Chapter Text
The only warning Yibo gets is a hiss of wind rustling the hair at the nape of his neck. Reacting on pure instinct, Yibo twists out of the way of a firm kick that slams into the air where his jaw had been, mere seconds ago.
He’s surprised, actually, that anyone would dare to attack him in the middle of Hengdian Academy’s training courtyard. He’s certain he made sure that no one had been following him on his journey here from the palace, and he doesn’t have any enemies in the area either. This is supposed to be a safe haven, a school open for all who want to study their martial souls without pledging their allegiances to any kingdom or organisation, which is why it suits him just fine.
Yibo needs time away from his kingdom. He doesn’t want to just be Yuehua’s prince and get forced into an arranged marriage by his parents to a prince he’s never met. To be shackled to some air-headed prince who cares nothing for Yuehua’s people or the world would be a double blow.
Yibo’s met enough of them to know. That’s why he’s here, away from Yuehua’s meaningless and spurious politics to focus on his training. If he can grow stronger, he wouldn’t need to marry a random prince who can’t fight with Yibo or be at his side when he challenges his older brother, Yichao, for the throne. He’ll show his parents he’s ready to lead Yuehua on his own.
Still, he’s amazed anyone was able to make it this close to him without him sensing their presence.
Yibo’s a White Tiger Beast Spirit, a ferocious predator. His enemies usually don’t stand a chance, and only those in his kingdom with more Soul Rings than he does can fight him head on. He’s the best in his class; he’s honed his abilities like the razor edge of a knife.
He quickly grabs at the slim, leather-bound ankle that extends from the heel grazing his cheek, his hand a blur. Using his speed skill, he seizes it before his attacker can retract their leg, feeling it jerk away from his fingers to no avail. Pushing it back with just enough force to drive his attacker from him while retaining his hold, Yibo turns around to get a good look.
And, oh -
It’s a Bunny Spirit, his long, slender right leg in Yibo’s grasp. His slim torso is bent unnaturally, his chest heaving as he fights to reclaim his leg from Yibo’s clutch. Kicking back out again, he snarls angrily at Yibo, who holds his leg firm.
“Let go,” the Bunny Spirit bites out, his eyes flashing. He isn’t fast or strong enough to beat Yibo, and both of them know it. They can feel the power imbalance thrumming between them.
He swipes at Yibo, his long arms attempting to land a hit, and Yibo dodges easily. The viciousness of his attack is completely at odds with the snow-white Bunny Spirit ears that sit tall on his head, his wide brown eyes and his plush lips.
“Okay,” Yibo shrugs, letting go of the Bunny Spirit’s leg.
Instantly, the Bunny Spirit springs forward, striking at Yibo with high kick after high kick that Yibo deflects. He darts around Yibo, using his speed to strike and hit at Yibo’s chest. Yibo simply knocks the Bunny Spirit’s arms away with the flat of his palms, noting the anger that darkens the Bunny Spirit’s eyes with every twist and shy away of Yibo’s body.
“Listen,” Yibo says, and shoves the Bunny Spirit to the ground. “Stop. You’ll hurt yourself.”
That’s enough. Yibo didn’t come here to play with people slower and weaker, no matter how cute they might be. He’s here to make himself stronger, and anything that doesn’t serve that end is a mere distraction.
The Bunny Spirit hits the floor with a painful crack, winded as he clutches at his chest. His brows draw tight together as he struggles to his feet, a few paces away from Yibo and his claws. “You’re so arrogant, Wang Yibo.”
It makes sense that the Bunny Spirit knows his name, given that he’s attacking Yibo. But the way he spits it out, his eyes burning, and so unlike the Bunny Spirits back home, makes Yibo pause. Has he offended this Bunny Spirit somehow? Is this someone who dislikes him personally, not just his family?
“I’m warning you,” Yibo says, eyes flickering up and down the Bunny Spirit’s body. He’s limping a bit, so maybe Yibo shoved too hard. But there was no other way for Yibo to get the determined Bunny Spirit away from him. “You can’t measure up to me.”
With a breath, Yibo activates his soul power, letting the visible manifestations of his Soul Rings hover around him. The Bunny Spirit’s eyes widen as he counts the three Soul Rings Yibo has, the topmost one a flickering purple Millenium Soul Ring.
The Bunny Spirit probably has one or two Soul Rings at the most. There’s no way he can compare to Yibo in strength or stamina. If he had three—that might be another matter. But it doesn’t change the fact that their powers and skills are terribly disproportionate. The Bunny Spirit would be stronger fighting with Yibo, not against him.
“I’m a Soul Honour. I have three Soul Rings,” Yibo says and watches the Bunny Spirit swallow, his eyes growing glassy. His arms fall to his sides, his fist clenched against the rucked fabric of his pale blue robes. “I killed a Millenium Supreme Tiger for my Millenium Soul Ring.”
