust him.”
Later, after Wufan has deemed practice to be over and Luhan looks sufficiently drained, they sit around the fire, warming their hands and bodies. The autumn wind is a grave forbearer of the winter to come and Xiumin shivers, trying to bury himself further in his blanket. The cotton coat he wears on top of his normal baking robes gives little warmth, and the woven shoes are useless against the wind as it seeps through the worn out threads. Chen is somewhere beneath the mound of hay that was supposed to be for the horses feeding, half his body hidden, the colourful cloak poking through the yellow. Sehun and Luhan are swathed in fur, both wearing finely trimmed cloaks and boots. They look a little like twins in their tan outfits and large furry hats, Sehun mirroring Luhan as they laugh. Yixing is half-asleep on Luhan’s other side, half his body beneath Luhan’s cloak and the other in his own woven jacket, little bits and pieces of herbs and leaves sticking out. Luhan catches Xiumin shivering and grins.
“Feeling a little frozen there Baozi?”
Xiumin sighs.
“Frozen bao… No good to eat,” mumbles Yixing, shifting closer to Luhan.
The haystack that is Chen giggles.
“Here,” says Luhan, “You have this. You do feed me from time to time.” He grins, giving a thumbs up as Xiumin blinks from under the heavy cloak Luhan has covered him in, lets out a happy sound as he burrows in the warmth.
“Won’t you be cold?” He looks at his friend, worried. Luhan isn’t that built, some could say slender, isn’t that immune to sickness or harsh weather. The weather has not dropped below freezing yet but it could still cause illness.
Sehun stands up, opens his coat, intending to offer it to share but Wufan beats him to it, dropping his own black cloak on Luhan’s head.
“Have it, the fire is enough for me.”
He grabs a bundle of hay from Chen’s current shelter and throws it on the fire which burns brighter, warmer; sits down close enough that the red and yellow shows on his face but not close enough to be burnt.
“Thanks,” says Luhan, “Are you sure you don’t-”
Wufan gives a small shake of his head then returns to staring at the fire. Luhan sits back down between Sehun and Yixing, the darkness of the cloak swallowing him until his fair hands and face are all the show, his black hair blending in apart from the gold of his top knot. Yixing shuffles closer, closes his eyes. Sehun seems to be trying to cover the cloak with his own tan one, is mumbling something about ‘dirt’ and ‘parasites’ but Xiumin can’t quite hear him, though he doesn’t really need to. Sehun has made no effort to hide his hatred of the hunter and Luhan has spent the evening placating and distracting him while Wufan has spent the same time staring stonily back whenever they make eye contact-Sehun’s lip curling back before Luhan changes the subject or diverts his attention.
Silence falls around the fire; around them the barracks are quiet with most of the soldiers asleep or patrolling. Hangeng hasn’t been seen all evening and Xiumin can tell Luhan’s cheerfulness has diminished since they arrived, especially when Wufan had told him Hangeng’s orders about the sleeping arrangements. He studies the trio huddled together on the other side of the fire, forehead crinkling as he sees the way Sehun idolizes Luhan and the familiar way Luhan and Yixing’s bodies curl towards each other. If, Xiumin thinks, if their affections do turn towards each other, in that way, what can they do? What would I do? He has heard in the old stories and even now, of how men turn to each other for comfort but never permanently. They marry; have concubines and many children to continue the family line. Luhan and Sehun certainly will be married off to some politically advantageous families, to daughters of similar upbringing and breeding. Unlike him, having stopped education since entering his teens and relying on lessons here and there from Luhan and Sehun, or eavesdropping on the school nearby. Luhan and Yixing… How long has it been since Yixing started sleeping at his? Since they were children, before Sehun came along and before Chen arrived, Yixing has clung onto Luhan. They were like vines, gripping tightly onto each other for support on a particularly tall tree, their tendrils intertwined and reaching for the unknown end. Luhan has kissed many girls; Yixing none.
His mind flashes back to that awkward moment here, when he glimpsed Yixing kissing Luhan to ‘feed’ him his medicine just as he stepped aside to let Hangeng in. Xiumin hadn’t felt disgust, couldn’t bring himself to feel that emotion, not when two people he knew very well were involved. At first he’d brushed it off as a joke-Yixing and Luhan were always doing stupid bets-but afterwards, when he was alone he had thought about their closeness, the way they seemed to understand each other without words. The way Yixing’s fingers lingered or his constant need to see Luhan at the slightest sign of illness. Chen had once had a whooping cough and Yixing had taken nearly two hours to get from his house to Chen’s when it would usually take half an hour. It didn’t seem like Luhan liked men as such, or at least it didn’t seem he got that look in his eye the way Yixing did when Luhan wasn’t looking. He had to admit though, their closeness was unnatural for men; if he and Chen were that close… Ergh. Give me a girl any day…
Sehun was idol-worship mixed with brotherly love and probably that love wives gave to their husbands. Devotion. He was just as touchy as Yixing but in a more obvious way; Yixing hid his affection or gave it subtly while others were around but Sehun had practically declared his stake on Luhan since the elder had broken down his barriers those years ago. Xiumin thinks and remembers how the first words the Joseon boy ever spoke were Luhan’s name. Is Luhan? Are any of them? If people were to find out… He closes his eyes. If it were true… If people knew, Luhan and Sehun could be disowned or forced into marriage early. Yixing would be shunned. People who were different did not fare well in this world. His eyes flick to the half-hidden body of Yixing, asleep against Luhan. In the light of the fire he sees their fingers turned around each other, even as Sehun grips Luhan’s other arm whispering about something that makes the elder boy shake with suppressed mirth. Maybe it’s his lack of education in the Confucian classics that makes him more accepting of what he’s sure is happening. Maybe it’s because he’s used to seeing this affection after growing up together and he’s grown used to it.
