Chapter Text
Bai Jiu was at home. He should have been safe, surrounded by his family and the walls imbued with ancient protective magic.
They shouldn't have assumed. They should never have believed that Bai Jiu would be safe simply because they had placed him in a secure location. Bai Jiu was not a treasure to be locked away, set aside, and trusted to stay put. He was a teenager, full of energy and unwavering faith in their cause. Of course, he didn’t stay put; of course, he wasn’t willing to be left out.
And so, Bai Jiu get hurt.
They didn’t even know who had dared to raise a hand against the boy or why. They didn’t know, and they couldn’t find out. Bai Jiu had not woken up since they found him a week earlier, lying in an abandoned alley.
They found... It was Zhao Yuan Zhou who first noticed Bai Jiu wasn’t where he should have been. He was the first to go looking for the boy when the others dismissed his warning, thinking that Bai Jiu was just being irresponsible, sneaking out despite being explicitly told to stay.
Had Zhao Yuan Zhou not reacted quickly enough, they couldn’t be sure Bai Jiu would have survived. From that moment, Zhao Yuan Zhou refused to leave the boy’s side. He sat by his bed, constantly monitoring his health, sharing his energy, and using his magic to heal him whenever his condition worsened. No one could pull Zhao Yuan Zhou away from Bai Jiu.
He looked more like a worried mother than Bai Jiu’s own parents.
Zhao Yuan Zhou ignored their comments. When Zhou Yi Chen said two sentences too many, Zhao Yuan Zhou didn’t hesitate to teleport him to the middle of a lake outside the city. The demon hunter had to walk back to Bai Jiu’s home, soaked to the bone. Fortunately for him, that one incident was enough to teach him to hold his tongue. Zhao Yuan Zhou didn’t take kindly to criticism, especially regarding Bai Jiu—not until they understood what had really happened.
All they knew came from Bai Jiu’s father. According to him, Bai Jiu had gone to bed in his room. The next thing he knew, Zhao Yuan Zhou had appeared at their home with Bai Jiu in his arms. There were no visible wounds on the boy, but his heart faltered more often than it should have, even under extreme, prolonged stress. His heart lacked the strength to function. It no longer wanted to pump blood or keep Bai Jiu alive. Only Zhao Yuan Zhou’s magic had been able to force the organ to keep working.
Wen Xiao had brought in doctors, all the ones she could find. Each examined Bai Jiu under Zhao Yuan Zhou’s watchful, protective gaze. None of them could solve the mystery of his condition.
They needed to find Li Lun, but no one could pull Zhao Yuan Zhou away from Bai Jiu’s bedside. Without him and his magic, they stood no chance against the demon. Everyone remained in limbo, waiting.
Wen Xiao and Zhou Yi Chen knew they were waiting for the inevitable. They waited for Bai Jiu’s other organs to fail, for the moment when Zhao Yuan Zhou could no longer force his body to fight. They waited. They knew that every day spent watching the sleeping boy pushed them further away from their chance to get ahead of Li Lun. They also knew there was no force in the world that could drag Zhao Yuan Zhou from Bai Jiu’s side.
And so, they waited.
They held their breath every time Bai Jiu’s heart stopped. They waited for Zhao Yuan Zhou to use his magic again, forcing him to keep fighting.
Zhou Yi Chen wanted to be able to stop Zhao Yuan Zhou. He wanted to say something that would halt this cursed process, but he couldn’t. Just looking at Bai Jiu in this state, suspended between life and death, made his own heart feel like it might give out. He wanted to cry. He wanted to do something, anything, but he was utterly powerless. He had neither the strength nor the skills to heal the boy.
And so, they all waited, watching Zhao Yuan Zhou, knowing that everything depended solely on him.
One evening, almost a week after Zhao Yuan Zhou had found Bai Jiu unconscious, Zhou Yi Chen rose from his chair in the corner of Bai Jiu’s room. He had been silently accompanying Zhao Yuan Zhou in keeping watch over the boy. Zhou Yi Chen stood to stretch his stiff muscles and left the room for just a few minutes. When he returned, he was greeted by a sight he never expected to see again. He had hoped for it but had steeled himself, hardening his heart, to expect the opposite.
