Lighting the Dawn [FIC] - 1/3

[notturnito]

Title: Lighting the Dawn
Fandom: Don't Pick Up Boyfriends From the Trash Bin
Rating: T
Pairing(s): Chi Xiaochi/Lou Ying, Ji Feihong | 089/Zhuang Changting | 023
Warnings: Alternate Universe - Cultivation, found family, developing relationship, canon-typical violence
Notes: For #LouChiWeek2019 ; Day One

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Ji Feihong's sect is not a large one; having only five members all-in-all, having only one city to protect, and occasionally selling random cultivational trinkets to get by.

One day, Lou Ying brings back home a child.

 

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

*

They are not a large sect.

Compared to other sects, they are more suitable to be called a ragtag group, only having around five people to fulfill the usual sect duties. Therefore the area their protection covers is not particularly large. A small city—not even counting the outskirts—and a patch of land in the borders that belongs to their sect. Sect Leader claims that it is easier to monitor people who travel into and out of the town, but everyone knows it's because Zhuang Changting would rather not see too many people who can visibly whisper and point at the sight of his white hair.

Perhaps they were once a large sect, but that piece of glorious history belongs to the ancient past. And with how they are—it's enough. With their Sect Leader, Ji Feihong; Elder Zhuang Changting; the previous generation Elder Sun Guangren; Head Disciple (as much as the title counts, anyway, what with them having only one disciple in their entire sect) Lou Ying; and Ah-Jiu—it's enough for them.

"No more children, Feihong," Zhuang Changting says to Sect Leader. No one will rebuke him for disrespecting the Sect Leader, especially when night has fallen and they both return to each other’s side in bed. "No more until we can find anyone who won't act like rabid monkeys and incite trouble for us."

Ji Feihong smiles at him fondly. "Ah-Yue, a child with a temperament as peaceful as Xiao Ying is rarer than a three-legged frog."

"So be it,” Zhuang Changting sniffs. “I won't be accepting any unruly monkeys into our sect."

Lou Ying's father was the previous Sect Leader and his mother was an elder before they both died during a nighthunt gone wrong. The Sect Leader Emblem fell to Ji Feihong's lap, as well as the now-orphaned child of his shixiong and shijie. Out of the other remaining four members of their sect, only Ji Feihong had some experience in taking care of children. Only the heavens can allow Lou Ying to grow up as he does—courteous and gentle, resembling both of his parents in both cultivation and manner.

And even then they were not a particularly popular sect.

Ji Feihong sighs. “It will be hard to get disciples, truth be told,” he muses. “We’re not some big sects that will have people lining up in front of their gates once they announce of recruiting new disciples.”

“Good thing that you have some self-awareness,” Zhuang Changting replies, his voice drowsy.

Ji Feihong reaches out to take Zhuang Changting’s hand in his, unable to hold back his smile as Zhuang Changting does not shrug it off. He brushes his thumb over the callouses on the other’s hand, from holding brush, from creating so many talismans; he brushes over the knobs of his knuckles.

“You should eat more,” Ji Feihong softly says, turning his head to look.

Zhuang Changting has his eyes closed, but he cracks one eye open to glare halfheartedly at Ji Feihong. The only light they have is from Ji Feihong’s side—the moonlight coming through from the windows. It reaches Zhuang Changting, illuminating his profile, catching on the white strands of his hair and casting a silvery sheen on him. He looks breathtaking. Ethereal. More out of this world than a part of it.

Zhuang Changting grumbles. “Feihong, I swear, if you start trying to shove more soup into my meals....”

Ji Feihong laughs. He turns to his side to face Zhuang Changting more properly, letting his grin spread on his face. “Be careful there, Ah-Yue. Oaths are serious matters.”

He hears Zhuang Changting scoff. It is with great elation that Ji Feihong watches as he turns as well to side, facing Ji Feihong, meeting his gaze.

“I always take mine to heart,” he says, filled with intent, his dark eyes searching into Ji Feihong’s face as though gauging him.

Ji Feihong never doubts that. He also never doubts that Zhuang Changting means of staying together, until mountains fall apart and seas turn to land. Until death separates us, Feihong, but I don't promise that I won't search for you in the next life.

His heart pounds.

He reaches out towards Zhuang Changting, their hands still entangled together. Gently, he rests his hand on of Zhuang Changting’s cheek, his thumb brushing over the skin under the left eye.