No matter what, thinks Xiumin, I’ll still make buns for them. I don’t care if their jade staff is different.
Chen’s voice breaks his thoughts.
“Well… This is a little boring. And cold. Mostly cold.”
Sehun gives him his favourite look of disdain.
“Then go sleep and stop hiding in a haystack you quack.”
Chen looks offended, or at least, what little he can see of him does.
“I meant we could talk about something or tell stories instead of sitting in silence.”
“Stories?” Yixing rubs his eyes.
“Yeah… Ghost stories, love stories, anything! I don’t feel like sleeping just yet…”
Xiumin knows this is a lie from the dark circles the apprentice has had since this morning.
“I know one!” says Luhan happily, “I heard it from Songqian-jie.”
“What’s it about Ge?” asks Sehun, not that the answer really matters to him.
“It’s a ghost story!” Luhan claps his hands in glee.
Chen’s face falls and Xiumin can’t help but laugh at the irony, an apprentice Shaman afraid of the afterlife. Chen emerges from his haystack, brandishing two bottles of something. The bottles are filled with liquid the colour of Kuixian’s hooves and Sehun gags at the sight of a lizard floating inside one of them.
“I’m not drinking that.”
“Ghost stories need drinks! We’re all almost men anyway… Well, except for you Sehun, you’re just an overgrown baby.”
Sehun pelts him with rocks and Wufan’s eyes flicker over to watch their petty fight, Luhan half trying to stop them and half laughing; Yixing subtly pulling clumps of hay over to himself while Chen is distracted.
“It doesn’t even look hygienic…” Xiumin regards the bottles with suspicion, “How do we know we won’t die tomorrow from drinking this?”
“I drink this all the time!”
“That explains a lot,” mutters Sehun, earning himself a glare.
Chen runs to the tent, returning with five cups. He pours a cup for Wufan first, who stares blankly at the brown liquid swilling around inside. Luhan accepts his by force-feeding Yixing who was relaxing in the hay, mouth open; the herbalist gags as Luhan holds his mouth shut, cackling. Xiumin sees Wufan raise an eyebrow before looking at his own cup, as if contemplating who he could force to drink. When the hunter’s eyes meet his gaze he quickly looks away, choosing to watch Chen pour another cup for Luhan, before handing Yixing and Sehun their own cups.
“How much alcohol was in that?” asks Yixing, looking a little cross-eyed.
“Not sure, I just improvised.” Chen shrugs.
Sehun’s face falls.
“You made this? Oh Heaven… Now there’s even less reason to drink it. I might turn into a toad tonight.”
“With a little luck.”
Xiumin snaps towards Wufan who sits, impassive as he warms his hands by the fire. His face is in the same expression as it was a minute ago and Xiumin wonders whether he’s hearing things. Nobody else seems to have heard, Sehun and Chen bickering whilst Luhan tries to calm them down. He sniffs his cup - there’s a lot of alcohol. On the positive side, that means they’re less likely to taste the lizard.
“Shut up shut up! I want to start my story!” Luhan is waving his hands like some handicapped crow.
Chen huffs and takes a swig from one bottle, finishing the remaining wine. Sehun grabs Luhan’s arms and pouts, still glaring at the apprentice shaman.
“Start.”
All eyes turn to Wufan who is now cross-legged, holding the cup loosely in one hand. Luhan blinks and nods; this elicits a small huff from Sehun who resents his Ge being ordered but Luhan starts.
“Once there was a handsome scholar who happened to be taking a walk. On his way home he ran into a beautiful woman, whose face was filled with distress. Asking her what the matter was, she replied her husband beat her and she was running away as she feared he would beat her to death.
The scholar immediately took pity on this lovely woman, and offered his house to her and she stayed in his study, where they would debate on the classics, the teachings and politics. Smitten, he intended to make her his concubine as he was already married. One day as he walked outside, a Taoist priest came to him and told him he was in grave danger and to watch the woman carefully. Sneaking home, he heard her inside the study and hid behind a curtain. As he stood hidden there, he saw her peel off her skin, revealing a hideous ghost of bones and rotting flesh beneath. The ghost started painting and he watched as she wore it, becoming the beauty maiden he had fallen for.
Alarmed he fled to the priest who gave him a magic whisk, and told him to sleep with it next to him. The ghost was too powerful though, and was enraged upon seeing the whisk and ate his heart. The scholar’s wife, having witnessed the painted ghost killing her husband, ran to the priest who told her to go to a certain beggar, and not to be offended by his words. On finding the beggar, the man swore and spat at her pleas, but she would not budge. Eventually he handed her a mirror and she ran back, to where the ghost was still masquerading as a woman and flashed the mirror which revealed the ghost’s true nature. The skin peeled away and the ghost faded, screaming, until all that was left was her husband’s heart. The wife placed it back in his chest and the scholar was alive once more.”
Luhan finished, grinning widely at Chen who shuddered and opened the second bottle of wine.
