Archive of Our Own

"Zhu Yan is close?" his younger self asked, so obviously hopeful it made Li Lun sick. Had he been so dependent on him in the beginning?

"We live separately," Li Lun said definitively. "Sit on the ground and meditate."

Disobedient and far too strong-willed, his younger self glanced at him, up and down. As if assessing an opponent. Li Lun resisted the urge to grind his teeth.

"You don't want me to see him," the sapling said, suspicion tugging at his brow. Was that all it took to doubt himself? Li Lun stood before him, with centuries and centuries of cultivation techniques and knowledge, all of it tuned to himself. He could improve the sapling's performance tenfold with only a few days of focus. But all that discarded—discarded because he missed Zhu Yan's cock?

He could hiss at him now, call him pathetic, slam him to the ground and force him to listen. But he knew himself, knew an easier way for both of them.

"Zhu Yan threw us away. You'll be embarrassing both of us by running back there begging for it."

The sapling stalled, finally taking a moment to think properly. "What happened?"

"I avenged murdered yao. Zhu Yan tried to stop me. He failed, but he did lasting harm. I spent 8 years alone, imprisoned, burning from the inside out." Finally, an eye twitch from the sapling. Fear of fire finally allowing him perspective? "Eventually it burned my body. I was forced to recultivate."

"That…" the sapling frowned. "Imprisoned? He didn't visit you?"

"Not once."

A mere shake of the head. "I should… I want to talk to him. You must misunderstand each other."

Li Lun laughed, shocked at the stupidity. "You think he threw me to the ground, but would hesitate with you? You think your youth would buy you something? That he'd at least fuck you first?"

"Why are you so desperate to keep us apart? If I humiliate myself, it's my business."

Then Li Lun did step forward. Fine. He could physically prevent him from doing something stupid.

The sapling shifted, not quite stupid enough not to recognize aggression. "You have far less energy than I do. You're obviously newly recultivated."

Magnitude wasn't a marker of strength. Let him learn that lesson first.

Li Lun knew every single move before the sapling made it. He snapped the root that darted at him before it even made it halfway to him, scalding the base of it with a small pinprick of fire. It would be enough. The sapling flinched, stepping back, and Li Lun advanced.

A straightforward open-handed blast of energy directed towards his chest; he directed it through and away from him, rendering the massive wave useless. He was intimately familiar with this energy, the way it moved, the methods the sapling would employ and when.

Li Lun knew now how to use lesser amounts of qi effectively, how to push sharply with smaller knives at more delicate spots. Between the sapling's stomping brute force attacks, Li Lun threw a thin strand of Zhuo Yichen's qi right into the sapling's lower dantian, quick and precise and meant to sting. It did.

The sapling's eyes went wide with the unfamiliar signature, ice cold and within him at such a venerable place. Li Lun didn't wait for him to gasp, he simply looped a root around his upper body and pulled him hard to the dirt ground.

He gasped, breath ripped from him, and Li Lun pressed slowly and confidently down at the paralytic acupoint. He'd be able to talk and writhe a bit, but little else. Li Lun settled down on his hips, looking down at him with disappointment.

The sapling tried to bear his teeth at him; Li Lun shook his head slowly. "I've beaten you. Why don't you think it through instead of posturing pointlessly? I've just taught you something."

He tried to jerk underneath him. Li Lun sighed. What else did it take?

"Get off me," the sapling spat.

"No," Li Lun said primly. "If you're so desperate for it, maybe I should just fuck you myself." He knew how to do it just as well as Zhu Yan did.

The sapling's eyes widened and finally, finally he stilled. Li Lun watched him swallow.

"You hate me," the sapling said. "Why? You're jealous of what I still have?"

"I won't let you embarrass us," Li Lun corrected. "I don't hate you." The bones of himself were still here, underneath the youth. The energy signature was the same, the attention to detail was the same, the sheer power was just the same as what he remembered having.

The sapling only glared at him. Then, his jaw tightened, and he called out for help. "Zhu Yan!"

Li Lun had a hand clamped over his mouth a second too late. "Idiot!" he spat. "Eight years, I said! Did you not listen? He will not come for you!"

The sapling made to bite him; the paralysis was too strong for it to be effective. Li Lun allowed him to embarrass himself, trying to draw blood, before finally giving up and slumping to the floor.

