#its dan feng feels hours again

[mihcor]

the loneliness of the high elder and the high cloud quintet

[rindough]

also wow i just realized i have like no dreamcore songs except i guess fireflies by spaceouters? dunno who i'd associate that with tbh. i have a BUNCH of indie tho if you're interested

HI ANON and its okay >< not everyone gotta have those songs but i took a listen to fireflies n hmmmmm this song rlly gives me dan heng vibes

like look at his room, the floor tiles, the shelves, the desktop, his bed. dan heng to me comes across as the guy who doesn't sleep early. half the time, if you're up and walking around the cabin, trying to make tea or coffee or just get water, best believe half the time you'll be met with a "why are you still up?" or a "hey"

he'll sometimes invite you to his room where OK LETS IMAGINE his floors can be customized to whatever he wants. so sometimes when you enter his room, it'll be in the shades of blue, dark blue in fact, calm navy waves swirling below you as you take in the cool air that hits your face.

he'll have you wait by the side as he adjusts his pillows and all, then calling you over to sit beside him with your hot drink in hand. you'll talk about those trips that he didn't get to join in, the weird shower thoughts you have, his random thoughts, and sometimes, he'll even share his secrets because he puts his faith in you, much more that he had anticipated.

your talks would go on for hours and hours and it'll just end up being a sleepover. like it'll all start with a

"come, let's lay down and talk, my back's tired."

then suddenly you'll be faced with a soft smile on his face accompanied by half lidded eyes, and a "good morning."

and, you'll be standing in front of March 7 who has a big smile on her face and also a "good morning." already giggling at the sight of the two of you huddled together at the morning's coldness.

another scenario is that when he'll have nightmares of blade haunting him, reminding him of dan feng's sins. if he's ever woken up by those nightmares the night before, the night after he'll have his floors be set to those waves again, or something calming, a relaxing ambient type of setting like rain or the ocean again KSJDHF but! he'll play this song to set his mood before wrapping himself comfortably in his blankets, trying to fall asleep. he'll slowly release the tension around his feet, then legs, letting go of himself in each limb and all the way until he's fallen asleep.

These nights would be somewhat peaceful, ykno sometimes or some ppl, when they've been a night owl for quite some time, and they finally, FINALLY get that 10pm sleep and wake up at 7am??

YEA that's what happens to him during those nights, he'll wake up, feeling even more refreshed and energized, feeling as if he's taken a step forward, ready to start the day again.

btw anonnie, do u wanna set an emoji alias for urself? :OO

[shentm]

outsider still doesn't feel complete to me but i'm leaving it here for now. blade pov, no beta we die like baiheng, check tags for trigger warnings

The dream catches itself on those at the center of the tragedy, locking on to the minds already half-emptied by mara. It watches, as the nights repeat, as the hunt grows farther from its purpose.

He's covered in it, clothes slick with blood, the moonlight sliding off of it and watching him through the reflection. Every time he shows up, Jing Yuan has to stay awake for hours afterward, scrubbing at the floors to rid his home of the stains and the stench of mara-stricken beasts. It doesn't help that he likes to trail his sword behind, leaving gouges that the blood flows through, pooling in divots and seeping into the cracks between. But it's not like Jing Yuan expected him to be different.

An Outsider, who participated in a horrific ritual, and became tethered to the merging of paths, a creation of a collector who found the occurrence too interesting to resist. Who was given the abundance emanator's blessing, transforming him into something thought of as prey by most of the Xianzhou Alliance. It's strange that he's still sane sometimes, occasionally managing to break the contradictory resonance of intertwined paths where the hunt and the abundance intersect.

In the shared dream he sees the echoes of those he once knew, dead beings recreated in a perfect recollection of the waking world. It's just how he remembers, an everlasting reminder of what they did. He's drawn in when asleep and awake, unable to escape the repetition of memory.

In that intersection of paths he sometimes finds the shadow of the Imbibitor Lunae running away and away, too afraid to face his crimes. He finds the corpse of a dragon protected by its unborn kin, and tears it apart instead of looking back. He fights through the same landscapes again and again, always waking up in front of the same dim lamp. The only reason he can think of for this endless repetition is that someone out there likes these memories, wants to see the moment of the sin done right.

