#what was it that li lianhua said later?

[zishuge]

Do you have any candy? Give me a few pieces... Every time I come here, I bring him some. Mysterious Lotus Casebook (2023)

[bbcphile]

WIP Wednesday

Happy Wednesday! Have some more of LLH's POV, specifically, some lighthearted banter covering up some secrets and a whole lot of angst.

(You can find earlier excerpts here.)

Li Lianhua opened his eyes, refusing to meet either of the sets fixed on him, and tried to scrape together whatever remained of his dignity. He scratched a spot by his nose and cleared his throat. “I know you and Xiaobao like to fight, but don’t you think using my qi to blast him across the room is a touch excessive?”

A-Fei scoffed, an eye roll made audible. “He was being annoying.”

Li Lianhua tsk’d at him. “You really must learn to control your temper, Di-mengzhu. What kind of example are you setting for him?” 

“Very funny,” Xiaobao said. Li Lianhua sneaked a look out of the corner of his eyes in time to watch that bright mock smile fade into an impressive pout. “As if we didn’t all know how impressive a-Fei’s rein on his temper is.”

Li Lianhua blinked at him. Xiaobao sounded almost offended on a-Fei’s behalf. What on Earth had happened while he’d been asleep that could have wrought a change like that? He risked a glance at a-Fei to see how he was taking it. It was hard to see with his vision this blurry, but a-Fei’s eyes looked slightly narrowed and from the set of his jaw, it looked like he was deliberately trying not to react. So either he was surprised, too, or he was looking for the catch.

“That is,” Xiaobao continued, a mischievous glint lighting up his face, “as long as it doesn’t involve doors.”

A-Fei rolled his eyes. “I didn’t have a key. And my arms were full.”

“That’s no reason to step on them! Twice! And right on the design!”

A-Fei shrugged. “It was in the way.”

“What doors? What design?” Li Lianhua asked, straining his eyes to try to bring any of the entrances to his home into focus. “My doors? But they don’t have locks!”

“They do now,” a-Fei muttered. 

“Xiaobao? Care to explain?”

“I just didn’t want anyone to break in! I didn’t realize he’d blast it off its hinges instead!”

“Your lack of imagination is not my fault.”

“Hey!”

Li Lianhua rubbed at the bridge of his nose as though to ward off a headache and tried not to smile. It was a relief to have these two bicker again. “Alright, alright,” he said, waving a hand to dismiss the argument and trying and failing to suppress another smile as they instantly stopped to listen to him. “Just fix it later, alright, a-Fei?”

The atmosphere instantly changed. A-Fei’s expression became a neutral mask and Xiaobao’s eyes darted anxiously between a-Fei and Li Lianhua.

“I can do it,” Xiaobao said, plastering on an incredibly unconvincing smile. “I had started it earlier anyway, so I don’t mind finishing.”

 Li Lianhua’s stomach sank. “And why exactly are you fixing it if Di-Mengzhu broke it? Shouldn’t he take responsibility?”

Xiaobao hesitated, glanced guiltily at a-Fei, then held his sword more tightly. “He was . . . busy. Keeping you warm while you both slept. So I volunteered.”

Li Lianhua’s heart began to race. Xiaobao had never taken on a-Fei’s chores before, not once in the months the three of them had lived together. If a-Fei had ever convinced Xiaobao to do so, he would have gloated about it. Insufferably. And for a-Fei to even consider sleeping while Xiaobao was still awake and moving about, something was very wrong. 

Something that would have affected a-Fei’s health to such an extent that he needed to sleep in front of others and was too weak to repair a door.

He pushed his rising panic down, along with images of the the spiritual cave snakes, shriveled and dead from his poisonous blood, of Li Xiong, groaning and twitching in pain as Bicha coursed through his veins from receiving Yangzhouman, and pasted on his own innocent smile. “Really? So very generous of you, Xiaobao!”

Xiaobao’s answering grin was a touch too bright to be believable. “That’s me! Always ready to help.”

“Naturally,” he agreed, nodding. He waited until they both relaxed, until some of the suspicion lurking in a-Fei’s posture had waned. “And why exactly does a-Fei need help?”

A-Fei froze.

[difeisheng]

重逢

Fang Duobing thinks he sees him, one last time. All light and motion that doesn't stir the breeze, perched at the edge of Fang Duobing's bed, cloaked in white like the moon shining on his form through the window. If he would have dared to look upon him just a moment longer, Fang Duobing would have seen him smile. Warm like jade, set there like a sculpted figure. More distinct than the silhouette blurred on the back of Fang Duobing's eyelids when he curls away into the cradle of lingering sleep, the steady weight of Di Feisheng at his back. The weight that, still asleep with even breath though a dagger reflecting the stars lays beside him, tells Fang Duobing whoever he perceives cannot be any more real than a dream.

They're the only places the people he calls ghosts can ever find him.

Ghosts they are, ghosts they will remain, slipping through his fingers no matter how he grasps, and so Fang Duobing closes his eyes against the not-presence of Li Lianhua. Against hope he's too bone-tired to stoke back to life, whether in the world of sleep or waking. It's easier, in the darkness, where he can tell himself he's made his peace with absence and the world cannot fold itself around empty shape before him to deny it.

A breath falls against Fang Duobing's ear, more than A-Fei can be. He doesn't feel the bed dip with one's movement, but he does, more than hears, the faintest exhaled note of laughter against his skin. He does not open his eyes.

Something more deliberate than air brushes at his hair, stroking a loose strand out of his face. It's the puppetry of his own exhaustion and the wind, however his subconscious has chosen to make sense of it, Fang Duobing thinks. A dream, or an illusion, or whatever you might call this, is an unreliable thing. The joke is that you never realize as such until reality reclaims its place.

The amused laugh comes again, more whisper than can be wind. And then, in a silent night, more voice than whisper. "Zai jian, Fang Xiaobao."

He's too close, too easy to believe in, words at Fang Duobing's ear. Too easy to reach for with the soft touch to his forehead, a moment's impression of a kiss.

It is the teasing cruelty of it, the sting of the short-lived, that forces Fang Duobing to finally open his eyes. Only the moonlight is there to greet him.

Only he is there to call himself, for the thousandth time and with no other words left, a fool.

(They're not the last ones Fang Duobing hears that night, though he barely registers the rest. Later, caught on the precipice between sleep and the final ray of consciousness, bleeding away.)

(Despite that, he does know, with as much certainty as he knows he lives and breathes, whose voice it was.)

(He knows what Li Lianhua said.)

(Dui bu qi.)

~*~

In the morning, something lays cushioned in Fang Duobing's open palm. A hairpin, fine in detail. Two lotus pods, twisted together at the stems, down a curved, entwined line.

Seeds of rebirth. Restart. A signifier of a new life begun, and so the old, the dead, must have said their farewell. The weight of this pin, once worked through another's hair by his own hand, is far more than its delicacy in Fang Duobing's hold.

He realizes with a start, the sun dawning on a day like any other, where he will find Li Lianhua again.

When.

~*~

Not in this lifetime.

~*~

The knowledge is, in its quiet ache, a comfort.

[eirenical]

WiP Wednesday

I made it by an hour! A nod to @bbcphile who helped me figure out which scene to post and for always being super supportive. ^_^

This bit takes place after Li Lianhua has had a bad Bicha flare-up. He wakes up in Di Feisheng's arms and instincts overrides common sense for a little while before Di Feisheng puts a stop to the proceedings. This little tete-a-tete happens as part of a much longer discussion after that disaster.