They stare at each other for a while, watching, only with silence as their other witness.

"Cheesy," Zhuang Changting finally, embarrassedly, says.

Ji Feihong grins as the other man shakes Ji Feihong's hand off his head, no doubt to avoid him knowing that his cheeks have colored. It's an exercise in futility but adorable nonetheless.

Ji Feihong indulges him, taking his hand of Zhuang Changting's cheek.

His moment of adoring is cut short when Zhuang Changting speaks up again, his sharp eyes lingering on him. "Why the sudden remark?"

"Mn?" Ji Feihong grins. "Isn't it a husband's job to take care of his spouse?"

Zhuang Changting punches his shoulder, with the hand that is not holding him.

"That's not what I mean," he huffs, turning to side to face Ji Feihong, his face suddenly serious. "What is this about our lack of disciples? We are doing just fine with Ah-Ying and Ah-Jiu."

Ji Feihong doesn't answer immediately.

Zhuang Changting sits up immediately besides him, and when he speaks his voice is alarmed. "Feihong?"

It takes a while, but then Ji Feihong shakes his head.

“It’s…,” he sighs, running a hand over his face. “The opening of the Mausoleum will be in five years.”

Zhuang Changting is silent beside him.

Five years, Ji Feihong thinks wearily, is not even enough for a disciple to get into Foundation Establishment stage unless they are a genius gifted by the heavens, or through heavy load of hard work and persistence. Their sect’s Lou Ying is thankfully both: having good skills and affinity for cultivation, as well as the diligence to go through its stages. In five more years, he will be ready for the Mausoleum, as well as the other participants.

However, the threat of demons going rampant is getting more frequent. News run amok; the demons having mutated, getting stronger, even some having disguised themselves to sleep with humans.

The inner part of the Mausoleum is connected to one of the Demon World's entrances, as tightly-sealed and as unused it is. The barrier in the entrance holds true—has been holding true—preventing any demons from entrance. From Ah-Jiu, Zhuang Changting, and Elder Sun's combined effort, they all know now that the demon ruling near the Mausoleum is involved in territory dispute with another kingdom, making it impossible for them to pay attention to the Mausoleum's opening.

However, they are only a small sect.

"If anything happens to Xiao-Ying," Ji Feihong begins, "once I pass to the Yellow Springs, I can never show my face to shixiong and shijie." He is silent afterwards. "But moreover…."

Their sect will be without a successor, in that case.

Zhuang Changting finally speaks up. "Troublesome." He takes his hand out Ji Feihong's hold and rakes it across his hair. "And it is not possible as well to pass this event."

After the Mausoleum closes, there will be distribution of cultivation materials by the big, great, ye olde sects to small sects like them. Elder Sun's name is a respected one, but with the rise of new generations, his fame wanes into a mere legend, with exception of when he interacts with his fellow peers. Ji Feihong and Zhuang Changting doesn't intend to expand their fame outside their small city. And no one really knows about Ah-Jiu's existence.

Proprietary is not something their sect quite upholds—in fact, their sect's most powerful technique was derived from not upholding proper conduct—but everyone knows how irritating, annoying, but mostly importantly, how beneficial the rules could be.

"Can't we just stay here," Zhuang Changting grumbles, even though he's already known the answer.

Truthfully, Ji Feihong would rather him stay in their city as well. The stares and whispers about Zhuang Changting's family will be following them throughout the entirety of the event, especially when Lou Ying's parents have died, and that's not something he wants his Ah-Yue to go through.

"Ah-Yue doesn't have to go," Ji Feihong offers. "Stay here and guard the sect. Let Elder Sun, this Sect Leader, and Ah-Jiu go with Xiao-Ying to the opening of the Mausoleum."

Zhuang Changting raises an eyebrow. "And miss how our martial nephew beats- I mean, fares, against other sects' disciples? No. Ah-Jiu can stay, I am going."

Ji Feihong looks up to him, and grins. How he loves Zhuang Changting.

As if Zhuang Changting can sense what he is thinking about, he swats Ji Feihong’s cheek. “Anyway,” he says, yawning, as he stretches himself until he comfortably lays down next to Ji Feihong like a domestic cat, “We can continue discussing this tomorrow morning or until Elder Sun returns home. it’s late. I want to sleep.”