“Painted skin… That’s disgusting. Imagine if he’d made clouds and rain with that.” He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to get rid of the image.
“He probably did,” drawls Sehun, “Necrophilia at its best.”
Chen peers at him through half-closed eyes.
“You are one sick kid.”
“My turn now,” says Sehun, ignoring him, “I heard this from one of the servants.”
“There was a man by the name of Wang Zu Fu who sees a pretty girl giggling atop a plum tree during the Lantern Festival. Seeing the handsome scholar, she threw a sprig of plum blossoms down and his heart was caught. Afterwards he searched for her, and was told she lived in the next village over, but when he went there she was nowhere to be found. When he finally found her, he declared his love and took the girl, Ying Ning back to be his wife. However Ying Ning was a two hundred year old fox fairy who had mastered the art of transformation after one hundred years. She sought to absorb the scholar’s qi, his life force and one night he chases her, laughing into the garden where he embraces and penetrates her, only to fall dead. Ying Ning disappears, a hollow tree left with a scorpion hidden inside the trunk and as Zu Fu dies she sucks his qi, laughing, and leaves.”
“A scorpion stung him… There?” Xiumin, Chen and Luhan cup their sensitive parts instinctively.
“I told you, Sehun is one sick kid,” says Chen, “Who else would tell a story about scorpions stinging men’s jade staffs? And I swear, that qi is a metaphor for something.”
“Vitality?” supplies Yixing, and Chen leers.
“Something like that. After all, fox spirits are known to drain their partners during clouds and rain, as it feeds their life force and powers.”
“I thought they ate livers and hearts?” Luhan scrunches up his forehead, “Like the beast killing the cattle.”
“Oh ho, that’s a fox spirit all right,” says Chen, cheeks rosy, “The hearts are a dead giveaway.”
“So it is a fox spirit?” Luhan leans closer.
Chen wags one finger in mock-severity and Xiumin tries to take the bottle away from him, fearing that the other will be sick all over the fire.
“Qi helps their life force and helps to heal them, or so the legends say. Livers… I hear they have the same purpose as hearts-increasing their age and powers so they can gain more tails, but are the less effective version. If a fox spirit truly wants to become powerful it must consume human hearts for the heart is our source of life, the most potent source of energy. As the child’s story said, a fox that reaches 100 has the ability to shape-shift, usually into a beautiful girl. Once it reaches 500 it is granted a wish.”
“Yes, yes, go on,” says Luhan, impatient, “Yixing has mentioned the age thing before.”
“Do you want to hear or not? As I was saying, at 500 years it is granted a wish for reaching nine-tails, either to go to Heaven or for anything else it wishes.”
“Why would it want to go to Heaven so much?” asked Xiumin, “Wouldn’t it rather stay on Earth with other spirits and grow more powerful.”
“Wouldn’t you get bored of a thousand years of living, having to hide, no matter how seductive and sexy you were?” asks Chen, “Because I would get bored pretty quick. And I hear Heaven has heavenly fairies waiting to serve you.”
They all groan at his joke.
“Do they have any weaknesses?”
When Chen doesn’t respond fast enough Luhan jabs him hard in the side. Yixing giggles, swaying. His cheeks are also flushed and Xiumin sighs, foreseeing tucking two people in tonight.
“Ahh weaknesses… Well foxes are afraid of dogs. Also, if a fox drinks alcohol it is said to reveal its true form and while it is in a drunken stupor you can kill it.”
“So if I somehow trap and drug the beast, I’ll be able to kill it?”
Chen’s eyes snap back into focus, struggling to stay sober.
“I never said it was a fox fairy. It’s probably a bear.”
“But you said the hearts were a dead giveaway!”
“There are a lot of things I say but that doesn’t mean they’re right! I’m only an apprentice after all!”
“Truer words were never spoken,” Sehun says, nudging Yixing with his foot. The herbalist is curled up like a cat next to him in the empty space Luhan has left.
“You! You must drink more honoured teacher!” Chen staggers forward, narrowly missing the fire had Xiumin not pulled him away. He grabs Wufan’s empty cup and pours another, waits expectantly for the man to drink it.
“Chen, you can’t force him to drink,” admonishes Luhan.
Wufan pauses for a second, Chen’s gaze unfailing, and then downs it without hesitation, licking his lips slowly. Across the fire, Luhan’s eyes follow the movement and his grip on Sehun grows a little tighter.
“Needs more alcohol.”
Chen lets out a whoop and pours another cup, before handing him the whole bottle as an afterthought.
“More stories!”
A/N: This chapter was so long, I had to break it into two.
The stories Luhan and Sehun tell are both based on old folk tales from "Strange Tales of Liaozhai" which has nearly 500 stories about the supernatural, in particular on ghosts and fox fairies. I just tweaked the tales a little for narrative purposes :P And yay! New readers commented, thank you!
Second part of this chapter should hopefully be up by Sunday... Time for Wufan to tell some tales.
Author: clubotaku
Pairing: Kris/Luhan with minor Sehun/Luhan, Lay/Luhan
Characters: EXO-M with mentions of Hangeng, Victoria and others
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance, Supernatural, Historical Au!