[Other snippets posted, not necessarily in order.]

*

Silence returned, slipping between the cracks in the Lotus Tower's walls and stealing Li Lianhua's breath along with his will to fight one more fight.

"…I'm sorry."

Li Lianhua looked up, finally meeting Di Feisheng's gaze across the disheveled covers.  Flatly, he said, "…you're sorry."

Di Feisheng sat back, all of his limbs properly in their own space again, a wince dancing about his features as his hands found each other in his lap, an uncharacteristic burst of fidgeting capturing Li Lianhua's attention as completely as his words did a moment later.

"I shouldn't have—"

Li Lianhua overrode him, a bite in his words joining the flush in his cheeks.  "You shouldn't have what, Di-mengzhu?"

Abruptly, Di Feisheng was still once more, his undivided attention narrowing in on Li Lianhua's words.  "I thought we were past that."

Li Lianhua crossed his arms over his chest, turning to look out the window.  There was frost on the ground.  He'd have to get the rest of the harvest in and prepare to leave, to seek out warmer climates that wouldn't tempt the Bicha out of hiding so easily.

If Di-mengzhu would let him.

A soft growl laced through Di Feisheng's next words.  "Li Xiangyi…"

A snort.  "It seems neither of us is past that, then."

Li Lianhua could tell the exact moment when Di Feisheng considered reaching for him with injuring intent… and decided against it.  Li Lianhua can't handle rough treatment, after all.  Li Lianhua can't handle the simplest of chores on his own without help.  Li Lianhua can't do any of the things Li Xiangyi could do with such ease.  Li Xiangyi was an object of worship of admiration of desire and Li Lianhua was only to be pitied.  Li Lianhua couldn't bear that look one moment longer and turned away.  Quietly he said, "I'm going to ask you one last time, Di-mengzhu.  What do you want of me?"

"I've told you that already."

"To stay by my side."

"Yes."

"Just that and nothing more."

"Yes."

"That will be enough for you, will it?"

"Yes."

Li Lianhua shivered at the finality in that tone, arms raising to wrap around his own torso as he shook—from the cold or from something else, he could no longer say.  "What if that isn't enough for me?"

Li Lianhua startled at a sudden movement beside him, only settling when the fallen blanket was draped over his shoulders once more.  He pulled it tight, crossing the fabric over itself at his neck and tucking the ends underneath the blanket on his lap.  It helped, but not nearly as much as the furnace of Di Feisheng's body under the covers with him had.

Di Feisheng met his gaze and held it.  Like a moth to a flame, Li Lianhua couldn't look away.  "Then what, Li Lianhua, do you want of me?"

For a moment, their gazes locked, frozen in place as each held their breath.  The easy lie was right there, sitting on the tip of his tongue, ready to lash forth like a whip against this fragile moment.  Safe.  Protective.  Li Lianhua could cut his losses and run.  Right now.  He just had to say the words.

He couldn't say the words.

Instead, Li Lianhua gave in to the shivering, small thing in his chest that just wanted to feel warm, even if only for a moment, to the sheer unadulterated need that had fluttered through his stomach more times than he could count since Di Feisheng had walked back into his life.  And he said those words instead.

"I want you to want me the same way you wanted him."

"Him?"

"Li Xiangyi." 

[cheetahing]

a kiss out of envy or jealousy fic meme fill from discord. yes, there's almost definitely a threesome later. no, i'm probably not writing it.

*

upon stepping out of lotus tower on the thirteenth anniversary of the donghai battle, li lianhua registers three things at once: the moon is very bright, there is someone in the clearing wearing the flashy white and red of his own old sigu sect garb, and he is kissing di feisheng. "what's going on here?" li lianhua says, voice sharper than he means it to be. understandable, when one comes upon a stranger kissing one's husband.

li xiangyi — because that's indisputably who it is, once his face is visible — pulls away with a scowl, clearly displeased at being interrupted. di feisheng, for his part, looks faintly bemused. "what does it look like i'm doing?" li xiangyi says, chin lifted challengingly.

"kissing my husband," li lianhua says, tone acidic. "and you!" he turns to di feisheng, whose face is so carefully blank that he must want to smile, the jackal, "why were you letting him?"

"well, he wanted to kill me for your shixiong's body," di feisheng says, the corner of his mouth quirking in a way that's probably only visible to li lianhua, "so i had to explain a few things to him."

li lianhua turns back to li xiangyi. "and that made you kiss him why?"

"i don't see why only you should get to," li xiangyi says crossing his arms. "i have as much a right to him as you do."

"you do not," li lianhua cries. "you don't know what we've been through!"

"i do too, he told me," li xiangyi says.

"not all of it," di feisheng says.

li lianhua levels a finger at him, "you're enjoying this!"

di feisheng raises his hands placatingly, but li xiangyi cuts in before he can say anything. "why shouldn't he?" he says, "you can't even fight him anymore."

li lianhua sways like he's been struck, vision going white with fury. di feisheng is by his side before he can blink the anger out of his eyes, hand on his elbow holding him steady. "xiangyi?" he says softly and li lianhua shakes his head.

"you little brat," he says, waving a finger at li xiangyi. "just like always, you know nothing!" li lianhua grabs at di feisheng, pulling his head down and kissing him soundly. he feels di feisheng's eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones in surprise but he relaxes into it easily, lips parting for li lianhua's tongue. kissing di feisheng is familiar and comforting, and li lianhua loses himself in it for a moment before he remembers he's supposed to be teaching someone a lesson and pulls back.

li xiangyi looks like he's bitten into something sour. "well, whatever," he says. "you just have more practice than me right now, that's all." he turns and stalks up the steps of lotus tower like he owns it, ignoring hulijing's inquisitive bark. "i'm going to find something to eat."

"good luck," di feisheng mutters, but his gaze is soft when li lianhua turns to glare at him. "don't worry," he says, cupping the side of li lianhua's face tenderly. "i won't leave you. not even for a younger version of yourself."

"who said i was worried," li lianhua says with a sniff, eyes cutting away to hide the way his heart is full and trembling.

"i do still want to fight him, though," di feisheng says thoughtfully, and li lianhua swats at his face.

[rageprufrock]

Sneak Peak: Untitled Mysterious Lotus Casebook Fan Fic Because I Make Bad Decisions And Don't Sleep Enough

Instead of sleeping last week, I watched Mysterious Lotus Casebook. And instead of sleeping next week, I expect I will be working on this Mysterious Lotus Casebook fan fic.

It takes Li Lianhua almost an hour to claw his way out of his own grave. 

It’s another shichen before Li Lianhua manages to drag himself out of the yawning arms of the earth. His legs shake, his arms shake; the air that expands his lungs hurts going in and breathing out. But no matter how meticulously he catalogs his suffering, each revelation is disquietingly ordinary: he’s thirsty, he’s tired, his body hurts from immobility–from very recent death. He feels staggeringly, unfathomably alive.

Gasping, dizzy with some sizzle of power still shivering out of his bones, he props himself up against his own funeral stele and realizes that he can no longer feel the necrotic, rotting hunger of the Bicha poison, and–when he looks around, across the sweeping mountains, toward the misted pink of dawn–that he had been buried, lavish, in the private family cemetery of Tianji Manor. 