Ji Feihong tries to hold back laughter. It is failing. “Yes, yes.”

Zhuang Changting swats at him again, eyes closed.

When Ji Feihong is about to close his eyes as well, to follow his Ah-Yue’s example, Zhuang Changting suddenly turns to him.

“Feihong,” he drowsily says, and Ji Feihong turns to look at him again. Zhuang Changting is lazily looking at him through one half-lidded eye, moonlight catching on each of his eyelashes. It makes Ji Feihong’s heart tremble—the sight.

Zhuang Changting says, “I don’t care if anyone else says this sect is cursed, or how small our people are, or anything. I don’t care about that. I only care about our future, how to raise Lou Ying, how to get food to our tables. And you,” he adds, after a hesitant yet vulnerable silence.

Ignorant of Ji Feihong’s warming heart at his words, Zhuang Changting continues, his gaze at Ji Feihong is sleepy, yet resolute and true.

“I don’t care about what people say about our sect, so I’ll tell you this, Feihong. We are good enough.”

We are good enough.

Ji Feihong takes a moment to ponder over those words.

They are a small sect with dwindling members, only having one station to guard their small city.

Yet they are happy.

Elder Sun has all the time in the world in solving cases people his age usually would leave to his juniors.

Ah-Jiu is settling fine to human ways, charming the town’s aunties, living happily day to day despite his identity.

His shixiong and shijie’s son, Lou Ying, is growing up gentle and kind, his cultivation promising. Ji Feihong can never ask for a better disciple.

Their sect, though small, is always solving cases, some that other big sects might not always solve, keeping their one small town safe.

And of course, there are also him, and Ah-Yue.

We are good enough.

Ji Feihong finds it just as right.

There is no other reality he could ask for; the one in front of him is good as it is.

.

Except, of course, things do not always exactly go according to plan.

When Ji Feihong and Zhuang Changting had the conversation five days ago, Lou Ying was away with Ah-Jiu to handle a demon case in the outskirts of the city.

Today, he comes home towed with an unknown kid.

“Um,” Ji Feihong intelligently says, at the sight of Lou Ying and the skinny boy beside him. The kid looks younger than his Xiao-Ying, with sharp and curious eyes that peer warily at Ji Feihong.

It is Lou Ying who breaks the silence first. “Reporting to Sect Leader,” he begins, his voice steady and calm. He has always been mature for a fourteen-year-old. “The disciple has returned after accomplishing the mission.”

Ji Feihong throws a glance at Ah-Jiu, who is supposed to accompany Lou Ying in his first mission and notify the sect if the scope is outside his skill. Ah-Jiu gives him a panicked shrug.

That doesn’t answer anything, Ji Feihong thinks, as he waves Lou Ying’s report away. He is about to reply to Lou Ying casually, but even if the sect members are used with being carefree, he still needs to maintain airs in front of guests. “This Sect Leader accepts your report. I’m glad you returned safely, Xiao-Ying, now— who, is this? Your new friend?”

“Reporting to Sect Leader, his name is Chi Xiaochi,” Lou Ying says, just as his smaller— gosh is he small —new friend says, “I’m Chi Xiaochi.”

“Ah,” Ji Feihong says. That doesn’t answer his question.

Chi Xiaochi immediately asks. “You are the Sect Leader?” his previous wary gaze now turns sharper, more curious, searching into Ji Feihong.

“Xiaochi,” Lou Ying softly nudges, and the boy turns to him, his eyes wide, before lowering his gaze down.

Ji Feihong wants to say it’s not at all necessary, but he manages to will himself down when he sees Lou Ying carefully pat Chi Xiaochi on his shoulder.

Before Lou Ying can even open his mouth to explain, Zhuang Changting suddenly appears.

“Oh, you’re back,” Zhuang Changting nonchalantly says, as though he was not monitoring the sect’s barriers, waiting for Lou Ying to return. Ji Feihong sees Chi Xiaochi’s head snap up when the kid hears his Ah-Yue’s voice, and in one split second, their eyes meet.

There is only silence.

Then Zhuang Changting turns, “Feihong,” he says, his face impossibly flat, as well as his voice.

Ji Feihong raises both hands. “Ask Ah-Jiu what exactly is happening. I just got here myself.”

Zhuang Changting turns to Ah-Jiu. “Ah-Jiu,” he says.