With a wave of his hand, the rings dissipate, and Yibo takes a step away from the Bunny Spirit. Turning, he dusts his hands on his thighs, ready to find his rooms and have a good rest. He made a five-day trek to get here, and he’s tired, which is why his voice is dismissive and curt when he speaks again.
“Don’t hurt yourself anymore. I don’t have time for this.”
Unexpectedly, the Bunny Spirit hurls himself at Yibo, wrapping his legs around Yibo’s neck. He attempts to flip Yibo on his side, a practised move that would have surely felled other Soul Masters. But Yibo holds firm, his Tiger Spirit rooting his feet firmly to the ground.
There’s a hitch of breath from the Bunny Spirit as Yibo pulls him from his shoulders and pushes him back down against the stone tile of the courtyard. There’s nothing but the Bunny Spirit’s ragged breaths coming hard as Yibo’s hand presses atop his chest, his fingers curling in the folds of the Bunny Spirit’s robes at his neck.
Yibo’s leaning over him, almost nose-to-nose with the Bunny Spirit as he struggles, legs kicking out till he stills, meeting Yibo’s eyes stubbornly. He’s about to warn him again when abruptly, the Bunny Spirit blinks, and tears roll down his cheeks. They trace down his chin, his jaw, weak trails that glisten in the moonlight and dampen his robes. His jaw clenches and unclenches as he stares up at Yibo, eyes bright.
This seems… too personal.
Yibo searches the Bunny Spirit’s eyes for a sign, anything that might betray who he is, but there’s nothing. Other assassins, other mercenaries would’ve tried to spit in his face by now, or butt him in the head, scrabble to escape his grip, anything. But this Bunny Spirit is lying under him, as unmoving as a rock, his only motion the rise and fall of his chest as he stares up at Yibo defiantly.
“Who are you?” Yibo breathes, and the Bunny Spirit scoffs, turning his head as he cuts his gaze away to a corner of the courtyard. His bunny ears disappear as he eases under Yibo, the turn of his head revealing long, dark hair. There are delicate, beautiful studs in his ears, small silvery chains hanging from them that clink gently against the stone tile.
Yibo draws back from the Bunny Spirit to study him, tracing his figure. The Bunny Spirit is tall and strong, and he’s muscled in a way that speaks of daily, regimented training. His fight stances and his kicks are accurate and powerful. He must have experience fighting, or at least he likely drills himself consistently. His clothes are of fine make, thick and sturdy for protection with an intricate hem.
But more than this—for a prey spirit to attack a predator spirit is unheard of. Prey spirits can team up with predator spirits to take another predator down, but to take a predator on alone is dangerous and ultimately, desperate. He followed Yibo here, probably slipped in through a side gate just to fight him.
It’s concerning, and Yibo doesn’t want anything to do with this. He’ll entertain challenges, but this is too much. If this Bunny Spirit tries to attack him anymore, Yibo will be forced to call the Academy guards. In fact, he’s wondering why none of them have come to his aid by now. The ruckus they’ve made is surely enough to rouse any Soul Master from slumber.
“Look,” Yibo says, and the Bunny Spirit’s head whips back to meet his gaze, eyes dark and angry. There’s a small mole under his plump lower lip, red and indented with marks from his upper teeth. “It’s been a long night. I just want to rest. I don’t want to injure you.”
The Bunny Spirit lets out a harsh chuckle, shaking his head, and Yibo bristles at that. He’s been patient enough. Other Soul Masters would have hurt an unprovoked attacker badly.
“What do you want?” Yibo growls, shaking the Bunny Spirit slightly. When the Bunny Spirit doesn’t respond, the jut of his throat bobbing slightly as he glowers up at Yibo, Yibo sighs.
“Listen, Bunny. I’ll give you what they gave you, or more of it, okay?”
At this, the Bunny Spirit’s brow furrows, his eyes questioning.
Yibo takes this as a good sign, forging ahead. “I’ll give you more money than the people who hired you. Just tell me how much you-”
The Bunny Spirit’s face instantly clouds over, darkening his expression, and Yibo lets himself be shoved back by the Bunny Spirit, lets the Bunny Spirit rise from the ground, his mouth twisted in disgust.
“I don’t want your money,” he says, and his hands are shaking, clenched into fists at his sides. “I need to defeat you. I have to.”
“I don’t even know you,” Yibo says, and watches as the Bunny Spirit swallows, thick eyelashes dusky against his cheeks. “Why does it matter if you beat me or not? There are thousands of other Soul Honours out there for you to fight.”