When he’d died, when he’d discarded the last of his worries, cut all the vermillion silks and half-formed hopes that had buoyed him, Li Lianhua had given himself to the sea. He remembers the bitter bracing salt of the water, the forgiving lap of frozen waves, how he’d buckled—left, then right knee—the jade colored water closing over him, absolving. He remembers the searing ice of the ocean, the swirl of his worn linen clothes, the weight of his cloak at first suffocating and then nothing, nothing at all.

Now, Li Lianhua takes one step after another through a greener sea, a canopy of late summer leaves, marveling at his robes of emerald silk brocade, embroidered gold with gold and silver threads–flawless on the right and wrong sides of the fabric, as soft as new grass under his fingertips. Now, he listens to the trilling of magpies, spies the velvet ears of half-hidden rabbits, the fleeting russet flanks of swift-moving deer, feels the soft veil of summer light, smells honeysuckle and the petrichor of recent rain. 

He crosses a brook, through the forest as it thins to a glade and in the distance now, Li Lianhua can see the curled-up roofs of a home he barely knows, and that is at once as familiar and well-loved as its young master. 

“Xiaobao-ah,” he says, the first words he’s said out loud, his voice a startling rasp, rattling out of his chest, “what on earth have you done?” 

A little while later, when he’s being thrown ass over elbow into the street by a full phalanx of Tianji Hall’s most ferocious enforcers, Li Lianhua realizes the answer to his question is, ‘plague me in my second life, just as he did the first.’ 

***

Getting from Tianji Manor to the headquarters of the Bai Chuan Court takes more than a week, a journey funded by strategically pawning off a jade thumb ring he’d acquired sometime between dying at the shore and waking up buried in a fucking mountainside. 

Along the way, he buys a set of less ostentatious robes so that people stop trying to rob him like a guileless fop and hears no fewer than two dozen stories–each more absurd than the last, which is frankly astonishing given the truth–of his death and resurrection and death again. At least three of them include morally questionable methods of yang energy application, and a woman who sells him a skewer of tanghulu assures Li Lianhua that a friend of a cousin heard from a reliable source that Li Xianyi had managed his miraculous revival as a result of a profound bond with his martial rival and marital match, Di Feisheng. It leaves him speechless with horror for a full 30 seconds before he implores her to stop spreading the story, because sooner or later Di Feisheng will hear about it and raze her entire village to ashes. 

“Now, everyone knows the heroic story of Li Xiangyi’s death and resurrection and death again,” says an old storyteller at an inn the next night. 

Around him, the crowd gathered close and eager to hear over the sound of a roaring storm outdoors, the wind and sleeting rain too dire for any more travel that night. Li Lianhua is hiding in a back corner on his second jug of wine, still far too sober for another, ever more fabulist recounting of his so-called adventures. 

“But tonight,” the storyteller goes on, “I want to tell another story, one of a legend in the making: a most tragic romance–” 

“Thank God,” Li Lianhua murmurs to himself.

“–For while the story of Li Xianyi is well known,” the old man says, “that of his second love with the young master of Tianji Hall is not.”

Li Lianhua chokes on his wine. “What.” 

“Now listen as I tell you of a remarkable young man, a brilliant scholar, a refined gentleman, and a generational martial arts talent,” the storyteller invites. “And so passionate in his devotion to Li Xiangyi that he turned down the hand of a princess to wander the jianghu in mourning, as faithful as a widow.” 

“What?” Li Lianhua asks again. 

By the end of his tale of woe, there’s not a dry eye in the inn and Li Lianhua has progressed through two further jugs of wine, too mortified and then too drunk to go anywhere or do anything about the abject slander he’s hearing. 

At no point during any of the cases he’d investigated with Fang Duobing had anybody made any stoic declarations of unwavering devotion during any driving snowstorms, and they were both far too skilled with their weapons for any cutting of sleeves, accidental or otherwise. There had been an extended interlude on how–as they were both dutiful men, and having honorably severed any other previous betrothals–they’d engaged one another in a match of swords that had progressed into a dance of the clouds and rain. It speaks well on the miraculous nature of whatever sorcery had revived him that Li Lianhua does not immediately vomit blood and expire again. 

It’s dawn by the time the storm lets up enough for the storyteller’s captive audience to disperse into the city, and Li Lianhua staggers out of the inn a shattered ghost of himself. He hitches a ride with a farmer traveling two cities over, toward the place where where the provincial border is drawn by a fast-moving river, and along the way he reflects that with this additional information, it makes much more sense that all the loyal attendants and members of Tianji Hall had taken one look at him, threatened his life, and violently chased him off property. Nevermind Di Feisheng–He Xiaohui will kill him first for allegedly dishonoring her precious son, and Fang Duobing will be stuck with the tedious work of burying Li Lianhua all over again, which feels churlish given how thoughtfully Xiaobao appears to have done it the first time. 

In another life, with the privilege and the right to such sentiments, Li Lianhua would be outraged with anybody at the root of such defamations against his lone disciple. In this one, where Li Lianhua is only–with extraordinary reluctance–willing to admit to another living soul he has any sort of affection or sense of responsibility toward Fan Duobing, it is of course fitting and just that he is the source of said defamations, and will likely suffer untold tortures for his part in sullying Fang Duobing’s reputation. 

At the river, he buys passage on a boat and stares out at the steamy gray-green of the fog over the banks, the way that the sun paints the surface of the water a blushing pink. It is, just as he remembers from his final walk to the sea, all so very, very beautiful. He closes his eyes to focus on the susurration of water against the flanks of the boat, to feel the damp wind against his face, the way it blows the loose strands of hair back from his face, how it catches in the rough-spun collar of his hastily purchased robes. He can hear the other passengers telling stories, exchanging gossip, the sound of someone snoring as their journey brings them from the chill of morning into the hot sun of high noon. 

A shichen later, the boat is being pulled in toward a little cluster of docks, and Li Lianhua disembarks into the a marketplace transitioning from its daytime of vegetable sellers and grain merchants to its nightly amusements of street food stalls and performers setting up their stages. And by the time it takes for him to navigate the dozen li to the front gates of Bai Chuan Court, it’s nearly full dark, lanterns orange-bright against the midnight blue evening. 

Li Lianhua is sweaty, filthy from travel, and ravenous, and it is only the certainty that if he evades the guards and arrives unannounced in the receiving room, someone will think he is a ghost that has him bothering with the heavy brass knocker at all. 

When the terrified guards bring him to Ji, Yun, and Bai, they think he’s a ghost anyway. 

“Sect Leader Li, I’m sure you can understand that we must investigate your miraculous return. Again,” Shi Shui tells him, at once peerlessly respectful and with absolute disapproval. “Although this certainly contextualizes some recent events in the Capital.”

Li Lianhua smiles ruefully. “I have a theory that useless disciple of mine may have overreached.” 

Shi Shui scowls, not at the words or even at the thought of Fan Duobing, but very clearly and directly at Li Lianhua. It’s absolutely terrifying. 

“Well, if overreach was what brought you back to us, then Fang-gongzhi’s seven days of fasting at your funeral would have had you here three years ago,” she tells him, matter-of-fact and utterly gutting, before she waves for one of the junior disciples. “Ye’er, send a runner to Fang Manor–I’m sure the investigators and doctors there will need to know of this latest development.”

Li Lianhua tenses. “Doctors? Investigators?” 