Skin melts against skin, fire burning through hair. The wet noise of a blade squelching as it rips through meat is the only sound that interrupts the guttural screaming of those beasts, displacing the cries with blood down their throats. Their pathetic existences mirror his own. Eyes press against his brain where they grow inside his skull, amplifying the beats of his heart. A constant high pitched whine carries through the sky, staying with him wherever he goes. Physical discomfort keeps him in the dream, afraid of what deeper pain awaits with the dawn of wakefulness.

He sees her too, sometimes, guarding the path before the corpse. She sees him in return, and they always meet in a clash of swords, the moon almost close enough to touch. It watches next to them, the blue light of her own weapon brilliant against the clouded orange sky. There was never any other choice; a recreation can only travel down the path of the original, like wheels in a rut on a dried dirt road. They tell each other that the dream will end. He continues the hunt again.

The dream is an awful thing to endure. He wonders about its purpose when cleaning his blade that Jingliu so kindly returned.

Dan Feng never acknowledges him, never admits to what he did, never even calls him by name. But it's clear that despite the physical differences, he's still the same arrogant coward that lives in the dream. How else would Dan Feng manage to kill him every time with the weapon he forged with his own once-deft hands, buying useless time before his inevitable judgement?

When he wakes up it is only a brief moment of respite from the dream as clear-cutting pain reminds him of his immortality. Sleep comes with the soothing promise of comfort, but also with the knowledge that it will not be restless.

Later he joins the Stellaron Hunters, gets taken in despite being on the brink of insanity. Feels the frenzy slipping away with Kafka's words, feels the understanding leave his mind. Turns him into a docile puppet, waiting for the next command. He names himself Blade. She gives him the first genuine rest he's had in seven hundred years.

His senses are diluted with her influence, not enough to render him completely useless, but enough to clear his mind. It's mostly just his sight that's a problem, and it's easy enough to counter with his other senses. The other one is touch, but he doesn't expect that to really be important. He does most of his hunting with a sword anyways, distanced enough from his prey.

He's never gone back to the Luofu personally. Once or twice through the years he hears news of its whereabouts, and soon has those reminders taken from his mind, rendering his sleep dreamless yet again.

He doesn't go back because he's not done hunting.

But at some point it was bound to happen, the meeting of three tragic sinners and that other guy who was also there.

A mission brings him back to the Luofu, and he doesn't complain because his mind is too empty to think. He tries to think of himself as just a simple vessel to help Elio carry out his plot. A stagehand for the endless show that they try to put on. It's quite nice, being like this, the desperately needed reprieve from the eyes that always try to crawl their way back into his brain. It's not easy to forget once your body has learned.

Kafka says the mission went well. Elio says he can break the tether now. He doesn't remember any of it, except from the brief moment of clarity when Jing Yuan asked him if he was done, and then the consciousness when he wakes up later.

Jing Yuan looks the same now as he did all those years ago, except for the young shadow he keeps at his side. He's still just as radiant as the sun, the center of everything he joins. Of course a comet like himself was never meant to stay long in Jing Yuan's orbit. The sun does not need to change when a dirty snowball cuts through its orbit after centuries of desolation in the universe; the sun burns bright on its own, without a need for a secondary light.

None of them are, were, like that, just a product that reflected their surroundings instead of the magnetic core that shaped their era. Maybe that's why they're all criminals wandering the stellar seas now, shot out from the gravity well and driven by their own definitions of the hunt.

But eventually he feels the searing pain start to fade when he chokes awake on drying blood, glances over at the dissolving bodies next to him. The eyes can no longer see. Kafka helps with her lightning, and soon the only physical links left are those burning wounds inside his brain.

Between puddles of blood and dripping black stone he wakes up, and the night grows deeper but the streetlights start burning. He collaborates, strangely, with Dan Heng (a new trailblazer) to force Jing Yuan back into his bed. He sees the artificial sunrise a few times, occasionally with Kafka, and sometimes just on his own. The sight of a celestial object rising behind the clouds has been one he's not seen for a while, even if it is still a false sun.

It's done, the dream has an end. The hunt is over, its conclusion long since found.

He meets the one who couldn't let go in the waking world, both of them more alive than they should be. Neither of them deserve to be here, yet they sully the Luofu with their presence anyways, carving and gouging out a place where they no longer belong.

She meets him with the same intensity she always carries, unable to be diminished by time or a dream's veil, and he feels alive as they dance the familiar battle once again, for what may be the last time. Unlike the cycles before them, this time it feels like a breaking of bonds, like something being set free.