“I don’t care about you being a Soul Honour,” the Bunny Spirit grits out, and Yibo realises with alarm that tears are running down his face again, dripping off his chin. “I care that it’s you who I beat. I just need to fight you and win, then I can- I can go back.” His voice breaks a little as he takes in a shuddering breath.
“You’re injured,” Yibo replies, moving closer to the Bunny Spirit slowly. He watches as the Bunny Spirit bristles, hiding his arm from Yibo’s view. “You couldn’t beat me at full strength, and you can’t beat me now.”
“I don’t care,” the Bunny Spirit rasps. “I need to. Let me battle you one more time.”
“Why?” Yibo asks, watching how the Bunny Spirit sways a little in the nighttime breeze, his eyes accusatory and pained as they meet Yibo’s. He runs an agitated hand through his hair, gesturing at the Bunny Spirit. “Why me? I don’t know you at all.”
The Bunny Spirit stills and stares at Yibo. “You mean that. You actually mean it. You don’t recognise me.”
“Of course I-” Yibo snarls, irritation slipping into his words. He’s given this man enough of his time. “I have no idea who you are.”
“Yibo, I’m-” The Bunny Spirit looks lost for a moment, blinking rapidly as he cradles his right arm. He suddenly looks tiny in the middle of the courtyard, silvery light threading through his dark locks, reflecting in his deep eyes. “I’m Xiao Zhan.”
Yibo shakes his head, clueless. He’s never heard of that name before. “Who?”
“Yibo, you-” Xiao Zhan swallows, his voice tender and raw. He looks like he’s having trouble making the words out. “You really- really forgot the name of your fiancé?”
Yibo’s heart stops beating in his chest. Fiancé? How could this be?
His fiancé is a prince of another faraway kingdom. Yibo can barely remember his face from years ago. They had been kids then, during their first and only meeting. He can only remember a bright smile, and a hesitant face moving closer and closer as they crouched behind a tree and-
“-Why should I marry someone I met only once?” Xiao Zhan questions, voice shaking. He advances on Yibo till there’s only a small space in between them. Yibo can barely breathe as he meets Xiao Zhan’s eyes, anger and hurt roiling within them. “Someone who doesn’t care about me, despite all the promises he made?”
“Xiao Zhan, I-” Yibo’s still reeling from the revelation. He hasn’t seen Xiao Zhan in years.
Somewhere along the way, he’d forgotten how soft the hand in his had felt. He’d forgotten what it had been like, chasing Xiao Zhan around a tree and pouncing on him when he’d won. He’d forgotten what it felt like to meet large, trusting eyes and a willing smile.
Somehow along the way, growing up, Yibo had twisted happy memories into bitter arguments with his parents. He thought he’d left that life behind. He thought he didn’t want it anymore. He’d turned away from it, resentful and angry at his parents that his marriage was an obstacle to his birthright, and he’d turned away from his promises too.
“You said you’d protect me, and that you’d give me a home,” Xiao Zhan recites, and the words are sour, inadequate, for what they have failed to deliver. He gazes intently at Yibo, and Yibo wants to curl up in shame.
It’s perhaps this heavy embarrassment that has him pushing back, shame bubbling in his belly.
“Well, part of the reason I left was because I didn’t want a political marriage. I didn’t want someone who’d just sit around and look pretty,” Yibo growls, and humiliation smothers him as Xiao Zhan takes a jerky step back, eyes puffy and reddened. “Those promises don’t mean anything. We were kids.”
“Maybe they wouldn’t have meant anything,” Xiao Zhan shoots back, voice ragged like Yibo’s pushed a knife into him and twisted. “If you hadn’t kissed me back then.”
“ I kissed you?” Yibo snaps, jabbing a finger at Xiao Zhan. “My parents engaged me to you because you kissed me. Your parents were so upset because of it they had to marry you to me, when I didn’t even want it.”
Xiao Zhan flinches, wavering with the force of Yibo’s disgust. Something malicious in Yibo feeds on it, swallowing the hurt look in Xiao Zhan’s eyes, a voice within him that’s mocking him for being so affected by the sight of Xiao Zhan. For being a weak, sentimental fool.
Yichao sure as hell never felt like he got punched at the sight of his fiancé, alone and trembling in the moonlight. He ran through mates as easy as breathing, using them for his pleasure and discarding them after.
That’s how it is in Yibo’s kingdom. Tiger Spirits bow to no one, especially not their mates. What kind of ruler would Yibo be if he falters at the sight of a pretty face?
“I never wanted any of it. I never wanted you,” Yibo continues, sneering. “A weak prey spirit with nothing to offer me or my kingdom. You’re of no value at all to me as a fiancé. Anyone else would be better than that. Anyone else would be better than you.”