Shi Shui slants a look toward him, watchful. “According to our network, seven days ago, Fang-gongzhi was grievously injured, and hasn’t regained consciousness since–seven days, that’s when you say you escaped death once more, if I remember correctly?”

“Yes,” Lianhua croaks, remembering all the hundreds and thousands of small and seismic ways that Fang Duobing had tried to save him in their months together, imagining Xiaobao in roughspun mourning, honoring a ghost in a way so intimate and harrowing it shames Li Lianhua to acknowledge it, to know how well he was loved. 

“Quite a coincidence,” Shi Shui says, acid, and tells the doctors, “You had better do some painful, invasive testing on him–just to ensure it’s really Sect Leader Li, of course.”

Li Lianhua gets about as far as saying, “Ah–that’s–” before the doctors, clearly reading the room, swarm him armed with bitter medicines, silver needles, and accompanied by a shaman who’d been summoned in a cacophony of shrieking that should have been beneath three of the four hallowed directors of the almighty Bai Chuan Court. 

[the-wintry-mizzenmast]

笛花 Dihua/Feihua prompt fill for @magicknightriderjellyfish02 Still riding that burst of inspiration in the groupchat from @lyselkatz's post-canon fanart of silver-haired Li Lianhua and bearded A-Fei.

[How the beard thing became permanent part of their life and llh's reaction towards it, esp when they are intimate with each other]

-----

“That tickles!” giggled Li Lianhua the first time that Di Feisheng scraped the unshaven stubble of his chin across the smooth surface of his husband’s thigh. 

He would have shaved earlier in the morning had it not been for Li Lianhua’s imperious demand that he come back to bed, and between those vigorous morning activities and everything else they’d done during the day, Di Feisheng had simply forgotten. From the way that Li Lianhua’s cock swelled in response to the new texture, it did not seem that it was unwelcome. So Di Feisheng rubbed his chin and jaw once more against his husband’s skin, before taking him into his mouth. 

“Growing your beard out, hm?” asked Li Lianhua the next day during breakfast, noting that his husband had eschewed shaving again. 

“Is that going to be a problem?” 

Li Lianhua reached out a hand, rubbing a thumb across his chin. “No,” he replied, the sunlight glinting off his silver hair lending his smirk a particularly mesmerizing glow. 

Di Feisheng leaned into his husband’s caress, turned his head to kiss his palm, and then breakfast was soon forgotten. 

Two weeks later, Fang Duobing positively yelped the moment he stepped past the threshold of Lotus Tower. 

“What is that thing on Lao Di’s face?”

“A beard,” Di Feisheng replied. “You’d know what it was if you could grow one.”

Fang Duobing made a strangled noise of protest and took a threatening step forward, forcing Li Lianhua to intervene. 

“You can’t possibly like that,” Fang Duobing accused, pointing at Di Feisheng’s face over Li Lianhua’s body, which was positioned squarely between the two of them. 

“Actually, I like how it feels,” said Li Lianhua with a saucy grin. 

Fang Duobing made a small noise of revulsion as the images of what the old fox meant rose unbidden in his mind. 

“It lends him quite a distinguished air, don’t you think?” 

“He looks like my father.”

“Which one?”

“Both.”

And then Li Lianhua had to try a lot harder to keep his husband and his disciple apart, lest another wall in Lotus Tower collapse in the ensuing scuffle. 

It was late into the night, after Fang Duobing had fallen asleep upstairs, his breaths becoming quiet and regular, before Li Lianhua clamped both hands around his husband’s face, and drew it down for a kiss. 

It was a long time before Di Feisheng was allowed to pull away enough to speak. “If I’d known you’d like it this much I would have grown it out ages ago.”

Li Lianhua smiled and shook his head. “You’ve changed, A-Fei,” he said softly. “I’ve changed too,” he added, holding up a lock of his own silver-white hair for emphasis, the result of the dissolution of the Bicha poison. “I don’t think it would have fit you then, as Jinyuan Alliance Chief, but now? Anonymous Jianghu Wandering Uncle? I think it looks perfect.”

“Anonymous Jianghu Wandering Uncle?”

“Xiaobao’s not entirely wrong about the look.”

Di Feisheng growled, his expression darkening. “Come here, you.”

Li Lianhua laughed, gave his husband’s goatee a tug, and then melted into his arms. 

[travalerray]

Rewatching Mysterious Lotus Casebook 5/40

the intensity of his expression the moment Di Feisheng comes on screen......The bitter rage....(and perhaps some amount of heartbreak).

You Sure Did. Might want to name this dog of yours?

I wonder how he felt all those years....nursing a single hatred even after having given up on the rest. Biqiu? Forgiven. Zijin is barely in the picture. But man. Di Feisheng, who he had some sort of arrangement with, who supposedly went and had his shixiong killed.....and then he finds out that was a lie too. His shixiong isn't even dead. He's alive and he hates him. He has always.....hated him? All this time? What else did he miss?

What other people have been concealing emotions that he never realised?

.... interesting ranking.

sometimes you need to become your own matchmaker and cling onto your crush like a leech. Does it work? Well,

my favourite part about their conversations is when Li Lianhua tells something to Fang Duobing as an advice but you know he's rebuking his own self. Don't trust the wrong person, check the body, you can't live up to the expectations of others, people must learn to forgive themselves....etc.

Jiao Liqiao......honestly knowing the fact that she was the one who arranged the thundering bombs makes the conversation funnier.

DFS: Did you know about the bombs?

JLQ: Of course, of course! It destroyed parts of both Sigu Sect and Jinyuan Alliance! [Said as I, recall how meticulously I planned my yandere schtick by poisoning and blowing up people]

DFS: *stare*

"Those who betray me will become like these two corpses here, don't you agree" man I know that he doesn't really start to suspect JLQ until a little later but I wonder what he thought of the whole situation. He kills two people suspecting treachery, and perhaps the conversation between him and JLQ is really just to establish his character and to foreshadow her eventual death, but hm. Makes you think about how he trusted only the Four Kings since they established the Jinyuan Alliance together.

[hils79]

Hils Watches Mysterious Lotus Casebook - Ep 13

Well, them having a fight to the point where Shan Gudao quit the sect, and then got killed before they reconciled explains a lot about why Li Lianhua was so desperate to find his body

Aww Fang Duobing has been abandoned again. The poor puppy

You can't die until you're well enough for...ahem...our swords to come together again

Uh...that doesn't look like it's helping him

Oh no not more snakes

I'm not sure letting a magical snake feed on him is helping him get better either

Maybe Di Feisheng should have mentioned that before getting the Medicine Demon to try all these cures

There's a plant that will restore his martial arts powers but he'll die in agony a few days later

Di Feisheng: Yeah, I'm cool with that so long as he fights me first

Come on, my dude. I know you don't actually want him to die

I mean he has a point

Wait, what son?

HOLY FUCKING PLOT TWIST

What's that thing called when you're thinking about something and suddenly you see it everywhere? Frequency Illusion? Yeah, that's what's happening to poor Fang Duobing (IF THAT'S EVEN HIS ACTUAL NAME)

That last part was a joke but actually none of the main three are going by their actual names? Li Xiangui is Li Lianhua, Di Feisheng is A-Fei, Fang Duobing is...well, maybe that's the name his mother gave him before she died we don't know.

I hate him and it's his fault my life is so miserable but oh no he's in danger I must save him!