Bai Jiu had woken up.
His cheeks were flushed, though hollowed from too many missed meals. Bai Jiu was alive, and that was all that mattered. Zhou Yi Chen sank to the floor beside his bed, pulling the boy into his arms. He held him tightly, pressing him to his chest until he could feel the steady thump of Bai Jiu’s heart against his own. The heartbeat was strong, even, calm, and most importantly—alive.
Zhou Yi Chen sighed in relief. After an entire week of tension, he could finally breathe. He didn’t want to think yet about what Bai Jiu’s recovery meant—that Zhao Yuan Zhou would soon leave with him to hunt down Li Lun. Not yet. Right now, he wanted to focus on the overwhelming relief washing over him, on the joy he felt, on the sheer happiness that they had managed to save Bai Jiu.
He didn’t want to dwell on the fact that it was really Zhao Yuan Zhou who had saved Bai Jiu, who had stayed by his bedside the entire time. Zhou Yi Chen hadn’t done anything to find Bai Jiu, to save him, or to bring him back to life. But that didn’t matter. Bai Jiu was whole and healthy again. He was with them again, and Zhou Yi Chen was determined to enjoy that as much as he could.
He swore in his heart that from now on, he would protect Bai Jiu better. He would pay more attention to the boy’s safety. He wouldn’t let anything like this happen to him again.
“Yi Chen-ge?”
Bai Jiu’s confused voice broke through Zhou Yi Chen’s thoughts as the boy looked over his shoulder at Zhao Yuan Zhou, who was walking slowly out of the room. Zhou Yi Chen didn’t even glance back, completely ignoring the demon for now. He wanted to spend this moment in peace with Bai Jiu; he didn’t need to worry about Zhao Yuan Zhou.
“Zhao Yuan Zhou looked exhausted,” Bai Jiu said to the older hunter.
Zhou Yi Chen ignored him again. “Don’t worry about him. How do you feel?” he asked.
“I’m okay, just a little tired,” Bai Jiu replied, glancing around the room.
He knew he was at home, in his own room—the place where he should feel safest, the place that had been his sanctuary for most of his life. But suddenly, the room seemed strange, as if something about it had changed. Or maybe... it wasn’t the room that had changed but Bai Jiu himself.
He looked around again, searching for clues, but found none.
“What happened?” he finally asked, turning to Zhou Yi Chen for answers.
"We found you in an alley. You were unconscious… you’ve been asleep for a week, Xiao Bai," Zhou Yi Chen replied quickly.
Bai Jiu had a strange feeling that the man wasn’t telling him the whole truth. He didn’t know where this feeling came from, but he chose to ignore it, just as he ignored the odd sensation he felt about the room. He knew he’d have time to think about it later.
He stretched, only to feel an uncomfortable pull in his chest. He mentally added it to the growing list of things he’d ignore for now. All he wanted was to see his mother, hug his father, and apologize to the team for worrying them. Later, he wanted something warm to drink and to curl up back in bed to sleep for another week. He felt like he’d spent the past seven days cramming for an important exam without rest. Strange, especially since Zhou Yi Chen had just told him he’d been asleep the entire time.
Zhou Yi Chen helped him get dressed and leave the room. Bai Jiu’s mind remembered how to walk, but his muscles refused to cooperate. His legs felt like overcooked noodles—unsteady, trembling with every small step. He leaned heavily on Zhou Yi Chen, practically hanging off the demon hunter, but Zhou Yi Chen didn’t utter a single complaint. Bai Jiu was grateful for his quiet support.
When they finally reached the dining room, Zhao Yuan Zhou and Wen Xiao were already seated at the table. Wen Xiao was spreading a growing pile of papers before Zhao Yuan Zhou, each sheet filled with neatly written notes. Bai Jiu couldn’t help but notice the unhealthy pallor of Zhao Yuan Zhou’s skin and his hollowed cheeks. He suspected Zhao Yuan Zhou looked far more like himself than he wanted to admit. Zhao Yuan Zhou appeared utterly exhausted, as though he hadn’t slept in a week.