Previous chapters: http://clubotaku.livejournal.com/17349.html, http://clubotaku.livejournal.com/17488.html, http://clubotaku.livejournal.com/18586.html, http://clubotaku.livejournal.com/19031.html, http://clubotaku.livejournal.com/19759.html, http://clubotaku.livejournal.com/20113.html
Summary: After 500 years of collecting hearts, a fox spirit will be able to go to Heaven
A/N: A longer chapter than expected. Enjoy!
床前明月光
My bedroom floor flooded with moonlight,
疑是地上霜
I thought it was frost, but not quite
舉頭望明月
Lifting my sight, I see the moon shining bright.
低頭思故鄉
Dipping my head, I brood: How would my home-village be tonight?
Li Bai 李 白- Night Thoughts 靜 夜 思
Wufan sits on top of the hill, chewing the remnants of a roast duck slowly, the rich flavor of the sauce combined with the juicy meat causing him to sigh happily. Luhan had been on time tonight, obviously preparing for tonight’s practice with his friends in the audience. His friends… Wufan wanted to laugh at the flimsy protection the little apprentice had tried to put along with those useless paper talismans. The circle could keep a lesser spirit out but not him… No, it had been too long, far too long for the time he may have been stopped by something like that. However he had noticed the way the apprentice… Chan or Chen, whatever in the Jade Emperor’s name his name was, had clutched his head as he entered. The fear emanating from him and that chubby one who looked like a mantou, Xiumin… It was so delicious. Xiumin was enough to feed him for a day and a half judging by his pudgy cheeks, no doubt helped by the very buns he created. The fox in him wanted to rip him in half and suck the marrow from his bones… No! Wufan snarled at the air, he would not succumb to his desires like that. I have control. I have had time… So much time… Too much time. Frustrated, he crushes the bones, not bothering with the marrow, and releases it into the wind. Luhan has packed some pickled vegetables - really? Had Luhan really not guessed his nightly ‘pet’ was a carnivore? - which were smelly, but edible. Even in his past life he had not been a fan of pickled cucumbers soaked in blasted, stinky vinegar but he was hungry, and this would do to stop his hunger. For now. Or we could just eat Luhan… The very smell of him… Wufan shakes the thought away, lip curling in disgust. The vegetables are swallowed in one go, his canines protruding as he bears the acidity. So hungy. Ears emerge, twitching as his face elongates and his body crouches on all fours. A twig snaps-a rabbit freezes somewhere behind him, the fox, having smelt the scent of a predator that was invisible before. It is over in a second, the blood a mockery of the circle Chen had attempted earlier, a ring around the broken body. Wufan pauses for a second, inhales, then his claws shoot towards the chest, still warm, and sink into and through until he feels his prize throbbing dully. The heart, still beating. The fox licks its lips and swallows.
Later, Wufan sits in a clearing in the forest, silent apart from the wind and the rustling of the trees. Here he is alone, all animals have fled from him once his scent entered the area; here he is alone, save from his thoughts and the damning sky, always watching. The stars are emerging, some constellations burning brighter than others, watching, waiting. He curses the Gods, the spirits, everyone, letting out a harsh bark before his claws erupt, slashing trees left and right.
Control yourself
“I am in control!” he screams at nobody, at himself.
Somewhere in his mind it clicks that he needs to leave soon, that Luhan will be on his way to the barracks now. I can make it, he thinks, for a fox spirit like him something like that is child’s play, I can make in a second. Luhan…
Control yourself Wufan
“I AM!”
Blue fire latches onto the trees and scorches the grass until the earth sears with heat, the fox spirit slashing the earth wildly, punching tree trunks in rapid succession, watching as the centuries old beings topple before him. The night sky creeps onwards, erasing the red of the sun and smothering light, all light apart from the moon and the stars, those cursed stars.
He waits for the sky to speak but nothing comes and he is left there alone in the barren and burnt land of his making, his claws tipped rust brown from the burnt rabbits’ blood, his eyes blazing.
Control yourself
He walks, the claws disappear and the pointed ears recede until a human man is all that’s left. The lights of the barracks near and down to his left on the road that leads from the city to the army camp he can see Luhan laughing with his friends, Luhan, so young and happy and carefree. The pang of envy hits him but he composes himself, rearranges his face into its usual stoic mask. Watch me, he thinks, watch and wait for me.
Xiumin has to be honest - he’s terrified of Wufan. The man puts him on edge, every movement sharp and feline. He doesn’t know how Luhan stands it really, the constant staring, and the sense that he’s watching you even when his eyes are elsewhere. Chen is scared too though he won’t say it, but Xiumin knows he’s snuck a talisman beneath his robe (he noticed the fresh paint on his fingers) despite the jokes he’s currently cracking about Luhan’s prowess with the bow. There’s nothing that should scare him really, apart from Wufan’s unusually tall height, but this sense. Sehun would scoff and roll his eyes, would say how Ge is being a baby again, and yes, Xiumin thinks, yes he is a scaredy-cat and the least brave of the group (he has yet to determine whether Yixing is brave or just oblivious) but his gut feeling tells him Wufan is dangerous.
“Aiyah, he’s a hunter-he’s used to being by himself in the wild!” Luhan didn’t seem to care much, “Though he is a little bit of a stick-in-the-mud… So many drills… Thought my fingers might crack from overuse.”
“Nightly use?” Chen had asked, useless as ever. Xiumin wanted to hit him with a steamed bun.
“Luhan moves around a lot in his sleep,” Yixing had said, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
Sehun looked like someone shot his horse; Luhan flushed red and flapped his hands uselessly and the conversation had gone downhill from there (no thanks to Chen) until he had managed to steer them back to the more mundane topic of politics.