I'm sure you'll care about him too eventually you just need to get over the whole wanting to kill him to get to Li Lianhua thing

FANG XIAOBAO!!! Isn't that what his aunt said they called him when he was little? But again here we are back with everyone using different names again

He has very long eyelashes

Abandoned twice in one episode. This poor boy needs a hug

Plot twist! Not abandoned this time!

He's trying to see Shan Gudao in Fang Duobing. This poor traumatised boy

I thought that was going to get dragged out for longer. Yep, congrats Fang Duobing, you threw Di Feisheng into a pond full of corpses

This boy and his self-worth issues

Aww he really is Li Xiangyi's disciple now

I love them

[presumenothing]

random novel excerpts #5, because ofc i had to pull up my favourite wanmian bit upon seeing @difeisheng's post (this is book 2 ch 7, for those keeping score):

Qiao Wanmian did not answer. A long while later, she asked, softly: "Do you hate me?"

"I did, once." With a faint smile, he said: "There were a few years when I hated everyone."

She nodded, slowly; that she understood…

Only to hear him then say: "But now all I fear is that Xiao Zijin and Qiao Wanmian cannot stay together always, til death do you part."

She listened, the moment hanging still; nodding, again, before suddenly shaking her head: "You are not Xiangyi."

Li Lianhua smiled, so very light: "Indeed…"

Lifting her head, she looked dazedly at him, and said softly: "Xiangyi never forgave anyone."

Li Lianhua nodded. "Nor did he ever tend the garden."

The hint of a smile touched Qiao Wanmian's lips at last. "He never wore shabby clothes."

Li Lianhua smiled. "He almost never did sleep."

She exhaled a light sigh, tear tracks still damp on her face. "He always had unending matters to tend to, almost never slept, always had some enemy or other, excelled at spending money, was always ordering people around, sending them here and there and everywhere… but always managed to make a spectacular affair of it."

Li Lianhua sighed, and said almost to himself: "And here I am terribly broke, wanting nothing so much as a quiet place to sleep in, and without much enemies to name, either. Oh, yes – the two pots of rhododendrons in my room are in full bloom, it's quite the lively sight, do you want to see it?"

Qiao Wanmian was still smiling, faintly; in this moment it was as if her heart had woken to something open and bright, and those events of old that had weighed on her for ten years, those things she never could let go – all of it dissipated in this one moment. The man that stood before her was an old companion, a friend; even a maestro in his own way. "I'd like a look."

Li Lianhua straightened out his sleeves, and said apologetically: "Give me a moment."

Qiao Wanmian dried her tears on a sleeve, brushed the dust off herself, and abruptly felt her earlier self to be quite laughable. Seeing Li Lianhua hurry around the building to the dustpans with a wicker basket on his back, she couldn't help finding it funny – couldn't help but wonder: if Fu Hengyang came to know that Li Xiangyi had spent an entire afternoon tidying up the candles that he'd painstakingly arranged to proclaim the resurrection of Sigu Sect, what would he possibly think? But then she saw Li Lianhua waving her over before she could get any further, and so she followed.

On stepping into Li Lianhua's room, she looked at those two potted 'rhododendrons' for quite a while. Both pots boasted fresh yellow flowers, open in full and rich splendour; they had indeed been well and meticulously cared for, and were growing with much vigour.

But now Qiao Wanmian couldn't help but ask, after an age of staring: "These are rhododendrons?"

Li Lianhua paused, baffled, in his tracks. "Fang Duobing said they were… I dug them up from the foot of the mountain, there's a big patch blooming there."

Qiao Wanmian coughed faintly, and said with infinitely kind patience: "These are daylilies, the farmers plant them for… for… anyway, you'd better return them soon as you can."

"Ah." Li Lianhua stared at the 'rhododendrons' he'd been tending to for the better half of a month, and said with an air of apology: "I should've known rhododendrons don't bloom this large…"

Qiao Wanmian truly could not hold back any longer, and laughed aloud. Looking at those two pots of 'rhododendrons', their gazes met over smiles.

Outside, not too far away, a person stood atop the trees, and watched the two from a distance. That person wore golden-edged robes of purple, a figure regal and well-built; he would have been of handsome strength, save for the extreme paleness of his face as he stared dazedly at the pair in the room, unknown thoughts crossing his mind.

In the room, Li Lianhua looked at the daylilies he'd so diligently planted, and suddenly asked with great seriousness: "If the daylilies are already blooming, that means the weather is about to turn chill – are the winters cold up on this mountain?"

Qiao Wanmian paused in surprise. "Cold? Here?"

Li Lianhua nodded with great haste. "Does it snow?"

She gave an answering nod. "It snows."

He cringed faintly. "I don't like the cold."

She smiled. "Xiangyi never feared the cold."

Li Lianhua sighed. "I don't just fear the cold – I fear death, too."

[moondal514]

Just Leave a Comment Fest 2023 Holiday Edition

Final overall comment total for @justleaveacommentfest: 76

Here’s a very multi-fandom fic rec list of a few of the fics I read (reread in some cases), loved, and commented on that were on theme for each day of the fest:

Day 1: first fandom

(BBC Merlin is not technically the 1st fandom I was ever a part of, or even the 1st fandom I ever read fic for, but I do consider it my 1st real fandom because it’s the 1st fandom I interacted with as intensely as I interact with my fandoms now and it’s also the 1st fandom I ever wrote and posted fic for)

Fandom: BBC Merlin

Prick Love for Pricking by horsecrazy/ @cbk1000

In which Arthur and Merlin hook up at a sex party.

I haven’t felt the urge to read Merlin fic in years, but then I stumbled across this fic, which is honestly one of the funniest things I’ve read in a hot minute, and now my love for Merthur has reawakened within me with vengeance

And Down the River's Dim Expanse by horsecrazy

In which Arthur is a water spirit who tries to drown Merlin. Merlin is not impressed.

Literally obsessed with this fic from the second I read the 1st paragraph

Day 2: bookmark day

Fandom: All For the Game

never said that i didn't need you by incogneat_oh/ @incogneat-oh

"Aaron, are you ready to go? The emergency room queue isn’t getting any shorter.”

Aaron feels a thrill of nervousness pull unpleasantly in his belly. He doesn’t want to spend the night in a brightly-lit, overcrowded emergency room and have strangers prodding at him. He glances back at Andrew, who looks as disinterested as ever. He’s slouched over, hands in his lap and unmoving, face expressionless. He’s facing forward, but his eyes are on Aaron.

And Aaron’s halfway out the door when he swivels. Blurts, “You’ll come with me?"

--

Aaron and Andrew spend an evening hanging out in the emergency department.

One of my personal fave twinyard-centric fics

Fandom: The Historian

among some talk of you and me by Hokuto

Reader, I pray that you will have the strength to walk with me a little longer.

I remember when I 1st found this fic I was so shocked cuz I had no idea anyone had even written fic for this book, but this is literally a perfect little epilogue because it has everything I loved from the book (scholarly nerdiness, libraries, and Dracula)

Day 3: old favorites

Fandom: BBC Sherlock

The World on His Wrist by bendingsignpost/ @bendingsignpost

First, he is shot in Afghanistan. Second, he wakes to a phone call in Chelmsford, Essex. Third is pain, fourth is normalcy, fifth is agony and sixth is confusion. By the eighth, he's lost track. (John-centric AU)

An exceedingly old favorite of mine, like literally one of the 1st fics I ever read on ao3, but I just learned today that I had apparently never commented on it previously, which made it perfectly on theme for this day of the fest

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

When the Stars Threw Down Their Spears by umisabaku/ @umisabaku

"It’s hard to understand the hierarchy when a school like Nekoma exists, putting them all together like they belong, but by the time Kenma enters high school he understands the difference. Kuroo is a black panther, rare and precious; a large predator stronger than most any other foe.