On the last night of his stay on the Luofu he ends up at Jing Yuan's family home after he manages to separate from the dream, and he's lucky that Jing Yuan still stays here even after seven hundred years. Conveniently, Dan Heng mentions that Yanqing would be dragging the Luofu's heroic trailblazer on some sort of sword-hunting adventure on that day.

"Yingxing," Jing Yuan says when he enters civilly through the window, "please stop dripping blood on the floor."

It's that name that breaks him into the clearest state of mind he's had for centuries. That and the newfound control over his own mind, now that the moon no longer watches him. Jing Yuan still sounds the same, calls him with the same tone of voice. When's the last time anyone's referred to him as Yingxing? When's the last time he's been able to hear that name without his consciousness slipping through the cracks?

"Jing Yuan," he responds, and he's suddenly aware of the winds outside, carrying with them a fine mist of pollen that coats everything in a layer of grit, sticking to the drying blood on his clothes. He's aware of the artificial moonlight that gazes into the room, blue in tone and so much softer than the harsh orange red in his sleep. He can feel the silence of the home, where four others once gathered and where only one stays now.

"That's not my name."

The dream tries to call to him, but its voice is quiet here.

Jing Yuan reclines on the mass of pillows he calls a bed, and when he shifts he can hear the sound of feathers scratching at their confinements. He hears his pulse in his head, reviving nerves once thought to be dead, and he can feel the tingling sensation where it creeps through his limbs.

The air is cold where it hits his skin. It's been so long since he's been able to feel the temperature. He looks at Jing Yuan, and he can see the shine in his eyes, the strands of his hair where it was only a blurred image before. The world is clearer than it's ever been. It's like getting glasses. Do they still have those?

Jing Yuan grounds him in the present, the physicality distracting him from the broken link between his mind and that all-seeing eye disguised as the moon. The moon here on the Luofu is fake, as is the rest of the sky over most of the ship. The mara-stricken here do not scream as they claw at their faces, nor do they tear apart their prey with overwhelming strength.

He can touch and be touched now, acutely aware of the blood on his face, his body, his hands, the stains across the sheets and the fabric where he dares to rip them apart, but it doesn't matter in the moment. Cauterized wounds of foreign eyes that once grew inside his head start to make their presence known again, but they don't try to regrow. Flesh, not his own, knits itself together when he lets go, and the scent of iron permeates the air.

He's never been a particularly selfless lover. He bites down again.

"Ren," Jing Yuan says, quiet with an edge of something else. The false moon silently hangs behind the clouds, diffused into a hazy shower of light. The metallic taste of blood fills his mouth.

Jing Yuan is just as pliant for him now as he was centuries ago, body remembering and opening its vulnerabilities for him so readily. The heat in his head is easily ignored in favor of the heat beneath his hands. It's easy to get lost in the chase to consume and feed, but he reins himself in with the control he thought he'd lost a long time ago.

An Outsider, on equal ground with the Luofu's general, if only for one night. An Outsider, carving his own mark into the Xianzhou's history.

He finds Jing Yuan again after all these centuries, and he's still just as passionate as he's always been, fervent energy and primal fear driving him deeper into the desperate desire to stake a claim of his own.

[alternatefandom]

at the end of this starbound path (i will be waiting for you) (4/4)

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail Pairing: Genfic, strong Jing Yuan/Dan Heng Summary: "Cease your tears, Dan Heng. For as long as I am in your care, I won't let this affliction get the best of me." "You can't promise that," Dan Heng said. He buried his face in Jing Yuan's shoulder, breathing in his scent, committing it to memory. "You don't know that." "But I do," Jing Yuan said. "Didn't you hear? They call me the Divine Foresight at Xianzhou. So, allow me to give this piece of foresight to you: when I do leave this mortal world, it will not happen on this train, when I am still under your care. That, I can promise you." - Freeing Dan Heng from the shadow of Dan Feng turns out to be far more complicated than just signing a pardon. Or: Jing Yuan takes a long-earned vacation amongst the stars, Dan Heng has an identity crisis, and Yanqing finally gets to wrangle criminals within his own paygrade. Link to Ao3

It all began with a simple piece of news.

The circumstances of its arrival were hardly notable. The Astral Express had been bustling with activity, its crew preparing for departure for the next world. Pom-Pom was rushing about, doing whatever conductors do on trains as mysterious as this one. Himeko was sitting on a table, poring over train schedules and supply lists, and Welt was quietly discussing routes and planetary conditions with her.

On the table, the radio crackled away, ignored.

