Chapter Text
Every breath Jiaoqiu took was painful. All of his limbs were getting numb, yet the pain in his chest remained sharp. He was dying alone in the harsh embrace of cold tiles. But there was no fear within him, for he had done his part, and his death would be worthwhile, just like those who had fallen on the battlefield.
In the same way as those soldiers who had laid down their lives in the hope of a brighter future, he, too, would sacrifice his own.
His wounds were killing him, while the Tumbledust was destroying his body from the inside. In a condition where the poison began to deteriorate his vision, he saw the person he never expected to see again—someone he had lost in the war, someone he had failed to save.
“Yueyu…?” Jiaoqiu weakly reached out to that person. “I’ll be there soon…”
The former Arbiter-General didn’t say a word. She was looking at him with eyes full of pity. Was she going to scold him for his actions? But no matter what she said, he would never regret what he did. He was too tired of being left behind, tired of losing the people he cared for. If ruining his body could save others, then he would gladly do it countless times.
“I have lost you, Yueyu… I’m not going to lose her too. I will make sure… she is cured, even after my death.”
◊◊◊
It wasn’t his lack of sight that made Jiaoqiu felt a significant change in his life, but rather the way people around him treated him that made all the difference. The tone of their voices when they spoke to him was now filled with pity, and they felt compelled to choose their words carefully when speaking to him, lest they reminded him of his disability. But he didn’t need any reminders, as the darkness had become a part of himself.
Despite the fact that he made every effort to show that he was in good spirits, they still acted as if he was a delicate thing that will break at any moment. Even Feixiao, the most outspoken person he knew, would sometimes fumble around him. The last time she had visited him, his door burst open and slammed against the wall with a startling thud, followed by a loud and energetic voice: “Jiaoqiuu! Look who’s here! Guh- I mean, guess who’s here!”
People acted as though his visual impairment was a big deal, but in reality, simply being alive and getting by with just blindness was more than he had ever expected. He had never thought he would survive and live another day. He was supposed to die, either from his wounds or the poison inside his body, but ironically, Hoolay letting him bled to death ultimately saved him from dying from his own poison.
Jiaoqiu felt the skin under his clothes. There were patches of scar tissue that feel rough to the touch, from his neck down to his chest. The marks Hoolay had left behind, a constant reminder of the assault that beast inflicted on his body. When Hoolay had first sunk his teeth into his flesh, he had believed that once Hoolay had drunk his poisonous blood, he would transform into a borisin, just as Hoolay had turned that innocent foxian into a bloodthirsty monster. But that moment never arrived, instead he could feel the warmth of his blood slowly trickled down from his neck and the sound of his bones being crushed by those jaws.
Then it dawned on him. It was only natural that a borisin who had been starving for seven centuries would devour him until nothing was left of him. But even so, this outcome was also acceptable. He would let Hoolay feast to his heart content, even licked his bones clean, because that was exactly what he had hoped for, to ensure that the Warhead would consume enough Tumbledust and die before he could even find his way to escape.
As Jiaoqiu had felt his strength wane and the pain had spread throughout his body, his mind could only focus on a single resolve: It’s time to end this. Let’s meet our end together, Hoolay.
He was prepared to bring Hoolay to the deepest hell together with him, and yet he survived. He couldn’t understand why he was still alive, and he kept questioning it every day until these questions started to turn into some bad dreams that he had to relive every night.
In his dreams, he was no longer blind. He could see everything clearly: the starskiffs soaring through the bright blue sky, the towering buildings, and the bustling streets of Yaoqing. Something he shouldn’t have been able to experience, but in a dream, logic had no hold. The scene felt like a vivid snapshot of his daily life, as if he were on his usual grocery run in preparation for tonight’s dinner.
Everything felt normal until a sharp metallic tang overwhelmed his sense of smell. When Jiaoqiu lowered his gaze, he saw the clothes that were dear to him were torn and stained with a disgusting red. There were claw marks on his chest, and by the time he raised his head, the scene that greeted him was his forever nightmare. He was back in that dark and secluded place, surrounded by those beasts.
“I must leave, foxian. But before I go, you know what I must do, don’t you?”