Kenma is a calico housecat. His coloring is uncommon, but he is not special."

Shapeshifter!AU. Kenma struggles with a culture and the rules of courtship.

When I was in high school and at the peak of my sports anime phase, this was one of my fave fics, and so I loved revisiting it all these years later

Day 4: fandom curiosities

Fandom: Mysterious Lotus Casebook

Three Autumns by rageprufrock/ @rageprufrock

If Li Lianhua had known this mess would be waiting for him, he wouldn't have bothered to crawl out of his own grave.

The most I know of this show is what I’ve seen through a few gifs on my tumblr dashboard, but this fic made me fall so hard for the characters it’s not even funny

Fandom: Interview With the Vampire

hell and you by quensty/ @keithal

With respect to Daniel’s life, pain in the ass is spelled A-R-M-A-N-D.

I have read one (1) book and watched one (1) episode of the show, so I barely have any idea who these characters are, but holy shit this dynamic compels me

Day 5: rec a fic

Fandom: Mo Dao Zu Shi

a made thing by animediac/ @jaywalkers

Because at the end of it all, Wei Wuxian walks away with his happy ending and the rest of them are left with nothing.

(or, what comes after everything has gone)

Fantastic post-canon fic by one of the few writers that can make Chengsang convincing to me

Fandom: Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System

Life is (not) a Hallmark Movie by mellicindi/ @mellicindi

Shen Yuan isn't lonely. He's just overseas in a new city, trying to muddle his way through a business degree, and dealing with the side effects of his stupid intestines trying to kill him. So, maybe he sometimes watches ASMR to cope with his too-quiet apartment. Maybe he has a little bit of a parasocial-relationship-thing going on with one particular cooking ASMR channel. It's 2016, who doesn't? The point is, he's content with his quiet life.

And then Shang Qinghua strong-arms him into watching one Hallmark Christmas movie, and it all goes to hell.

Or: Shen Yuan is a Hallmark movie protagonist, Luo Binghe is a Lifetime movie protagonist, and somehow they make it work.

I sadly missed the read-along this year, but this fic has been on my tbr since pretty much as soon as I started reading fic for this fandom, so I got to finally read it and it’s really fantastic

-

As always, I’ll continue to comment on fics and show all you writers appreciation for your craft <3

[bbcphile]

WIP Wednesday

It's Wednesday, which means it's time for another excerpt from my Mysterious Lotus Casebook longfic!

This week, enjoy Fang Duobing trying to get Di Feisheng to take care of himself by explaining how it will help Li Lianhua take care of himself. (AKA. FDB's Caretaking 101 for DFS). (You can find earlier excerpts here.)

**

Fang Duobing sniffled, picked up the cloth once more, and got to work. At least the cabinet was almost blood-free. Only one stain left. 

“What did you mean about Xiangyi and help?” a-Fei asked on Fang Duobing’s third pass over the stain.

Fang Duobing’s hands stopped mid-scrub. Did a-Fei even have any caretaking experience? Either giving or receiving? Or had he just always used qi to heal everything, so recuperation was never an issue? Starting from the most basic level and working up to the question was probably the best move.

He started scrubbing the stain again, willing his hands and voice to be steady. “Li Lianhua will need rest, right? And sleep, and food, and medicine.”

“Obviously. He’s healing.”

Well, at least a-Fei knew that much.

“It took me a decade to recover from my duel with Xiangyi, Duobing,” a-Fei said, his tone as dry as the basin was wet. “I’m familiar with the process.”

A decade? So he really had been in seclusion all that time. Wait–Li Lianhua had injured him that badly and he wanted another duel? How did that make any sense? He mentally shook himself and tried to find the thread of the conversation again before he could spiral off in a different direction. “Alright. I’m assuming the Medicine Demon or someone was overseeing your healing. Did you actually follow his orders?”

“Of course,” a-Fei said, as though he were the sort of person to take orders from anyone.

He was kidding, wasn’t he? Fang Duobing craned his head over his shoulder to take a look. No annoyingly attractive smirk or eyebrow raised in challenge in sight. Huh. He’d try to make sense of that later. “Well . . . good for you,” he said, facing forward again. “Li Lianhua won’t. He wouldn’t even before the situation with his shiniang. It’s not only giving away qi he couldn’t spare to heal people. He tries to squirm his way out of receiving help all the time, and always pushes himself too far, long past any reasonable limit.” Sound like anyone else you know, a-Fei? “I don’t think he knows how to do things any other way. So instead of accidentally encouraging him to hurt himself, what if we do the opposite? Practice accepting help, even if we don’t need it to survive, so he feels less guilty about needing it?”

Silence. He forced himself to keep scrubbing and wait. If a-Fei needed time, then that’s what he’d give him.

“What are you suggesting?” a-Fei asked at last.

Fang Duobing blinked at the cloth in his hand. “Um,” he said, frantically casting around for something to follow it, as all his ideas fled. “It doesn’t need to be anything big. Simple things count. For instance, you could ask me to hand you something if it’s nearer to me. Or tell me to go away when you need alone time. And I could ask you to make me medicine if I wasn’t feeling well. Or meditate when we’re low on qi, sleep when we’re worn out. That sort of thing.” He winced internally. No wonder his Niang liked to say he was as transparent as water. 

Well, since he’d come this far, he might as well commit. “All I’m saying is that it might help Li Lianhua as well as yourself if you don’t try to push yourself to your absolute limit. Just because you can doesn’t mean you have to. Or that you should. And you don’t need to, because I’m here. And you shouldn’t if you don’t want Li Lianhua to think he needs to do the same thing. He deserves to rest. And if we can show him what that looks like, then isn’t that the responsible thing to do?”

A-Fei made a faint hum that could have meant anything from ‘excellent point, Xiaobao’ to ‘I think you’re an idiot.’

Who was he kidding? It was probably the latter.

Fang Duobing squeezed the handkerchief over the bowl. The water turned purple as the paint and blood mixed together. He waited.

No new sounds from a-Fei. Just the whisper of his fingers through Huli Jing’s fur.

Fang Duobing swallowed back a sigh. At least he’d tried. “I’m going to go dump this,” he said, standing up. “I’ll be back soon.” He started for the door.

“Wait.”

Fang Duobing stilled. “What?”

A-Fei stared at him for a long moment, something complicated lurking under his almost neutral expression. “Clean the blood off your face first,” he said at last.

“Oh. Good point.” He dug out his own handkerchief from his robe–the other one had splinters in it now–dunked it, and wiped it across his cheek. “Better?”

“Almost,” a-Fei said, pointing to a spot near his temple and another across his forehead.

Fang Duobing wiped wherever a-Fei pointed until he finally nodded his approval. “Thanks.” He was about to leave, but then the candlelight hit a-Fei’s cheekbone in exactly the right way to make the teartrack from earlier glisten. Of course a-Fei hadn’t taken the time to clean up, either. “Did you want to–”

A-Fei shook his head. 

So much for acknowledging limits or asking for help. “Right. Never mind.” He left without waiting for a response.