March and Stelle were clustered by the window, taking a last look at the grand Xianzhou ship. The two had greatly enjoyed their time on the Luofu, and they were now chatting excitedly, trading pictures as they discussed the incredible events they had been involved in. Dan Heng did not partake in their conversation. His mind was too full of memories, particularly of the last time he’d left Xianzhou Luofu in a small starskiff, too many years ago to count.

Back then, he had left without taking a single glance back.

Breaking news from the Xianzhou Alliance, the radio announced, as if discontent with the utter distraction of its audience. Jing Yuan, the Arbiter-General of the Xianzhou Luofu, has been assassinated. Reports speak of unrest amongst the Vidyadhara—

"What???" March screeched. "But we just saw him a couple hours ago!"

"Why?" Stelle's eyes flicked to Dan Heng's. "He returned a hero. He risked his life to save the Luofu."

"Jing Yuan is the leader of an entire Xianzhou ship," Dan Heng said, suddenly feeling very tired. "A position like that comes with enemies. And... he’d been more injured than anyone could see."

Thanks to me, were the words he thought of but could not utter. The spear throw had been a precision strike; it had left no physical marks, but it had overloaded Jing Yuan's spiritual pathways badly enough to damage Phantylia in turn. Dan Heng had counted on the other Vidyadhara to restore him to full health, but...

...the Luofu Vidyadhara denied all involvement, the radio announced, almost mockingly. However, with the rise of the Dragon Palace as well as rumors of Imbibitor Lunae's exile—

Click.

Welt's finger remained firmly pressed upon the radio's power button, but his eyes were fixed on Dan Heng. "Do you wish to delay our departure?" he said. "General Jing Yuan had been... an ally. But with the assassination, we may end up being involved in Luofu's internal conflict again."

"If that happens, we might not get the opportunity to leave for quite some time," Himeko sighed. "Well, it's your home, Dan Heng. What do you think?"

"I..."

In his heart of hearts, he would like to stay. The Luofu had been home, and even though the Astral Express had taken up the role in all senses of the word, there was something within him that still longed to come back, like waves returning to shore. Inevitable. Inexorable. Everlasting.

And despite Jing Yuan's unwelcome arm-twisting at the Dragonvista Rain Hall, Dan Heng was aware that the man had always treated him as kindly as he could. Despite his displeasure at being made to bear another's sin, something in him understood—even sympathized—with Jing Yuan's concessions in the face of duty. What a glorious thing it must seem, to hold such power in your hand. What a heavy burden, to always weigh the lives of your people in your palm.

There are things that I wish I did not have to do, and yet, I must.

"I would like to pay my respects," Dan Heng said, quietly. "If at all possible."

"Then let's stay for a bit," March said. "We didn't do anything, after all. Nothing too bad should happen... right?"

"This feels like tempting fate," Stelle said. "But alright. Let's stay."

"Unnecessary," came a haughty female voice, "Take him with you. We'll see how much you feel like respecting him after you get involved in yet another one of his schemes."

Dan Heng turned. By the door was Fu Xuan herself, looking rather rumpled as she strode into the carriage. Her heels clicked against the floor in a tense staccato, and her lips were curled in displeasure. Behind her, she was dragging along a figure in a hooded brown cloak.

His face was covered in shadows, but Dan Heng would recognize those golden eyes anywhere.

"Lady Fu," Jing Yuan sighed. With one hand, he swept the hood off his head. "Must you?"

"I would apologize, General, but I have found you half-dead twice in this past week. While it is my opinion that you should retire as soon as possible, I would prefer that you do so through a less permanent method than death."

Relief crashed upon him in an unrelenting wave, and before he knew it, Dan Heng was rushing to their side. "Why is he not with a healer?"

"Because an unknown faction has recently infiltrated the Seat of Divine Foresight," Fu Xuan said. Her eyes met his, blazing gold. "The Vidyadhara—"

"—are occupied with their internal matters," Jing Yuan said. His lips curved into that familiar smile. "I'm afraid I will have to heal the old-fashioned way."

Together with Fu Xuan, Dan Heng guided Jing Yuan to the nearest seat. His heart sank as he noticed the wound on Jing Yuan's side, still bleeding sluggishly. Noticing the direction of his gaze, Jing Yuan gave him a small, reassuring smile. With a careless flick, the wound vanished under the cloak once more.

"I've put him on mandatory leave until he fully recovers," Fu Xuan said sourly. "So if the Astral Express could take him in, we would be in your debt."

"You could do that?" March wondered. "I thought he's your boss."

