Work Text:
He leaves as soon as he wakes up.
He stares at his hands, young and beautiful, and wants to laugh and cry and scream – this was never supposed to happen.
Well. It doesn’t matter. Perhaps, had he been younger, mere moments after his brother’s death, it would have mattered. Perhaps he would have tried to change things.
But Shi Qingxuan isn’t a naive god anymore. He is old, has lived a long life and died an old man.
He leaves, and doesn’t look back.
Shi Qingxuan does not hate He Xuan.
He did, at first – how could he not? The one he had thought was his best friend had betrayed him, had lied to him for years, had killed his brother. How could he not hate him?
Then time passed. Shi Qingxuan worked, aged, saw his hair slowly become grey as wrinkles started growing on his face. Eventually, he couldn’t even remember his brother’s face or He Xuan’s.
He saw babies being born, growing into children then adults, becoming complex beings who grew closer or apart as they became their own persons. Sometimes, Shi Qingxuan would look at them and wonder how his life could have turned out that way.
It’s strange, how time works. Shi Qingxuan has lived centuries as a god, never ageing, never changing, and it feels like those decades as a mortal taught him more than centuries as a god.
Hate turns into dislike then indifference. Love turns into apathy.
It would be a lie to say that Shi Qingxuan ever stopped loving his brother or his friend – rather, the person he thought was his friend. But it wouldn't be a lie to say that the love he had for them lessened.
Sometimes, you love people, and those people hurt you. And the cruel thing is that, while love can fade with time, hurt doesn’t. There will always be scars where those people held your hands and your heart.
Here is another thing: love isn’t everything. It isn’t some sort of remedy, some sort of magical cure. You don’t conquer the world with love. Loving someone doesn’t make you a good person.
Shi Wudu loved Shi Qingxuan, but he wasn’t a good person.
Perhaps He Xuan had been a good person once, back when hatred didn’t distort everything he loved. Shi Qingxuan would never know. Either way, he still chose his path, still chose lies and manipulation and bloodshed. And where did that leave him? Alone, revenge completed yet still hollow.
Decades passed. Shi Qingxuan, an old man who watched over the children of his neighbours, looked at their innocence and felt tired thinking about it.
(Here’s a secret: love isn’t enough. But hatred isn’t enough either.)
No, Shi Qingxuan does not hate He Xuan.
That doesn’t mean he considers him a friend.
Shi Qingxuan travels.
The world is bigger than the gods know, bigger than disputes and plots for revenge. Shi Qingxuan didn’t have the time or will to travel, back when he lost a godhood that was never his. Even as a god, the Wind Master spent most of his time visiting big cities to drink and party. No one would expect him to stick to backwards towns.
But the new Shi Qingxuan – the one who lost everything, who grew bitter then old and content – he likes those places, away from noisy people who smile to hide their thoughts. The irony is not lost on him.
He stays away from the ocean and from lakes. When asked, he claims to be afraid, to have never learned how to swim. It’s not a complete lie, all things considered.
(Perhaps some gods are looking for him – his brother, most likely. He Xuan, or Ming Yi, as he is currently disguised as. Shi Qingxuan can’t bring himself to care. They’ve taken enough from him – this time, he would be free.)
Shi Qingxuan died an old man and lived decades in the body of one.
As a god, he loved switching between genders – the Wind Master was most often depicted as a woman, after all. Shi Qingxuan loved dressing up, watching her reflection and marvelling at it – perhaps it was vein, but weren’t all gods vein?
Though he wished it wasn’t the case, that he could say being stuck as a man for decades didn’t really change this aspect of him, Shi Qingxuan knows that it changed something. Nowadays, he spends more time in the skin of a young man than a young woman. It’s easier to travel as a man than as a woman, of course, but sometimes he just forgets that he can change.
Centuries of choice and decades of constrain. Which had the most impact?
Suffering always leaves a bigger mark than happiness.
Over the years, loneliness had become Shi Qingxuan’s closest companion, a friend that never left his side.
Even as he grew past the betrayal, even as he built himself back up as much as he could, that fact didn’t change. Even as he grew closer to mortals, as he grew older and wiser, there was always something between his friends and him, an invisible wall no one could hope to climb. For all that he was now mortal, that didn’t erase the centuries spent as a god. People could tell he was strange, just not why.
Fortunately, there were too many things to do to truly care about that, and once they had time, Shi Qingxuan had already became a part of the community. What was the point of asking, when they already knew they could trust him?
Sometimes, Shi Qingxuan thinks of Xie Lian.
Back then, when everything was so much simpler, he had been so kind. Always soft, always ready to help even though they hadn’t known each other very well. It was so different from what Shi Qingxuan had seen from other gods. He had been so happy to call Xie Lian his friend.
He’d never once visited him after everything. Shi Qingxuan had died alone.
Sometimes, Shi Qingxuan thinks of Xie Lian. He does not miss him.
People whisper.
The Wind Master disappeared, Shi Qingxuan hears, but he doesn’t feel anything. He left his godhood behind as soon as he woke up, throwing himself off the heavens.
He hears more whispers – of a god ascending for the third time, of ghosts and calamities moving, but Shi Qingxuan doesn’t let it get to him.
This isn’t his story. He won’t let it become his.
The Wind Master is gone. Shi Qingxuan travels, letting the wind carry him, and leaves those who claimed to love him behind.