"Xiao Bai, how are you feeling?" Zhao Yuan Zhou asked as soon as Bai Jiu stepped through the doorway.
Bai Jiu didn’t even have a chance to open his mouth before Zhou Yi Chen cut in.
"He’s fine. Haven’t you done enough already? Focus on finding and stopping Li Lun," Zhou Yi Chen ordered curtly.
He guided Bai Jiu to the table but sat him in the furthest spot from Zhao Yuan Zhou, as far away as possible. Zhou Yi Chen then sat down beside him and silently began filling Bai Jiu’s bowl with food.
Bai Jiu looked around the room. For the first time, he felt like he was truly seeing everyone, noticing details he hadn’t before. It seemed as though faint auras emanated from his companions, like waves of energy escaping their bodies. He focused on this strange sight as he began eating.
Wen Xiao’s aura shimmered with an imperious golden radiance. It seemed to attack Zhao Yuan Zhou’s energy, forcing it to yield to her dominance. Zhao Yuan Zhou’s aura, surprisingly calm and withdrawn, was a soft red, though streaks of black occasionally surfaced, reflecting back Wen Xiao’s golden waves.
Bai Jiu discreetly glanced at Zhou Yi Chen. Only now did he notice a faint blue energy, barely clinging to the outline of Zhou Yi Chen’s form. But when Bai Jiu turned his gaze toward Zhao Yuan Zhou, Zhou Yi Chen’s aura sparked like lightning, striking out at Zhao Yuan Zhou as though trying to force him into submission.
Bai Jiu wondered if he too had an aura. He focused on his hands as he slowly ate the overly generous portion Zhou Yi Chen had served him. He couldn’t finish it, just as he couldn’t see any energy radiating from himself.
He tried to focus on the conversation at the table, but it felt as if everyone was completely ignoring his presence. He had the impression that he was witnessing a two-against-one confrontation, with Wen Xiao and Zhou Yi Chen allied against Zhao Yuan Zhou. Bai Jiu didn’t know what Zhao Yuan Zhou had done to make the demon hunters suddenly view him as an opponent. Whatever had happened between them wasn’t Bai Jiu’s responsibility, but… for some reason, he couldn’t take his eyes off Zhao Yuan Zhou’s faint, tranquil aura.
He didn’t know why he could see it, but that wasn’t important right now. What mattered was that he could see it, and as a healer, he couldn’t ignore it. Zhao Yuan Zhou looked utterly exhausted, sick, and… nearly dead. Bai Jiu couldn’t let it go, especially since Wen Xiao and Zhou Yi Chen were pressuring Zhao Yuan Zhou to leave immediately to hunt down Li Lun.
They all knew Li Lun was a powerful demon. Even at full strength, Li Lun would be a formidable challenge for Zhao Yuan Zhou. And now… they were insisting that someone so clearly weakened go after him. It looked, to Bai Jiu, as if…
"Are you trying to send him to his death?"
He asked aloud, setting his bowl down on the table. His words brought sudden silence. Wen Xiao stopped mid-sentence, genuinely startled that someone had dared interrupt her. Bai Jiu felt the weight of everyone’s gaze on him, but he didn’t flinch. A younger version of himself might have blushed and hidden behind Zhou Yi Chen under such scrutiny, but not now. He couldn’t let this go.
"Bai Jiu… you don’t understand what’s happening," Zhou Yi Chen said, adopting a patronizing tone as if he truly believed Bai Jiu was just a naïve child. "We’ve spent the past week in your home, waiting for you to recover. Li Lun is far ahead of us. We can’t afford to waste even an hour before going after him."
"Okay," Bai Jiu replied.
Zhou Yi Chen looked away, satisfied that the problem had been dealt with.
"Then go. Zhao Yuan Zhou should stay and rest," Bai Jiu added.