Now Wufan is barking orders at Luhan, who has shot quiver after quiver, most landing on the outer rings (or the floor) but a few are breaking into the inner circles. Yixing has wandered off to prepare a drink for Luhan and Sehun is alternating between praising Luhan when he hits the target and cursing his ‘slave master of a common wanderer’ when he misses.
“Sehun-ah, you shouldn’t talk like that,” chides Xiumin, “The common people may get offended.”
“I speak to the supernatural, don’t include me in this,” said Chen and Xiumin really did hit him.
Sehun looks at the ground, sheepish and Xiumin ruffles his hair affectionately.
“Sorry Ge… I just get worked up when this… Person is ordering Luhan-ge around. He puts me on edge.”
“Me too Sehun-ah, me too.”
“Maybe a little wine will loosen him up,” says Chen, “Male bonding time after this.”
Sehun grimaces and smoothens a stray lock of hair back into position, adjusts his stiff dress robes.
“We’re not sleeping together are we? I don’t like being confined in small places, let alone the dirty army tents. Oh God, are we supposed to sleep on the floor? Are there enough cots? I’m sensitive to dirt… I heard the barracks are infested with fleas! Mother told me -”
“You’re sleeping in the tent next to mine on a cot Sehun-ah,” says Luhan, draping an arm around the younger boy who breaks into a wide smile, immediately wrapping his arm around his waist.
“What about us?” asks Xiumin, hoping there are still spare cots.
“You guys are all in the same tent with Sehun, don’t worry.”
“And Yixing?”
Sehun looks at Luhan who bites his lip, before giving a bright smile as Yixing returns bearing a steaming cup.
“Yixing has a cot in my tent.”
Sehun’s eyes lose their shine and he turns to stare at Yixing who is ignorant, calmly blowing on the brew before handing it to Luhan.
“Yixing is sleeping with you all.”
Their eyes turn to the speaker, to Wufan who sits atop the fence across from them. The wooden fence does not inspire confidence in Xiumin at all, not from the lazy way the other man is draped on it. Nobody says anything, Yixing looking at Luhan and Luhan looking back. Sehun’s eyes watch them while Chen and Xiumin watch him watch them.
“Why? Yixing usually stays with me because I need night draughts… I get restless.”
Wufan looks bored.
“He sleeps with the others. If you have a problem with that you can talk to your brother.”
The words die in Luhan’s throat and Yixing squeezes his hands, whispers,“I’ll be right next door, I can sneak in if -”
“And no sneaking into each other’s tents.”
Sehun looks at Wufan with begrudged appreciation; Luhan’s face twitches as he stares the taller man down, Yixing squeezing his hand comfortingly.
“But”
“You will be alone in the wild. Get used to it my Lord.”
“Are you mocking him?” Sehun’s voice is hard, “You dare mock Lord Lu’s son?”
“Sehun-ah, it’s ok, I -”
“I dare,” replies the other, “Because my job is to teach him not coddle him like some newborn calf.”
“Well if you don’t do your job properly and Luhan-ge gets hurt I will make sure you are punished, and publicly at that!”
Wufan laughs, a harsh sound that has Xiumin wince and the normally impassive Yixing turns his head away from it. He barely blinks and there, Wufan towers above Sehun who does an impressive job of staring haughtily back as if the right to breathe oxygen was his.
“Punish me if you can Oh Sehun. That is, if a spoilt, immature piece of child meat like you could even fight and catch me. A hundred years of experience may not even help you.”
“What did you call me?” Sehun’s voice is rising, growing even more agitated as he tries to maintain superiority, even as he stares up at the hunter.
“Sehun-ah, please-”
“Ge this filthy commoner should be punished!”
“Sehun-ah, please!” The note of pleading in Luhan’s voice stops Sehun from hurling abuse at Wufan, who smirks. Luhan shoots him a glare and his face turns blank.
“Sehun-ah… You know he’s an excellent archer. Better than Ge-even Hangeng-ge says so! I didn’t want to believe it either… But I’ve improved Sehun, you can see it too right? I haven’t even been training with him that long and he’s managed to get me closer to the bulls eye.”
“You always had the inherent ability, I knew you did Ge!” Sehun’s voice is rising in pitch.
“You and I both know I was lousy… Now I have improved. If I continue I will be ready for the Ceremony.”
“Something your supposed help could not do,” says Wufan, voice smug, “I guess commoners have their use after all.”
“I swear by Heaven, if something happens to Luhan, if you dare touch him I will kill you. Shoot you myself.”
“When father dearest lets you off your leash let me know. Luhan doesn’t need to handle a puppy, that’s child’s play.”
Sehun growls but Luhan holds him still, eyes begging him to calm down. He softens, but just slightly.
“Ge,” Sehun looks straight at Luhan, “I don’t like him nor do I trust him.”
Yixing, Chen and Xiumin all turn to their friend, faces showing they feel the same. Luhan is silent, stares at the ornate jade hanging around Sehun’s neck. Wufan watches, waits.
“Ge.”
Now Sehun is the one pleading and inwardly Wufan lights up at the desperation in his voice.
“Sehun-ah,” Luhan breathes, before enveloping the younger boy in a hug, “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”
“They don’t and I don’t trust him at all...” Sehun’s voice trails off.