[mx-myth]

Writing Patterns

Thank you to @omgpurplefattie for the tag (or the equivalent thereof, lol)! I'll put the first sentences of my last ten ao3 works (in order of most recent posting to least recent) and see if I can tell any patterns. Because I want to I'll also put the last sentences because I know there are some patterns there.

01. i think want is in the shape of you (my can't have nice things fanghua post-canon piece)

He’s not supposed to be warm. 

In the dark, Li Lianhua admits to himself the words he can’t say yet: Fang Xiaobao, I want you.

02. only for you (dom4dom fanghua smut)

He curls his fingers in the hair at the back of his neck.

“Only for you,” He says as their lips meet, “Only for you, Lianhua.”

03. and they were underwater scientists (liansanjiao as underwater seahorse researchers)

Fang Duobing sighs.

“Come on, let’s go home.”

04. fool me thrice (liansanjiao modern au hilarious miscommunication on who's dating who)

Fang Duobing surfaces beside him and shakes the water out of his hair like a dog.

His love for their little life overflows, and he really couldn’t be happy without them.

05. wake (fdb starts wearing his hair like llh used to)

He starts wearing his hair like Li Lianhua’s.

“Do you see it now?” Di Feisheng whispers back, “Fang Xiaobao, you’re precious.”

06. got me riding that edge (swallow me down) (the liansanjiao fic I wrote because I learned what snowballing was)

Di Feisheng is going to be the death of him.

He gets a pillow to the face for his troubles.

07. five scenes with a cat (in which llh misses fdb and acquires a cat)

Li Lianhua is not worried.

And, because he can’t help himself, he says, teasingly, “You wouldn’t happen to know where my cat went, do you?”

08. let me too (my ultimate voyeur!llh fic)

Later he will remember how he’d bitten down into the flesh of his chest to muffle his whines.

“Okay fine, yes, you can watch again! Just stop talking about it!”

09. elegy sound (my ghost!llh fic)

When he wakes there is no sun.

“You said,” He says, smiling, “That if I could bring people back to life you’d take my family name. I think you and A-Fei should both be Li now.”

10. dress me up how you like it (fdb wears a dress and liansanjiao fuck horny about it)

By the time the package comes, three weeks and five days later, Fang Duobing has completely forgotten about the bet.

When he wakes up the next morning he has a splitting headache and no memories of the previous night, and from where he’s lying on top of Di Feisheng he can see Li Lianhua stumble through the door.

Patterns:

First sentences are usually a sensation, an action, or an emotion

Likewise they also tend to set up a central feature of the fic or at least some exposition

Last sentences usually summarise the whole of the fic neatly to tie it off

They also are either sweet or humorous

I was actually surprised that it turned out that I had written - much less posted - enough mlc fics that they'd be this entire post. I thought for sure I was going to get down to the temeraire laurence/napoleon fic that I posted *checks* September of 2022 but nope.

I'm not sure who's done this already, but here we go: @kingsandbastardz @nutcasewithaknife @wuxia-vanlifer @zishuge @tiny-breadcrumbs. If anyone else wants to do it to you're welcome to!

[eirenical]

I’ve been thinking a lot about Fang Duobing and names.

(Disclaimer: I’m learning Mandarin but have very very little of it under my belt and have pulled these definitions from Yabla.  If I’ve missed a major nuance, please feel free to add on. ^_^)

He’s first introduced to us as 袁健康 (Yuan Jiankang), the alias he gives at Baichuan Court when he’s participating in the tests to get accepted.  健康 means health or healthy. And when you consider his actual name, that’s... telling.

Fang Duobing (方多病), we find out not much later, is his real name.  But it’s not really a name, is it?  It’s what his mother and father and aunt called him as a child because he was 多病 -- often/always ill.  Much later in the series, we hear from his father that his mother didn’t give him a proper name at the beginning because they weren’t sure he would make it.

The only other name he ever gets called is Fang Xiaobao (方小宝).  He’s called this by his mother and aunt and eventually by Li Lianhua, as well (at first, I think this is almost ironic or teasing in nature, but becomes sincere as they come to mean more to each other, but I’ll get to that).  小宝 means “little treasure”.  This is the same 宝 as in 宝贝 (baobei).  From what I understand it’s the kind of affectionate pet name that parents might call their children, but isn’t... really the kind of nickname you’d use for an adult.  (...unless you’re Zhao Yunlan and have absolutely zero shame and are kind of a horn dog.  XD)

And this progression just fascinates me and makes me feel endlessly sad for him.  He’s “always ill” to everyone he’s introduced to because he never was given a proper name.  He’s “healthy” when he’s trying to break away from his family’s control and his entire past to follow his own dreams in the jianghu and Baichuan Court.  And he is forever “little treasure” to his mother and his aunt who wanted nothing more than to keep him safe and coddled at home because they can’t imagine him no longer being the “always sick” child he was when he was young.

And to Li Lianhua, he starts out as Fang Duobing because that’s the only name that he knows him by, but over the course of the series that shifts.  He starts calling him “Xiaobao” eventually.  And at first it’s said teasingly and not in the nicest of ways.  It’s a little condescending.  A reminder of how young, how innocent, Fang Duobing is.  A constant subtle suggestion that he should maybe go home to his mother, marry his princess, and live a safe and comfortable life.  But the more he accepts Fang Duobing’s presence in his life and the connection that’s building between them, once he hears Fang Duobing call him 知己 (zhiji) and MEAN IT, once Fang Duobing starts stepping up and living up to his potential as an equal and a partner... that shifts.  It becomes less ironic, less teasing, and far, FAR more sincere.  More of an acknowledgement of how much Fang Duobing has come to mean to him, even if he can never put that into words.

...but it’s still not a name.

The Emperor calls his father out on this towards the end of the series and for a moment I thought we might see him given a real name at that point, and I was almost relieved when it didn’t happen.  If he’s going to get a “real” name at this point, I’d rather see it be one he picks for himself or one given to him by someone who loves and understands him in ways he deserves.

So he makes his way through this story named only as a testimony to how other people feel about him: a sickly child who may be a burden, may never live up to expectations, may not live long enough to be worth naming; a treasured child who survived and, against all odds, THRIVED, but needs to be protected at all costs; a vibrant youth who’s one shot to name himself is to deny his entire past and leave it behind him... and eventually to being a treasure again, but no longer one that needs to be coddled.  One that truly IS a treasure and an unexpected one: a legacy, a partner, a support strong enough for someone who refuses to rely on anyone’s strength but his own.

And that makes sense.  Because at the core of it, Fang Duobing is a people pleaser.  Once he finds someone he feels strongly about, he’ll do whatever he can, be whoever he needs to be, to make that person happy, to protect them.  And with the way he shapes his own personality to suit those goals, he’s more of a chameleon than Li Lianhua ever was.  And his lack of a real name reflects that beautifully.

...and now I’m going to go sit in a corner and cry about it some more.  TT^TT

[rose-tinted-vision]

Tales from Tianji Manor

Relationship: implied Di Feisheng/Fang Duobing/Li Lianhua

prev/read it on ao3/next

Magical healing flower aside, a few weeks into living in her Manor has Li Lianhua looking healthier, He Xiaohui thinks.

Of course, he was nowhere near being well enough to engage in a full-blown spar with Di Feisheng again, but he seemed mostly content to instruct Xiaobao from the sidelines as he sparred.