Once again, all eyes turned to him. He was tired of their behavior, as if every word he said challenged their authority, as if merely daring to speak against them was some unspoken breach of etiquette.
"We need a demon to track a demon," Wen Xiao stated matter-of-factly. She didn’t give Bai Jiu a chance to respond before resuming her interrupted lecture.
Bai Jiu frowned.
"Are you blind?" he asked, rising from his seat.
The weakness that had plagued him earlier seemed to vanish, as if some hidden reserves of energy within him had finally aligned with his body. He didn’t even waver as he walked around the table to stand behind Zhao Yuan Zhou. Before his accident, he would never have dared to do this. He wouldn’t have stood up to Wen Xiao or Zhou Yi Chen, and he certainly wouldn’t have gotten so close to a demon. He would never have stood in Zhao Yuan Zhou’s defense.
But now, especially after learning to see auras, he couldn’t ignore Zhao Yuan Zhou any longer.
"Or just stupid?" he continued, his tone as serious as he could muster, despite being trapped in the body of a thirteen-year-old.
To his advantage, the adults were seated at the table. Standing, he appeared taller than them, and he intended to use that to his benefit.
"Bai Jiu!"
Wen Xiao scolded him sharply.
"I'm afraid it's both," Bai Jiu replied calmly.
He reached for Zhao Yuan Zhou's wrist, intending to check the demon’s pulse and discover what exactly was happening to him. He waited a minute, then two, and finally, after five minutes of silence, he gently placed Zhao Yuan Zhou's wrist back on his thigh where his hand had previously rested. The demon made no move to protest, didn’t try to pull his wrist away, nor interfere with Bai Jiu’s examination.
"Care to explain this to me?" Bai Jiu asked, looking directly into Zhao Yuan Zhou's eyes.
The demon lowered his gaze.
"It’s nothing," Zhao Yuan Zhou answered quietly, but Bai Jiu could see his aura. The demon could no longer lie to him. Bai Jiu watched as the energy recoiled inward in embarrassment. Observing it carefully, he finally found what he was looking for. A large concentration of energy was gathered in one spot, filling a void that absolutely shouldn’t have been there.
Zhao Yuan Zhou’s energy had pooled in his chest, occupying the space where his heart once resided. Now, it was a physical void filled with energy attempting to perform the same function as the organ that had previously been there. But energy, no matter how potent, could not replace a heart.
"Zhao Yuan Zhou…" Bai Jiu whispered, realizing he should have figured it out earlier. He needed a few more seconds for his brain to catch up with his thoughts.
Zhao Yuan Zhou had no heart.
Bai Jiu felt a strange ache in his chest as his newfound abilities—the ones he had only recently acquired—provided him with the understanding he feared to acknowledge.
He knew the truth but was terrified of accepting what it meant. Why would Zhao Yuan Zhou do this for him? Why would anyone sacrifice so much for another, especially Zhao Yuan Zhou—a great demon—offering a piece of himself for Bai Jiu, a small, troublesome human who had never treated him kindly?
Tears began to fall.
They streamed down Bai Jiu’s face before he even realized it. Suddenly, everything felt overwhelming. The aggressive energy from Zhou Yi Chen and the domineering aura of Wen Xiao became unbearable. He no longer felt safe in their presence.
Without thinking, Bai Jiu threw his arms around Zhao Yuan Zhou’s neck, pulling him into an embrace.
The demon returned the hug, holding the boy close and gently patting his head in a calming gesture. For the first time, Bai Jiu allowed such contact, and… it felt nice. Much nicer than the awkward pats from Zhou Yi Chen. The embrace was far warmer than any he had ever received from Wen Xiao.
Suddenly, Zhao Yuan Zhou felt like his favorite person. He felt like the closest connection Bai Jiu had in the world. He didn’t want to leave the demon’s arms ever again.
Zhao Yuan Zhou, as if sensing Bai Jiu’s feelings, rose from the table. He wrapped one arm around Bai Jiu’s waist and used the other to lift him under his knees, pulling him closer.
