Xiang Xian laughed even in his dreams. After sleeping for two hours, he woke up and hurriedly knocked on the door a few times to rouse Xiao Kun, so they could continue celebrating the New Year together.
This was the most lively New Year he had experienced since bidding farewell to his childhood. He still vaguely remembered those hazy memories from his youth: when living in Kuaiji, every winter solstice, he had followed his father and uncles to the ancestral hall to pay respects to their forebears.
The New Year celebrations back then had generally been lively and exciting, but the joy they left behind was fleeting. For one thing, clan affairs were busy; for another, as the eldest son, he had mostly needed to stay with the adults and could not run wild carefree with children his own age.
His family had always treated him as an adult man. After leaving Kuaiji and apprenticing under Shen Kuo, he had been thoroughly regarded as a grown-up by the age of seven.
Though Shen Kuo embodied both the sternness of a father and the gentleness of a mother, and occasionally indulged in childlike fun, he was advanced in years after all. For this master-disciple pair who spanned generations, their time together involved far more instruction, transmission of knowledge, and resolution of doubts than playful antics like peers. Xiang Xian even often had to care for his elderly master, leaving his innate nature rarely released.
After arriving at the Exorcism Division and becoming the Deputy Emissary, Xiang Xian found it even harder to make friends among fellow exorcists of equal status. Though Zhao Gou admired him, their positions were ultimately unequal—practitioner power versus mortal power, worldly trifles versus the discipline of cultivation, leaving Xiang Xian unable to fully unwind.
Xiao Kun’s arrival finally filled a certain void in Xiang Xian’s life, providing companionship and support in battle as well as a playmate.
On the morning of New Year’s Day, everyone else slept while Xiang Xian alone was awake. On the bird perch nearby, even A Huang slumbered soundly. Xiang Xian first took a bath, then lounged half-dressed on the couch in the main hall, lost in thought.
Moments later, he heard the door. Xiao Kun, roused by him, looked weary as he passed through the front corridor to wash up. When he reappeared, he had bathed, washing away the previous night’s soot.
Outside the window, mist shrouded everything, and Kaifeng City still lingered under the sulfurous smell of fireworks and lingering haze.
“Come down.” Xiao Kun wore a black bathrobe, the exposed skin as white as snow, his face bearing the irritability of insufficient sleep. He tried to shoo Xiang Xian off the main couch, but Xiang Xian merely shifted aside, making a little room. Seeing Xiao Kun up, Xiang Xian put his idle time to use: barefoot, he propped his feet on Xiao Kun’s thigh, only to be pushed away, then kicked at him again.
“Are you a child?!” Xiao Kun exclaimed.
“Hahahaha!” Xiang Xian laughed.
“New Year’s Day—what’s the first thing you should say?” Xiao Kun locked Xiang Xian’s ankle and pushed him further away. These past few days, he had never gotten enough rest, always short on sleep, and Xiang Xian kept pawing at him, tugging at his robe belt. Xiao Kun wore only the black bathrobe; if Xiang Xian yanked it off, he’d be fully exposed. After several defenses, Xiang Xian recited, “Good things come in pairs, Auspicious Star High and Bright, a century of harmony, dragon and phoenix bring prosperity, may all go as you wish…”
“Stop!” Xiao Kun clutched his bathrobe, half his body already exposed. To avoid streaking on New Year’s Day, he adjusted tactics: the best defense is a good offense. He began tugging at Xiang Xian’s bathrobe too.
“Lord Xiao, Master.”
Wu Yingzong had risen too. As he entered, the two froze mid-tug-of-war, then whipped back their hands, each snatching the other’s bathrobe.
“…”
Xiao Kun signaled to wait a moment, so Wu Yingzong waited in the hall. Xiang Xian quickly slipped into Xiao Kun’s black bathrobe in two or three motions, while Xiao Kun seized the chance to don Xiang Xian’s dark red one, still warm with Xiang Xian’s body heat and scent, stirring his heart.
Xiao Kun gestured for him to stop fooling around.
“Gentlemen, Auspicious Star High and Bright.” Wu Yingzong smiled, bowed deeply, and asked, “Shall we have the vegetarian meal now, or later?”
“Where’s Chaosheng?” Xiao Kun tied his belt and inquired.
Wu Yingzong: “Still sleeping.”
“Let’s eat first.” Xiao Kun instructed.
In Kaifeng custom, the first meal of New Year’s Day was vegetarian, as people went outside the city to pay respects in the morning. Xiao Kun had no desire to brave the crowds; he only wanted to rest in the division. Moments later, Wu Yingzong served white rice with a stew of tofu, wood ear mushrooms, assorted wild delicacies, and New Year’s cakes. The two ate in the main hall.
“I wouldn’t have guessed Wu Yingzong’s culinary skills were so impressive,” Xiao Kun remarked.
Though the Exorcism Division had only one housekeeper, everything from top to bottom was managed impeccably. Bathhouse, kitchen, guest rooms—any mess vanished in a turn, as if Wu Yingzong had tidied it unbeknownst. He kept Chaosheng company without delaying the three daily meals.
Xiang Xian replied, “He mostly slacks off, buying ready-made food from outside.”