“I do though. I trust him.”
Sehun’s face turns that of shock, unable to hide his surprise; Yixing’s eyes widen and Chen fidgets nervously. Xiumin gapes, looking back and forth from Luhan to Wufan who is staring at the sky. Slowly his almond-shaped eyes lower themselves to face Luhan, still hugging Sehun but eyes focused on the other, resolute. He doesn’t smile and when he speaks his voice takes a while to come out, soft but determined.
“I trust him.”
Later, after Wufan has deemed practice to be over and Luhan looks sufficiently drained, they sit around the fire, warming their hands and bodies. The autumn wind is a grave forbearer of the winter to come and Xiumin shivers, trying to bury himself further in his blanket. The cotton coat he wears on top of his normal baking robes gives little warmth, and the woven shoes are useless against the wind as it seeps through the worn out threads. Chen is somewhere beneath the mound of hay that was supposed to be for the horses feeding, half his body hidden, the colourful cloak poking through the yellow. Sehun and Luhan are swathed in fur, both wearing finely trimmed cloaks and boots. They look a little like twins in their tan outfits and large furry hats, Sehun mirroring Luhan as they laugh. Yixing is half-asleep on Luhan’s other side, half his body beneath Luhan’s cloak and the other in his own woven jacket, little bits and pieces of herbs and leaves sticking out. Luhan catches Xiumin shivering and grins.
“Feeling a little frozen there Baozi?”
Xiumin sighs.
“Frozen bao… No good to eat,” mumbles Yixing, shifting closer to Luhan.
The haystack that is Chen giggles.
“Here,” says Luhan, “You have this. You do feed me from time to time.” He grins, giving a thumbs up as Xiumin blinks from under the heavy cloak Luhan has covered him in, lets out a happy sound as he burrows in the warmth.
“Won’t you be cold?” He looks at his friend, worried. Luhan isn’t that built, some could say slender, isn’t that immune to sickness or harsh weather. The weather has not dropped below freezing yet but it could still cause illness.
Sehun stands up, opens his coat, intending to offer it to share but Wufan beats him to it, dropping his own black cloak on Luhan’s head.
“Have it, the fire is enough for me.”
He grabs a bundle of hay from Chen’s current shelter and throws it on the fire which burns brighter, warmer; sits down close enough that the red and yellow shows on his face but not close enough to be burnt.
“Thanks,” says Luhan, “Are you sure you don’t-”
Wufan gives a small shake of his head then returns to staring at the fire. Luhan sits back down between Sehun and Yixing, the darkness of the cloak swallowing him until his fair hands and face are all the show, his black hair blending in apart from the gold of his top knot. Yixing shuffles closer, closes his eyes. Sehun seems to be trying to cover the cloak with his own tan one, is mumbling something about ‘dirt’ and ‘parasites’ but Xiumin can’t quite hear him, though he doesn’t really need to. Sehun has made no effort to hide his hatred of the hunter and Luhan has spent the evening placating and distracting him while Wufan has spent the same time staring stonily back whenever they make eye contact-Sehun’s lip curling back before Luhan changes the subject or diverts his attention.
Silence falls around the fire; around them the barracks are quiet with most of the soldiers asleep or patrolling. Hangeng hasn’t been seen all evening and Xiumin can tell Luhan’s cheerfulness has diminished since they arrived, especially when Wufan had told him Hangeng’s orders about the sleeping arrangements. He studies the trio huddled together on the other side of the fire, forehead crinkling as he sees the way Sehun idolizes Luhan and the familiar way Luhan and Yixing’s bodies curl towards each other. If, Xiumin thinks, if their affections do turn towards each other, in that way, what can they do? What would I do? He has heard in the old stories and even now, of how men turn to each other for comfort but never permanently. They marry; have concubines and many children to continue the family line. Luhan and Sehun certainly will be married off to some politically advantageous families, to daughters of similar upbringing and breeding. Unlike him, having stopped education since entering his teens and relying on lessons here and there from Luhan and Sehun, or eavesdropping on the school nearby. Luhan and Yixing… How long has it been since Yixing started sleeping at his? Since they were children, before Sehun came along and before Chen arrived, Yixing has clung onto Luhan. They were like vines, gripping tightly onto each other for support on a particularly tall tree, their tendrils intertwined and reaching for the unknown end. Luhan has kissed many girls; Yixing none.
His mind flashes back to that awkward moment here, when he glimpsed Yixing kissing Luhan to ‘feed’ him his medicine just as he stepped aside to let Hangeng in. Xiumin hadn’t felt disgust, couldn’t bring himself to feel that emotion, not when two people he knew very well were involved. At first he’d brushed it off as a joke-Yixing and Luhan were always doing stupid bets-but afterwards, when he was alone he had thought about their closeness, the way they seemed to understand each other without words. The way Yixing’s fingers lingered or his constant need to see Luhan at the slightest sign of illness. Chen had once had a whooping cough and Yixing had taken nearly two hours to get from his house to Chen’s when it would usually take half an hour. It didn’t seem like Luhan liked men as such, or at least it didn’t seem he got that look in his eye the way Yixing did when Luhan wasn’t looking. He had to admit though, their closeness was unnatural for men; if he and Chen were that close… Ergh. Give me a girl any day…
Sehun was idol-worship mixed with brotherly love and probably that love wives gave to their husbands. Devotion. He was just as touchy as Yixing but in a more obvious way; Yixing hid his affection or gave it subtly while others were around but Sehun had practically declared his stake on Luhan since the elder had broken down his barriers those years ago. Xiumin thinks and remembers how the first words the Joseon boy ever spoke were Luhan’s name. Is Luhan? Are any of them? If people were to find out… He closes his eyes. If it were true… If people knew, Luhan and Sehun could be disowned or forced into marriage early. Yixing would be shunned. People who were different did not fare well in this world. His eyes flick to the half-hidden body of Yixing, asleep against Luhan. In the light of the fire he sees their fingers turned around each other, even as Sehun grips Luhan’s other arm whispering about something that makes the elder boy shake with suppressed mirth. Maybe it’s his lack of education in the Confucian classics that makes him more accepting of what he’s sure is happening. Maybe it’s because he’s used to seeing this affection after growing up together and he’s grown used to it.