(Though He Xiaohui knows better than to expect full jianghu-blooded people to be satisfied with teaching from the sidelines for long. She knows from experience, and is bracing herself for the inevitable clash when the slow rehabilitation process gets too much for Li Lianhua.

Bracing herself for what, exactly, she is not sure, but she knows better than to ignore her gut instincts).

She does not want to presume that Li Lianhua would come to her for a talk, much less a talk about feelings- that was something best left to his zhijis to deal with, if they ever did- knowing Li Lianhua, Xiaobao would have to force the conversation out of him.

Instead she contents herself with distracting him, deciding to prod him for details of his moving house.

Surely they did not think that they could get away with parking something so ingenious right in her courtyard and expect her not to poke at it!

It was a simple yet interesting contraption, a stroke of brilliance to attach wheels to a building, and something that interested her very much. She had once made a moving chair, and then a carriage, but never had she thought of making a moving house.

The way Li Lianhua thought was interesting.

She invited him to her sitting room for afternoon tea, determined to dig into the man's brain and whatever ideas he had. With his innovative ideas and her resources, she could start a whole new business avenue, she was sure.

Li Lianhua seemed surprised by the invitation but took it in stride, arriving exactly at the appointed time and happily explained the process of building his Lotus Tower to her.

It had been a long process, he said, earning money to buy the tool to cut down his own wood, materials such as rope, and figuring out how best to put them all together- pieces of loose wood and rope to form four walls, a roof and a floor.

The Lotus Tower only really took form two years later, and that was only the bare bones of it all, before Li Lianhua started to furnish the interior, slowly but surely building his herb garden and working out how to fit a kitchen in it.

He Xiaohui had listened, oddly enraptured by the way Li Lianhua wove his story, barely noticing as the afternoon went by. It took A-Li coming to announce that it was dinner time for her to come back to her senses, slightly abashed that she had let Li Lianhua talk for the entire afternoon without rest.

The teapot sits between them, untouched.

“If you don't mind, I'll send some blueprints for you to look over and see which areas could be improved on?” He Xiaohui suggests as they make their way to the dining hall, “I know Xiaobao has been dying to get his hands on some of those, he could look over it with you.”

“If Master He wishes,” Li Lianhua nods, easily agreeing to her idea.

“Only if you really do not mind,” He Xiaohui slows her pace, forcing the other to slow down too, “I don't want you to agree just because I suggested it. If machinery and such are of no interest to you, you don't have to force yourself.”

“It's no trouble, really.” Li Lianhua replies with a polite smile, gesturing for her to enter the dining hall first.

He Xiaohui sighs in resignation, before offering a smile of her own in reply.

Personal connections take time, she reminds herself. Not everyone was as inclined to open up right from the start, and as much as she would like to speed up the process, she was a busy person too.

Really, it has nearly been a month since their arrival at her manor, and she could count on one hand the number of real conversations- barring dinner time- that she has had with Li Lianhua and Di Feisheng. Most of her time was consumed by sect affairs, and it was near impossible to get Li Lianhua alone without her Xiaobao soaking up all of his attention.

So He Xiaohui could hardly fault him for being so formal with her when there had hardly been any time for her to properly get to know him, apart from whatever tidbits of information Xiaobao has fed her.

(She had made her own observations, too, of course. Like how Li Lianhua would still flinch whenever a sword edge got too close to either of Xiaobao's vital points despite himself, how he has to squint sometimes while reading, and how the smell of peanuts made him cringe, though he would force himself to finish the dish).

“What were the two of you discussing?” She hears Xiaobao whisper to Li Lianhua, eyeing him curiously, “My mum didn't bully you, did she?”

He Xiaohui scoffs, “Xiaobao, talking about me behind my back again, are you?”

“No,” he denies, placing on an expression of faux-innocence, “I’m just curious about what could've taken the entire afternoon to discuss.”

She feels Di Feisheng’s eyes on her as well, pausing in his action of deboning the fish, cautious yet curious.

“Madam He was just asking about the construction of the Lotus Tower,” Li Lianhua interjects, “it was a pleasant discussion.”

“Right!” Xiaobao lights up, “so how did you construct a whole second level on such a small area without extra support from the exterior?”

He Xiaohui spots an amused smile playing at Di Feisheng's lips as he turns his focus back to deboning the fish, resigning himself to a dinner full of engineering jargon as Li Lianhua patiently answers all of Xiaobao’s rapid fire questions, rehashing the story of how the Lotus Tower came to be.

Slowly but surely, she promises herself. The first steps were to ensure that they felt safe and comfortable in her Manor. Safe enough to speak their own mind, voice out against any discomforts, eventually drop the formalities with her.

Everything else could come after.

[omgpurplefattie]

WIP Wednesday

Oh, is it Wednesday again? Then have a snippet of the next chapter of 'Quagmire'.

Li Lianhua's PoV.

Li Lianhua crunched down on another handful of the things, and then allowed his eyes to wander to Qiao Wanmian.

She was looking at him with what, on a Vulcan, was deep disapproval.

Well yes, how dare he. How very dare he look a little like a human version long-lost Li Xiangyi and yet behave so terribly, eat during a meeting and even make a noise doing so. She was as pretty and gentle as she had always been, sitting meekly beside Xiao Zijin, listening to everybody else talk.

Li Lianhua still felt a little bad about her. She ought to be captain of the USS Sentinel, not that terminally conventional human who only spoke in boilerplate and whom they had just kept around because he was good at making lists, suggesting dull options that they then could contradict, and politely turn away annoying people.

Command material, he had not been, and still was not. The questions he was asking Fang Duobing were pointless, repetitive, and did nothing to advance science.

“Can you pass me the teapot, please?” Li Lianhua interrupted, and Fang Duobing actually did pause in the middle of his sentence to not only reach for the teapot, but also to pour for Li Lianhua.

“You were at the site as well?” Qiao Wanmian now asked, even though he had already said so; anything to pull control of the conversation away from Xiao Zijin, most likely.

“Yes,” Li Lianhua said. “Documents I had seen at Jade City suggested that the Sarculum colony might have started out as a Nanyin site, so when Fang Xiaobao got the assignment, color me intrigued. However, greed got the better of most of the tomb robbers, sorry, rogue archaeologists. The ones who did survive ran away with highly specific loot. It was suggested to me that there had been descriptions circulating in illegal circles for a while, which means somebody had surveyed the site, but had been unable to enter it themselves. Small drones will only ever get you that far. You can take a pen, but not even a coffee mug.”

Qiao Wanmian looked at him with bone-withering contempt, which probably only he could even identify.

He had loved her once; he was really sorry. He had promised to do better, and failed abysmally. He had left her hanging for ten years, and now she was a shadow of her former self, taking Xiao Zijin’s orders. He had to do something about this; he owed her that much.

“What?” he said aloud. “What do you think I was there for? What any of us was there for? Nanyin artefacts, of course! And while the big spectacular ones will certainly fetch fame and riches, it’s not something you can sell at a traders’ fair on a space station, or to an antiques dealer in one of the colonies. I’ve arranged to sell a dirty coffee mug from Sarculum to a dealer on this station later, when we’re finally done with this interrogation, and that’ll fetch me enough credits to stock up my ship for the next year or so, including dilithium, and some expensive toys for Fang Duobing to tinker with. His relationship with our warp engine is positively obscene.”

Fang Duobing sputtered.