"He can't be anyone's boss when the entire Xianzhou thinks he's dead," Fu Xuan said. "And it's imperative that things remain that way. Considering that you have successfully sheltered Master Dan Heng until his return to the Luofu, I'm sure you won't have any trouble ensuring he rests undisturbed."

"I've always wanted to become a galaxy ranger," Jing Yuan mused. "I guess joining the Astral Express means that I got to fulfill my childhood dreams, at the end."

Fu Xuan's lips thinned. Her next words were quiet, almost forlorn. "Enjoy your vacation, General."

Jing Yuan smiled gently. It didn't seem to reassure Fu Xuan in the slightest. "I will. More importantly, Lady Fu, my last edict..."

"I will see it done," she promised. Her eyes flickered over the Astral Crew's. "Thank you for your service, Pathstriders of Akivili. Until we see each other again."

Without waiting for a response, she turned around and strode out of the carriage.

"We haven't said yes, you know!" Stelle called out after her. In the distance, they could hear the train door slamming shut.

Under their feet, the Astral Express slowly whirred to life.

Read the rest on Ao3

[vidyadawn]

closed starter for @celesticlnstcrs

Dan Heng did not expect to return to the Xianzhou Luofu so soon - but he would be lying if he said he doesn't feel a spark of delight about it. His feelings about his former home have changed in many ways, though he's far from facing it without concern. The memories of his imprisonment and the loneliness and torment it brought are his constant companion, not unlike the shadow Dan Feng casts on his life, and no matter how warmly he might be welcomed now, or in the future, that fact will remain. But there are things to look forward to now, good memories to be made and hope to be had.

The Vidyadhara may remain divided about the former High Elder but Dan Heng intends to stay as far away from those politics as he can. What he seeks to connect to, if possible, is the every day life on the Luofu, its people - both his kind and the natives, and all the things he would have experienced if he'd been allowed to grow up freely. And to.. new friends, such as the General. Despite their complicated history and the conflict he instills in Dan Heng, he has been nothing but kind to him and so it shouldn't be too surprising that Dan Heng finds himself wishing for their paths to cross again.

He's taken a squad to Fyxestroll Garden, the area is still unsafe, they're informed by one of the guards at the gate to the Seat of the Divine Foresight when asking for an audience with Jing Yuan. They're given an estimate of when he might return and while March and the others decide to go for a stroll around the market Dan Heng chooses to wait in one of the nearby pavilions, making use of the time and quiet to sort his thoughts.

Luckily, it's not too long before the General returns, his soldiers in tow. The armors of some of them look like they've seen better days but Dan Heng can't tell if what he's seeing are signs of past battles or recent ones. It fills him with concern regardless as he recalls their fight against Phantylia not having been all that long ago, and the injury he caused to Jing Yuan in their effort to defeat her. "General--" he says loud enough to be heard but not wanting to shout across the street. He thinks to notice a limp in Jing Yuan's step but he might be imagining things in his worry.

With a few steps he catches up with him. "My companions and I arrived just an hour ago - we were told you're fighting off heliobi. --Are you alright? You look exhausted. Should I.. accompany you to Miss Bailu?"

[underratedbananawerewolf]

Fictober Day 31

Prompt 31: "It's not your fault."

Fandom: Honkai Star Rail

Rating: G

Warnings:  Mild spoilers for Jingliu’s character quest

Stelle was concerned. First that mysterious letter for Dan Heng had arrived and then he had vanished. Himeko had told her he had returned to the Luofu that required his attention so the woman had let it go. She knew that if Dan Heng needed any help from the Express crew, he would have asked for it.

Still, it didn't rid her of her concern. Anything involving those from his past was rarely happy and anybody he might be going to see casually, such as Bailu or Jing Yuan, wouldn't require a secret letter and a vague explanation about leaving. Not that she could do anything about it unless he called for help. The Luofu was a massive ship. He could have been anywhere.

Stelle opened the door to the Archives, stepping into the now dimly lit room. A flip of a switch brought the lights up and she made her way over to the data bank. It was late by now but she found herself too keyed up to sleep. Perhaps reading would help quiet her thoughts enough to rest.