He regrets the words the moment they leave his mouth. Truthfully, he can’t remember who kissed who first. But he remembers- he remembers the feeling.
He remembers how soft Xiao Zhan’s lips had been against his. He’d carried that memory with him for years, even if he’d forgotten his fiancé’s face. The shaking hand pressed to his cheek, the hot breath against his mouth-
Looking up, Yibo’s heart sinks to his stomach. Xiao Zhan’s expression has shuttered, a sole tear trickling down his face, taking its time to make its way to the curve of his jaw.
“You abandoned me,” Xiao Zhan says quietly. “You abandoned me. I waited for you to come back for me. I wrote you all those letters. When people told me you’d left, and you weren’t coming back, I didn’t believe it at first. I told them they had it wrong. I told them they had you wrong.”
He shakes his head, his arms crossing in front of him like a protective barrier. “But it turns out they were right about you. This is really how you feel. This is how… this is how you see me. Weak. Useless.”
Yibo’s throat is dry. He can’t seem to tear his eyes away from how tightly Xiao Zhan’s lips are pressed together, how he keeps pausing to take in short breaths like a long one might hurt him.
“They were right, and I was- I was so stupid,” Xiao Zhan says, letting out a bitter laugh. “I journeyed to your kingdom seeking answers, I was so convinced that they were lying. But then your kingdom’s representatives said that you never cared about this engagement at all. You spent all your years condemning it while all I ever did was care about you and wonder how you were. All I did was make excuses that maybe you were too busy to write back. I never thought you had them burned before you even opened them.”
Xiao Zhan shakes his head, closing his eyes briefly. He smiles to himself, a raw, sobering thing. It looks painful to wear on his face. “I had so much faith in you, Yibo.”
“Xiao Zhan-” Yibo barely makes out, but then Xiao Zhan is silencing him with a glare, stalking over to Yibo to press a finger into his chest, voice accusatory and shattering under the moonlight.
“And now, guess what,” Xiao Zhan snarls, tears shining in his eyes. Yibo is frozen, mouth moving with no words to leave it. “I don’t want you either.”
Somehow, the sharp words have Yibo flinching. He draws himself taller, enough to return Xiao Zhan’s gaze with a steely, cold look.
“How can you hold me to promises I made as a child? Isn’t that a little desperate?” Yibo hisses, though there’s barely any heat behind his words. “I don’t care; you’re the only one who ever did.”
Xiao Zhan’s eyes are alight with fury as he draws a long section of his hair over his shoulder. Yibo’s eyes widen as he recognises the tightly woven column of dark brown, with a deep green ribbon threaded through.
It’s an engagement braid, with Yibo’s family colours plaited through it as a symbol of loyalty to Xiao Zhan’s betrothed. To Yibo.
Yibo had long since cut his from his hair, thrown the red ribbon from his window in a fit of rage. But Xiao Zhan’s been wearing his all this time, looping it with every year that passed in a dutiful observation of tradition.
There’s a pause as Xiao Zhan meets his gaze, and then Xiao Zhan undoes the braid, fingers pulling at his hair as he blinks, angry tears rolling down his face. He frees his hair from the ribbon and his hand trembles as he holds it out in front of him, in between him and Yibo.
Yibo’s throat is thick with an emotion he can’t name as he watches Xiao Zhan toss it in the dirt of the courtyard. There’s a strange impulse to use his speed skill to seize it before it hits the ground, but his pride stays his hand even as his heartbeat dulls in his chest. They both watch as it flutters to the floor and Xiao Zhan steps over it to meet Yibo chest to chest.
“I’m going to defeat you,” Xiao Zhan whispers, face crumpling. “I have to.”
He bites his bruised lip, tears slowly trailing down his face as he slowly turns and hobbles away in the direction of the front office, likely to seek medical attention from their fight.
Yibo represses the urge to help him there, guilt like a rock at the bottom of his stomach as he watches Xiao Zhan wince and press a hand to his side with every step.
Xiao Zhan attacked him first, unprovoked, and Yibo’s a prince in line for the throne! He shouldn’t feel sorry for someone weak. He has no more ties to Xiao Zhan. He made sure of it before he left home. There’s no reason why he should care at all about an impudent Bunny Spirit.
Yibo doesn’t have to settle for just anyone either. He deserves someone more powerful, a Spirit who can keep up with him in battle. Another Soul Honour who can match him at his level. He didn’t come here to be accused, or to spar with someone who can’t help him improve.
Still, the sight of the green ribbon, slightly stained with mud, makes him pause. He picks up the ribbon and returns to his quarters.
Setting the ribbon on a small, rickety side table, Yibo hesitates, glancing once at it before blowing out the light.
Needless to say, sleep doesn’t come easy.