No matter what, thinks Xiumin, I’ll still make buns for them. I don’t care if their jade staff is different.
Chen’s voice breaks his thoughts.
“Well… This is a little boring. And cold. Mostly cold.”
Sehun gives him his favourite look of disdain.
“Then go sleep and stop hiding in a haystack you quack.”
Chen looks offended, or at least, what little he can see of him does.
“I meant we could talk about something or tell stories instead of sitting in silence.”
“Stories?” Yixing rubs his eyes.
“Yeah… Ghost stories, love stories, anything! I don’t feel like sleeping just yet…”
Xiumin knows this is a lie from the dark circles the apprentice has had since this morning.
“I know one!” says Luhan happily, “I heard it from Songqian-jie.”
“What’s it about Ge?” asks Sehun, not that the answer really matters to him.
“It’s a ghost story!” Luhan claps his hands in glee.
Chen’s face falls and Xiumin can’t help but laugh at the irony, an apprentice Shaman afraid of the afterlife. Chen emerges from his haystack, brandishing two bottles of something. The bottles are filled with liquid the colour of Kuixian’s hooves and Sehun gags at the sight of a lizard floating inside one of them.
“I’m not drinking that.”
“Ghost stories need drinks! We’re all almost men anyway… Well, except for you Sehun, you’re just an overgrown baby.”
Sehun pelts him with rocks and Wufan’s eyes flicker over to watch their petty fight, Luhan half trying to stop them and half laughing; Yixing subtly pulling clumps of hay over to himself while Chen is distracted.
“It doesn’t even look hygienic…” Xiumin regards the bottles with suspicion, “How do we know we won’t die tomorrow from drinking this?”
“I drink this all the time!”
“That explains a lot,” mutters Sehun, earning himself a glare.
Chen runs to the tent, returning with five cups. He pours a cup for Wufan first, who stares blankly at the brown liquid swilling around inside. Luhan accepts his by force-feeding Yixing who was relaxing in the hay, mouth open; the herbalist gags as Luhan holds his mouth shut, cackling. Xiumin sees Wufan raise an eyebrow before looking at his own cup, as if contemplating who he could force to drink. When the hunter’s eyes meet his gaze he quickly looks away, choosing to watch Chen pour another cup for Luhan, before handing Yixing and Sehun their own cups.
“How much alcohol was in that?” asks Yixing, looking a little cross-eyed.
“Not sure, I just improvised.” Chen shrugs.
Sehun’s face falls.
“You made this? Oh Heaven… Now there’s even less reason to drink it. I might turn into a toad tonight.”
“With a little luck.”
Xiumin snaps towards Wufan who sits, impassive as he warms his hands by the fire. His face is in the same expression as it was a minute ago and Xiumin wonders whether he’s hearing things. Nobody else seems to have heard, Sehun and Chen bickering whilst Luhan tries to calm them down. He sniffs his cup - there’s a lot of alcohol. On the positive side, that means they’re less likely to taste the lizard.
“Shut up shut up! I want to start my story!” Luhan is waving his hands like some handicapped crow.
Chen huffs and takes a swig from one bottle, finishing the remaining wine. Sehun grabs Luhan’s arms and pouts, still glaring at the apprentice shaman.
“Start.”
All eyes turn to Wufan who is now cross-legged, holding the cup loosely in one hand. Luhan blinks and nods; this elicits a small huff from Sehun who resents his Ge being ordered but Luhan starts.
“Once there was a handsome scholar who happened to be taking a walk. On his way home he ran into a beautiful woman, whose face was filled with distress. Asking her what the matter was, she replied her husband beat her and she was running away as she feared he would beat her to death.
The scholar immediately took pity on this lovely woman, and offered his house to her and she stayed in his study, where they would debate on the classics, the teachings and politics. Smitten, he intended to make her his concubine as he was already married. One day as he walked outside, a Taoist priest came to him and told him he was in grave danger and to watch the woman carefully. Sneaking home, he heard her inside the study and hid behind a curtain. As he stood hidden there, he saw her peel off her skin, revealing a hideous ghost of bones and rotting flesh beneath. The ghost started painting and he watched as she wore it, becoming the beauty maiden he had fallen for.