Ah-Jiu splutters, his eyes darting everywhere in panic.

Chi Xiaochi then suddenly whispers to Lou Ying, which is unfortunately caught by everyone present in the room. “Lou-ge, are you sure the handsome man with white hair is not the Sect Leader? He seems like the big boss of everyone here.”

Lou Ying, unexpectedly, starts to giggle— he never giggles , Ji Feihong dazedly thinks—but then hides it with a cough. “No,” he says, desperately trying to keep his voice neutral. “That’s my disciple uncle, Zhuang-shishu.”

Zhuang Changting suddenly turns towards the two. He seems pleased by Chi Xiaochi’s remarks.

“I am Zhuang Changting,” he says with magnanimous airs. “You are?”

Chi Xiaochi introduces his name.

Zhuang Changting regards him curiously. “You seem to be a clever young man with a bright future."

Chi Xiaochi’s eyebrow twitches and he opens his mouth. But whatever remark he is about to say suddenly vanishes as Lou Ying impeccably interrupts.

“Chi Xiaochi is our sect’s newest disciple,” Lou Ying says, before he flushes, correcting himself. “This disciple begs forgiveness. This disciple brings Chi Xiaochi here to become a new addition to our sect.”

Zhuang Changting’s mouth opens, then closes.

Heavens have ears, Ji Feihong manages to think.

They both exchange glances for a while, nodding at each other to confirm they will interrogate all of this out of Ah-Jiu later on, before they turn back to the kids.

“How old are you, Xiaochi?” Ji Feihong asks, smiling. This isn’t hard. He likes kids enough, and something about the kid reminds him of his Ah-Yue.

Chi Xiaochi glances at Lou Ying, who gives him an encouraging smile, before he tilts his chin up, meeting Ji Feihong’s gaze.

“I’m twelve,” he announces. “And I am not small.”

It’s your name, Ji Feihong wants to say. But then Chi Xiaochi’s words begin to sink in his mind, and he finds himself staring more closely at the kid. He looks so young; his scrawny figure nearly fooling Ji Feihong into thinking he’s only nine.

“Still small nonetheless compared to me,” Ji Feihong grins at him, which is replied with a huff from the imp. It makes him laugh, before he shakes his head.

“Well, you’ve just arrived. You must be tired and hungry.” After Elder Sun returns from his mission, he can check on the kid’s vitals, see what can be done to help him get healthier. Ji Feihong turns to Lou Ying. “Xiao-Ying, after getting some lunch, you should go and take Xiaochi around. See if our sect is to his liking. We will meet again at dinner.”

Lou Ying affirms. He tilts his head to side, after. “Are Sect Leader and Zhuang-shishu joining us for lunch?”

It’s Zhuang Changting who answers. “No,” he says, curt. His hand suddenly comes up to rest on Ah-Jiu’s shoulder. Ji Feihong can hear Ah-Jiu’s gulp from beside him, very clearly. “Your Sect Leader and I have something to discuss with Ah-Jiu.”

Ji Feihong smiles at them, one hand raised to wave. Meanwhile, his other hand takes rest on Ah-Jiu’s other shoulder, preventing him from making any escape.

When Lou Ying and Chi Xiaochi make their exit, then Zhuang Changting speaks.

“Now,” he says, voice flat and terrifying, to a squirming Ah-Jiu, “What the hell happened in the mission?”

.

It was a supposedly moderate mission.

There are some settlements in the city lying at the mouth of the forest. The lord of the city had received case about a demon being sighted in the forest. Since there were no mentions of it harming humans, Ji Feihong and Zhuang Changting figured it would be fine if they sent Lou Ying only with Ah-Jiu to handle it. It would be a good experience for Lou Ying, a chance to apply his skills, and with Ah-Jiu there, there are no worries about Lou Ying receiving any curse from a demon.

Ah-Jiu's whole being was made to repel demonic curses, anyway.

Therefore Lou Ying and Ah-Jiu crossed the city to its other side, reaching their destination.

In the settlements, there Lou Ying met Chi Xiaochi.

Chi Xiaochi only had a mother—if a woman like her could be deemed one. He had no father. His mother was among the first who had seen the demon.

Lou Ying noted the appearance, its usual timing and where he had been seen. He set up arrays, some boundary fields, and waited for the demon's reappearance.

During the time, he spent it on knowing more about Chi Xiaochi.

