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Xue Yang took a tentative step off the ladder and onto the roof, the creaking of the wood worryingly loud. The roof was basically falling apart already, Xiao Xingchen was useless in this regard, and so he himself needed to fix it. He refused to spend any time considering just why he would need to do such a thing. He learned to trust himself, since there was no one else to look out for him.
He took a few more steps, ready to put down the planks he dragged up with him, when suddenly –
“Fuck!”
It was more instinct than anything else that had him whisper-yelling the instant a little bit of his foothold collapsed. His throat was still fucked, so his voice came out hoarse and rough. Unfortunately he’d made that step with his injured leg, and now it was in even more pain than before. Xue Yang felt something wet seep into his pants and robes, and realized some of the stitches must’ve been torn open at the sudden exertion and strain.
Before he fell down into the now even bigger hole, he managed to grab onto the rest of the roof. His more intact leg was also the one to stay on top and not fall through. He inhaled deeply, not letting any other sounds of pain escape, exhaled, and managed to slowly haul himself the whole way up.
“Are you okay, prick?” Great, the annoying little brat must’ve heard him. He thought back to the talismans he’d been working on at Jinlintai, especially the one impeding one’s hearing entirely. He imagined, with no small amount of satisfaction, how she’d flail and panic with two of her senses gone. He reluctantly let go of the image.
At least Xiao Xingchen had gone to the market and probably wouldn’t be back for a little while. Maybe the bleeding would stop again by the time he’d be back. That would definitely save Xue Yang a lot of trouble. He didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of his enemy any more than absolutely necessary. But his body hasn’t been very cooperative lately, so he wasn’t sure if that was something he could reasonably hope for. Oh, well. Further preying on the daozhang’s kindness could also work as a plan.
“What, Little Blind? That happy to be potentially rid of me?” His voice, while still very rough, didn’t falter, and he refused to be proud of himself for that. He got to his knees, and shakily sat up.
“I definitely would be,” she said, in a defiant tone. “Daozhang saved your worthless life and you still refuse to be grateful to him. What kind of person gets himself beaten up that badly anyway? I don't trust you. I can’t wait until we leave you behind.”
Xue Yang grit his teeth through the sudden, inexplicable wave of nausea. Maybe his fever was still fucking with him?
“As if, Little Blind, as if. And what do you mean I’m not grateful? I’m fixing your stupid roof!” He meant to say this in a mocking tone, but he felt it come out too earnest, too pathetic. He quickly amended it with, “It’s not like your daozhang could do it, anyway. You need me.”
However, that also sounded way too pathetic for his liking, and he squeezed his mangled left hand hard in frustration. The sharp pain brought some relief, but not much.
“Whatever. Nobody will miss you if you fall off and die.” And then she walked away, which was a huge blessing, as Xue Yang finally felt like he could breathe again. He really wanted to wring her neck, and carve her stupid, useless eyes out. That had to wait though, unfortunately. He had a roof to fix.
Luckily, the planks stayed on the roof, all tied together and lying there innocently. Xue Yang didn’t dare get up again, moving around on his knees was good enough. He’d have to kneel down to affix them anyway. He hadn’t done a lot of carpentry in his life, but he was reasonably confident he knew what to do. He just barely had enough unused spiritual energy to aid him.
Soon, he got into a rhythm. There wasn’t that much to fix, and soon he had the gratitude of Xiao Xingchen to look forward to. He already had been turning over some ideas, as to how to reward the daozhang’s naivete. There had to be a way to further exploit his blindness. What other weaknesses did Xiao Xingchen have? There was his appaling self-righteousness, his conviction that he could make the world a better place. Laughable, pathetic dreams of a man that didn't understand the world. Xue Yang knew that to truly break Xiao Xingchen, he’d have to make him do something horrible to someone else. Simple torture, or threats, or anything like what Xue Yang was accustomed to wouldn’t work on the honorable and righteous daozhang.
He also spared a thought to the daozhang’s condition itself, how could it have happened? Was Xiao Xingchen’s blindness related to the fact that Song Lan was nowhere to be seen? There was an obvious conclusion there, taking into account how Xue Yang left Xiao Xingchen’s most beloved companion blinded, and how stupidly self-sacrificial the daozhang seemed. Could it be…?
He snapped out of his musings suddenly, when he heard a creak of all creaks, and then a snap and oh, fuck–
Before he could react, Xue Yang was falling down into the coffin house. All he could think was how close he’d been to finishing, and how much more work would be required now. He barely managed to finish the thought though, before he was hitting the ground, left shoulder first, the force of his fall just barely mitigated by some scraps of spiritual energy. He still refused to scream, but he let out a loud groan, both in pain and frustration. He barely managed to contain another shriek when he rolled over onto his back.
His shoulder was completely fucked, so any attempt he made at moving his arm lit up every nerve in said arm with agony. The rest of his body didn’t fare much better, some of his ribs were definitely broken again. Even though he didn’t fall onto any furniture, all the remaining stitches on his body reopened anew. His head had also slammed into the ground on impact, and felt unpleasantly fuzzy now.
As his luck (or lack thereof) would have it, that was the moment Xiao Xingchen entered the coffin house. The spot where Xue Yang had fallen was a bit deeper inside the building, but the daozhang still must have heard his cry. Fuck.
“My friend?” sounded Xiao Xingchen’s voice. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he gritted out through his clenched teeth. Breathing was difficult. “The roof’s fucked again.”
“Language, please.” Xiao Xingchen was frowning, and then seemingly the meaning behind Xue Yang’s words caught up to him, because he visibly paled. “Oh, no. My friend, did you try fixing the roof on your own?”
“M-maybe. You’d be useless anyway.” Xue Yang really tried not to feel like a petulant child being scolded, and failed miserably. In search of regaining some pride, he foolishly tried to get up, but he couldn’t even start lifting himself before his whole body lit up in more pain. The hiss he let out was wholly involuntary. His brain clouded further. He could tell his consciousness was close to slipping away.
“Oh, no, please don’t move anymore. Oh, I can smell so much blood. You weren’t supposed to overexert yourself! I barely cleared you to stretch and take a walk!” Xiao Xingchen’s tone was frantic, obviously concerned. Stupid. There were hands touching Xue Yang. He wanted to trust them. “My friend, please, take your recovery seriously. Don’t you want to get better?”
“Oh, daozhang,” Xue Yang murmured, probably barely audible, his eyes falling closed. “Stupid, naive daozhang.”
“Wait, my friend, stay with me! Don’t drift off, you’ll be okay, I just need you to stay awake a little longer, please, my friend–”
Xue Yang blacked out.