"It seems this is all too much for him. I’ll take him to rest," Zhao Yuan Zhou said to Wen Xiao and Zhou Yi Chen.
But to Bai Jiu, it didn’t matter if Zhao Yuan Zhou said anything to them. The demon didn’t owe them any explanations. Neither of them was his superior. Bai Jiu, though a teenager, wasn’t their child either, so they had no right to demand answers from him.
"Take me to your place," Bai Jiu whispered, refusing to let go of Zhao Yuan Zhou.
He only relaxed his hold when he felt the warm air envelop them—a sensation he recognized as the result of the teleportation spell. It always left his skin tingling slightly, like being near lightning.
He exhaled with relief.
Finally, they were in a truly safe place.
"Will you explain this to me, please?" Bai Jiu asked timidly, loosening his grip around Zhao Yuan Zhou’s neck.
The demon set him down gently, allowing Bai Jiu to move away as far as he felt comfortable. But, to his own surprise, Bai Jiu realized he didn’t want to move away. He stayed just half a step from Zhao Yuan Zhou, watching the demon carefully.
The demon’s energy seemed to settle in the familiar surroundings. Bai Jiu liked it better this way. He never wanted to see Zhao Yuan Zhou’s aura so stifled again, as it had been around Wen Xiao and Zhou Yi Chen.
"It’s a long story," Zhao Yuan Zhou began. "In short, I transferred my heart to you because yours was shattered. I could force it to work, but every time the energy flow was disrupted or severed, your heart would stop again."
He turned and walked toward ZYZ’s favorite spot in the house. Straight to the swing. With a gesture, he invited Bai Jiu to sit on it, then began gently pushing him back and forth.
“It will serve you well for your entire life. You don’t need to worry,” ZYZ reassured him.
BJ turned his head to meet the demon’s eyes.
“I’m not worried about myself. I trust you, Zhao Yuan Zhou. I’m worried about you,” he admitted sincerely.
ZYZ smiled, but it was a sad smile, weighed down with grief and longing.
“I’ll be fine. I just need some time to replenish my energy.”
“Alright. Then we’ll stay here until you do,” BJ declared firmly.
ZYZ froze for a moment in the middle of his motion.
“That… will take too long. We need to find Li Lun. We have to stop him before he accomplishes… whatever it is he’s planning.”
“And we will,” the boy agreed. “But this is more important. You can’t go there—you can’t fight him—when you look like a strong gust of wind could knock you over.”
ZYZ laughed, but the sound lacked any real cheer.
“Why do you suddenly sound so grown-up, kid?” he teased, ruffling BJ’s hair.
For the first time since he’d woken up that morning, BJ realized that his thoughts and actions had been very different from what he was used to. And then… his bell.
When ZYZ ruffled his hair, there was no familiar jingle of the bell.
“My bell…” he muttered, reaching for the spot behind his left ear where it was always clipped. His fingers found nothing but his hair, tied in a simple ponytail at the top of his head.
“I have it, don’t worry,” ZYZ said, pulling the small bell out of his sleeve. He handed it to the boy, who quickly clipped it back into his hair and shook his head a few times.
Jingle-jingle-jingle.
The soft sound rang out from the golden bell. BJ exhaled in relief.
“Well, so much for being grown-up, huh, kid?” ZYZ remarked with a smile.
“I still think you need to recover before you go to fight Li Lun,” BJ said stubbornly, but the mature tone from earlier had vanished. He looked at ZYZ, focusing intently on him. He didn’t see anything unusual, no demon’s aura. He saw him as he always had. And yet… he felt much more at ease in his presence.
He added that oddity to the list of things he wouldn’t dwell on for now. Even if the bell carried a suppression charm, it didn’t matter. BJ loved his bell, and he didn’t need to see auras to know whom he could trust. He already knew—and he would never choose wrong again.
“Let’s just rest here for a while,” he said, giving in to the gentle motion of the swing.
He closed his eyes, focusing inward, on the calm rhythm of the heart in his chest. A rhythm so familiar, yet so alien at the same time.
BJ had a lifetime to get used to it.