Alarmed he fled to the priest who gave him a magic whisk, and told him to sleep with it next to him. The ghost was too powerful though, and was enraged upon seeing the whisk and ate his heart. The scholar’s wife, having witnessed the painted ghost killing her husband, ran to the priest who told her to go to a certain beggar, and not to be offended by his words. On finding the beggar, the man swore and spat at her pleas, but she would not budge. Eventually he handed her a mirror and she ran back, to where the ghost was still masquerading as a woman and flashed the mirror which revealed the ghost’s true nature. The skin peeled away and the ghost faded, screaming, until all that was left was her husband’s heart. The wife placed it back in his chest and the scholar was alive once more.”
Luhan finished, grinning widely at Chen who shuddered and opened the second bottle of wine.
“Painted skin… That’s disgusting. Imagine if he’d made clouds and rain with that.” He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to get rid of the image.
“He probably did,” drawls Sehun, “Necrophilia at its best.”
Chen peers at him through half-closed eyes.
“You are one sick kid.”
“My turn now,” says Sehun, ignoring him, “I heard this from one of the servants.”
“There was a man by the name of Wang Zu Fu who sees a pretty girl giggling atop a plum tree during the Lantern Festival. Seeing the handsome scholar, she threw a sprig of plum blossoms down and his heart was caught. Afterwards he searched for her, and was told she lived in the next village over, but when he went there she was nowhere to be found. When he finally found her, he declared his love and took the girl, Ying Ning back to be his wife. However Ying Ning was a two hundred year old fox fairy who had mastered the art of transformation after one hundred years. She sought to absorb the scholar’s qi, his life force and one night he chases her, laughing into the garden where he embraces and penetrates her, only to fall dead. Ying Ning disappears, a hollow tree left with a scorpion hidden inside the trunk and as Zu Fu dies she sucks his qi, laughing, and leaves.”
“A scorpion stung him… There?” Xiumin, Chen and Luhan cup their sensitive parts instinctively.
“I told you, Sehun is one sick kid,” says Chen, “Who else would tell a story about scorpions stinging men’s jade staffs? And I swear, that qi is a metaphor for something.”
“Vitality?” supplies Yixing, and Chen leers.
“Something like that. After all, fox spirits are known to drain their partners during clouds and rain, as it feeds their life force and powers.”
“I thought they ate livers and hearts?” Luhan scrunches up his forehead, “Like the beast killing the cattle.”
“Oh ho, that’s a fox spirit all right,” says Chen, cheeks rosy, “The hearts are a dead giveaway.”
“So it is a fox spirit?” Luhan leans closer.
Chen wags one finger in mock-severity and Xiumin tries to take the bottle away from him, fearing that the other will be sick all over the fire.
“Qi helps their life force and helps to heal them, or so the legends say. Livers… I hear they have the same purpose as hearts-increasing their age and powers so they can gain more tails, but are the less effective version. If a fox spirit truly wants to become powerful it must consume human hearts for the heart is our source of life, the most potent source of energy. As the child’s story said, a fox that reaches 100 has the ability to shape-shift, usually into a beautiful girl. Once it reaches 500 it is granted a wish.”
“Yes, yes, go on,” says Luhan, impatient, “Yixing has mentioned the age thing before.”
“Do you want to hear or not? As I was saying, at 500 years it is granted a wish for reaching nine-tails, either to go to Heaven or for anything else it wishes.”
“Why would it want to go to Heaven so much?” asked Xiumin, “Wouldn’t it rather stay on Earth with other spirits and grow more powerful.”
“Wouldn’t you get bored of a thousand years of living, having to hide, no matter how seductive and sexy you were?” asks Chen, “Because I would get bored pretty quick. And I hear Heaven has heavenly fairies waiting to serve you.”
They all groan at his joke.
“Do they have any weaknesses?”
When Chen doesn’t respond fast enough Luhan jabs him hard in the side. Yixing giggles, swaying. His cheeks are also flushed and Xiumin sighs, foreseeing tucking two people in tonight.
“Ahh weaknesses… Well foxes are afraid of dogs. Also, if a fox drinks alcohol it is said to reveal its true form and while it is in a drunken stupor you can kill it.”
“So if I somehow trap and drug the beast, I’ll be able to kill it?”
Chen’s eyes snap back into focus, struggling to stay sober.
“I never said it was a fox fairy. It’s probably a bear.”
“But you said the hearts were a dead giveaway!”
“There are a lot of things I say but that doesn’t mean they’re right! I’m only an apprentice after all!”
“Truer words were never spoken,” Sehun says, nudging Yixing with his foot. The herbalist is curled up like a cat next to him in the empty space Luhan has left.
“You! You must drink more honoured teacher!” Chen staggers forward, narrowly missing the fire had Xiumin not pulled him away. He grabs Wufan’s empty cup and pours another, waits expectantly for the man to drink it.
“Chen, you can’t force him to drink,” admonishes Luhan.
Wufan pauses for a second, Chen’s gaze unfailing, and then downs it without hesitation, licking his lips slowly. Across the fire, Luhan’s eyes follow the movement and his grip on Sehun grows a little tighter.
“Needs more alcohol.”
Chen lets out a whoop and pours another cup, before handing him the whole bottle as an afterthought.
“More stories!”
A/N: This chapter was so long, I had to break it into two.
The stories Luhan and Sehun tell are both based on old folk tales from "Strange Tales of Liaozhai" which has nearly 500 stories about the supernatural, in particular on ghosts and fox fairies. I just tweaked the tales a little for narrative purposes :P And yay! New readers commented, thank you!
Second part of this chapter should hopefully be up by Sunday... Time for Wufan to tell some tales.