This scene kept replaying in his dreams over and over again. No matter what he did, he couldn’t forget the horror when Hoolay grabbed his waist and bit into his neck, or when he was being pinned down and become a means of satisfying the Borisin Lord’s lust. The way he clung pathetically to his perpetrator because of the pain, and moaned pitifully as the length dug deep inside him.
Jiaoqiu was still wrapped up in his mind when he suddenly caught a faint, familiar scent wafting through his room. It was Moze’s distinctive smell. Moze did say that he would drop by to help him take out the trash, but as the minutes ticked by without any sound of approaching footsteps, Jiaoqiu eventually tried to call out to check if Moze was really here.
“Moze?”
“You called?”
“Ah- that scares me…” Jiaoqiu’s fingers brushed over his chest as if to steady his heartbeat. “Ugh, I didn’t realize you were so close. Maybe you should wear a bell or something.”
“Is that an order?” Moze asked in all seriousness, missing the humor entirely.
“I can’t even joke anymore, huh?” Jiaoqiu sighed. “Anyway, you came just right in time. Can you help me tape this on my door frame?”
Jiaoqiu opened his drawer and handed Moze a paper talisman he had prepared beforehand. Without a word of protest, Moze accepted it, but Jiaoqiu could sense his confusion. Although Jiaoqiu couldn’t see Moze’s expression, he could feel the questioning look Moze was giving him at that moment, as if asking why he needed this talisman in the first place.
“I need to ward off an evil spirit,” Jiaoqiu explained. “There’s this ghost that keeps haunting my dreams. It could be that it has not passed on properly, so that’s why I prepared the talisman. I already put one under my pillow, but I’ll have another, just in case.” He paused to take a deep breath. “Gosh, I really need my beauty sleep. I sure hope that there aren’t any dark circles forming under my eyes.” He used his fingers to feel the skin under his eyes.
“Alright,” Moze agreed, sounding quite defeated. “But if this… talisman doesn’t work, I will bring more Dreambranch incenses.”
“Oh no, please don’t. I can’t smell anything else when you lit that incense. The scent is too strong, and it hurts my nose—” Without any warning, a hand gently brushed Jiaoqiu’s hair, and then the sensation disappeared completely, just as swiftly as it had come.
“What are you doing..?” Jiaoqiu asked.
“There’s something in your hair.”
“Really?” Jiaoqiu replied, sounding skeptical. He had just washed and brushed his hair earlier, so there was no way anything could be stuck in his hair. Did he not rinse it out thoroughly?
“No. It’s nothing.” Moze shrugged it off, and then said nothing else, leaving an uneasy silence hanging in the air.
Jiaoqiu hated it when Moze withdrew from their conversation like this. It felt as if Moze was hiding something from him whenever they talked. But he couldn’t really blame him, either. After all, people couldn’t just change so easily. For someone who had been so accustomed to not speaking, perhaps being too chatty might feel uncomfortable to them.
At least it was a good thing that Feixiao always shared everything that was on her mind. Jiaoqiu couldn’t imagine being surrounded by two quiet people and having to carry the entire group conversation by himself. That would drain him completely.
“Is there anything else you need?” Moze asked.
“You’re done already?”
“Mn.”
“That’s quick. Well then, I’ll catch you later?”
“Mn.”
And just like that, the room sank into silent once more. Jiaoqiu didn’t even notice Moze’s footsteps as he left, nor did he hear the door close. Ever since he lost his sight, Moze felt completely invisible to him, always fading into the void. He used to be able to spot Moze hiding anywhere nearby, treated it like a little game between them. Now, it seemed like it was one of the many joys he had lost.
Jiaoqiu slumped into his seat. Moze was a man of few words, but lately he had been making an effort to be more talkative. It seemed only fair to Jiaoqiu to show some appreciation for the effort. Perhaps he should make Moze’s favorite dish for tonight. And since it was currently the snow fungus harvest season, maybe they could also have some snow fungus jujube dessert soup. The snow fungus was crunchy, but neutral in taste, so the plump and juicy, sour-sweet jujube complement it perfectly.
Just the idea of preparing a hearty meal made Jiaoqiu forget all his troubles entirely—his nightmares and the thoughts of Hoolay slipped away from his mind altogether.