Perhaps it's because Lou Ying had seen how others had treated Chi Xiaochi, following his mother's example. Perhaps it's because he'd become sympathetic and appalled at the way Chi Xiaochi's own mother had scorned the kid (Sect Leader and Zhuang-shishu are not even his own flesh-and-blood family, but they are so kind to him, it made Lou Ying feel so lucky by comparison). He tried to initiate him in some conversations, asking some mundane questions—”What is your favorite color, Xiaochi? What is your favorite food? I’ll treat you to it. What do you want to be when you grow up?”

Getting an answer out of Chi Xiaochi had been hard, but it helped that the kid was curious at Lou Ying’s work as cultivator, and Lou Ying’s effort won through. (“My favorite color? What’s the sky’s color? Hm, blue, then. Ehh, Lou-ge promises? Then I like anything with meat.”)

“When I’m older…,” Chi Xiaochi pondered over the question, having said he had grown up already. He was chewing on a sweet cake Lou Ying had brought him. “What I want, huh?”

He swallowed his cake and answered. “Maybe not become a demon child.”

The answer wrung around Lou Ying’s heart, wrapping it tightly, as though a cord had strangled him.

He wanted to make up for all the times Chi Xiaochi had been wronged by his mother, wanted to give him happiness where there had only been sadness.

Lou Ying could try care for him, could even bring him to his sect. Away from this woman who obviously didn’t care for him.

Before he could try ask Xiaochi, the demon appeared at the eve of the fourth day.

It was stronger than he had predicted—turned out, the demon had eaten human flesh. Dug from graveyards, or live humans kidnapped from a neighboring village. That gave Lou Ying the excuse to exorcise and banish him for good.

It seemed it was searching for someone, though.

“The Lord’s child…,” he choked out, trashing even as Lou Ying’s sword had pierced through his heart. “Here… must… bring… back….”

His words were no more, swallowed by Lou Ying’s engulfing sword intent.

It was supposed to go like this: Lou Ying’s job done, the sect getting their usual fee from the lord of the city, Lou Ying reminding Chi Xiaochi that he can go to the sect anytime he wishes, asking him if he wanted to go together.

Out of nowhere, Chi Xiaochi’s mother threw a fit.

She lashed out, somehow managing to blame it all on Chi Xiaochi — (“I knew it was you! You demon child! Fucking unlucky star! As long as you are here, our lives would never be peaceful!”) and began to beg and plead Lou Ying to take Chi Xiaochi away, even willing to pay more for the enrollment fee.

Lou Ying had never known someone could disgust him in such a way, making revolt gather in the pit of his stomach, as though he could even decimate her so if given the chance.

“I do not want your money,” he had said, surprising himself with the biting coldness of his voice, surprising Chi Xiaochi as well—evident from the way he gripped Lou Ying's hand tighter.

“I will take Xiaochi and leave,” Lou Ying seethed. “But only because Xiaochi doesn’t deserve living with a horrible person like you. Thank you for making this easier for both of us.”

And that, is how Chi Xiaochi suddenly joins their small family.

.

Zhuang Changting remains silent for a terrifying amount of time after Ah-Jiu has finished the retelling.

And then, he sighs. “Shit,” he says, eloquently. “We can’t tell him our sect is cursed.”

Ah-Jiu fidgets, surprisingly so human.

But Ji Feihong is not worried about it. Ah, Ah-Yue. Beneath his exterior, he actually has such soft heart.

Outside from the courtyard, Ji Feihong hears bright laughter, followed by Lou Ying’s surprised shout.

He can’t help it. He lets a grin slip on his face, warmth slowly unfurling in his chest. What ruckus these kids have made in the morning. How unusually loud it is in their usually quiet sect.

Ji Feihong says, “We can talk about it over dinner, with Xiao-Chi.”

Zhuang Changting stares at him in horror, in a look that says, “Oh no, you’ve given him a nickname already.” But his eyes are fond, though wary. His entire demeanor has softened ever since Ah-Jiu told them of Chi Xiaochi’s story.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “For now, let’s go there before the imp ruins Elder Sun’s favorite fish pond.”

Ji Feihong laughs at that, sauntering out, following his Ah-Yue out to the courtyard along with Ah-Jiu.

It’s another beginning, Ji Feihong thinks, and looks forward to the future.

.

.

.

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