Was this what fear felt like? She didn't think so. Her friends and books had described the feeling of a knotted stomach, racing heart and an inability to think of anything. All she felt was worry over Dan Heng's wellbeing, hoping he was safe. Jing Yuan had revoked his exile but there were enough people who remembered his last incarnation. With a sigh she pulled up a number of entries on legends of the Xianzhou. Her friend might not have had much personal experience with the culture of his homeland but anything written down he had incorporated. She liked to think that her tendency to scavenge for anything that looked interesting contributed to his "dragon hoard"

Settling into the one chair in the room, she sat back to read. She must have dozed off given that she seemed to have lost some time since she had last seen the clock. It was very late, the lights once again dimmed from the lack of activity. Glancing about it was obvious that Dan Heng had yet to come home. What had woken her then if not the entrance of the room's resident?

Her phone pinged. Oh. That's it. Picking it up she squinted at the message and blinked in surprise. She knew that icon. Jing Yuan. Why was he texting her at this hour?

I'm sorry about my mentor's rude entry.

Mentor? Wait, hadn't she read something about this? Still staring at the messages Stelle struggled to coax the memory out of her mind. A name fluttered into view; the High Cloud Quintet, the Luofu's best warriors that had decimated any abomination of the Abundance. She knew that Jing Yuan was the last member that had managed to keep himself intact. Dan Feng had been another with Blade's former self alongside him. Another name fluttered in her mind's eye. Jingliu. The Trailblazer's eyes widened in realization. Jingliu, the previous Sword champion of the Xianzhou, erased from the records for her crime and Jing Yuan's mentor. But wasn't the woman dead? How, no, why had she come aboard long enough to drop off a letter for one of her former friends? Probably nothing good.

The hiss of a door brought her out of her thoughts and she looked over. Dan Heng stood there, looking absolutely exhausted. He so rarely showed what he was feeling that this heavy weariness was startling in its obviousness. Stelle immediately stood up causing the Vidyadhara to flinch back in surprise. He must have been beat if he hadn't noticed her immediately upon entering.

"Dan Heng..." She called out softly, walking over to him. A hand reached out to take his hand and for once he didn't protest. Carefully she drew him into the darkened room, the door sliding shut. "Are you okay?"

"I..." He hesitated, looking down to see that his fingers had closed around hers. The tight grip had to hurt but none of that showed on Stelle's face or even the smallest flinch. He forced his hold on her to loosen. "I don't know."

Stelle led him over to where his bed lay, books still set in haphazard piles around it. Sitting down on the futon she encouraged him to follow her. It didn't take much encouragement given how weak his legs felt. He was home, safe in his usual sanctuary, and yet nothing could protect him from his thoughts.

"What happened?" She kept her hand in his, shifting close enough so he could feel her body heat even if their only contact was their joined hands.

His answer was slow in coming, halting as he tried to arrange his thoughts enough to convey the events. It was harder than he could ever have believed. "Jingliu returned. She...insisted on visiting places on the Luofu that she remembered."

"I thought she was..." Stelle trailed off

"She fled the Xianzhou but chose to return to turn herself in and atone for her crimes."

The woman with him considered that. In any other circumstance he might have silently labeled her as cute. As subtle as her expressions were he had learned to read them. When in quiet moments she always took the time to think about what anyone said to her, absorbing it into the emptiness that was her memory up until she joined the Express crew mere months before. When she did finally speak it showed that she had pieced some of the puzzle together. "She called you to say that you still need to atone."

"Yes." He had a clearer idea now of what Dan Feng had done, even if the memories were hazy at best.

"Why? You're not Dan Feng."

He shook his head and then shook it again. "It doesn't matter. It's still my burden to carry. I have to do..."

Stelle reached up and put her hand over his mouth, stopping him from talking. He recognized that stubborn look, the glint in those gold eyes as firm as any rock. Despite that firmness, her voice was soft as she lowered her hand. "It's not your fault, Dan Heng. You are not Dan Feng. You paid enough of a price for what he did. No matter what anybody else says, you don't have to atone for any past sin."

"..." He opened his mouth but when she raised hand again, he promptly closed it again before she could force silence from him.

"You can help fix what happened but that isn't the same as making up for doing something wrong."

A hint of a smile played about Dan Heng's lips despite the situation. "When did you get to be so wise about this?"

She smiled gently in return. "I know I have a lot to learn still but I know this much." She stepped forward to angle his head down just enough so she could kiss his forehead. "No matter what Jingliu, Blade, or whoever else says, Dan Feng's crimes aren't yours. Make things better, help those that he hurt, but don't let it turn into an obsession, okay?"

He sighed again, his eyes closing before he reached out and wrapped his arms around her to pull her into a hug. "I'll try, Stelle. Thank you."