The sapling said something, quiet, muffled by the hand. Li Lun released his mouth but kept it close by, pressed firmly to his cheek.

Irritated but stymied for now, the sapling ground out the same thing again, low and annoyed. "What was it you put in me."

"Now you want to learn from me?" Li Lun said archly.

"You found someone to replace Zhu Yan?" the sapling accused.

"And if I did?" Li Lun said icily. "We can't have other toys?"

The sapling looked away, huffing, but Li Lun's hand on its face prevented him from going far. He looked stupid and naive, eyes averted but face unmoving.

But there were details in the sapling's favor. The proud and unmasked yao marks, the undeniably inhuman clothing, the strong and stable aura— even if Li Lun beat him, it didn't mean he wasn't strong. There were very few creatures left that could best him.

Li Lun knew shame wouldn't motivate him. He'd have to try something different if he wanted the sapling to become his ally and subordinate. He moved his hand up, swiping a thumb from the cheek upwards, giving him plenty of warning before it made contact with the mark there. The sapling jerked slightly but said nothing.

"You're not weak," Li Lun said, adding pressure with the pad of his thumb, "just because I can best you. I am you, and I was never weak."

The sapling made a rough sound of neither agreement nor disagreement. "You said you could do it just as good as Zhu Yan. That's not how he does it."

Li Lun resisted rolling his eyes. Could he think about anything else? Fine. He did know how Zhu Yan moved, and he could do it better. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned down towards the sapling's face. He still had his eyes averted, but there was a touch of something warm on his cheeks. Did the idiot not know how to control himself, or did he think so little of Li Lun he didn't bother?

Keeping his hold on the sapling firm, Li Lun closed his eyes and pressed his lips to the mark, featherlight and lingering. This he remembered very well.

The roots he had looped around his torso felt just a slight amount of squirming; the pulse in the wrist he had pinned to the dirt sped obviously. Li Lun almost laughed. Was he so easy? But no, no, Zhu Yan wouldn't laugh at him. He'd make an encouraging sound or call him beautiful or describe, in great detail, how his own body was responding to Li Lun's pleasure.

Li Lun couldn't muster up Zhu Yan's stupid words, so he hummed with a little hint of pride, enough to get the sapling desperate for more approval. He knew himself well; when he lifted his other hand from the sapling's wrist, placing it on the other side of his face, there wasn't so much as a hint of new struggle.

He took his time, like Zhu Yan would, kissing softly at the mark again while his other hand drew long lines along his jaw. Another kiss, and then he allowed a small swipe of the tongue, warm heat on a place he knew it to be exquisite. The sapling expelled a breath with only barely enough voice to be called a whimper. Li Lun rewarded him by dragging his nail down the other one.

The sapling grabbed onto Li Lun's side with one hand, fisting into the fabric there. Li Lun paused for a moment, breathing on the moisture he'd left behind, but there was no more movement. Either the sapling had untangled the paralysis intentionally and decided to continue, or he simply hadn't noticed he'd moved. Either way, it was admittedly impressive. Even young and stupid he'd been strong.

"Zhu Yan—" the sapling said, sounding so frustrated it was laughable. "Zhu Yan wouldn't be quiet for so long."

It would be easy to make him beg for it— but he was trying to coax loyalty from him, not push him away. Without lifting himself up, Li Lun moved his lips down the sapling's face, hovering finally over the lips. Steadily, his nail continued moving back and forth. He knew how that felt. He remembered the shock he'd felt the first time Zhu Yan had touched him there. He knew how curious he'd been at this age, what other pleasures had been unknown to him.

"I can show you other things," Li Lun said into his own lips. "Things Zhu Yan doesn't know."

Li Lun knew what the sapling was thinking, as his lips twitched slightly under his. There was nothing about him that Zhu Yan didn't know.

"Did you think we discovered nothing about ourselves in those eight years alone?" he asked, dipping his head down slightly for a kiss.

Predictably, the sapling was unresponsive, even as he let it happen. Always wanting Zhu Yan to do all the work. Li Lun did as he knew he liked: small changes slowly, taking the bottom lip between his teeth, then sucking on the marks he left. Unhurried, unbothered by the sapling's lack of movement. It didn't mean disinterest; he knew that keenly.

He'd only just started a slow slide of tongue along the inside of the sapling's lip when the door burst open, Zhu Yan's energy signature too apparent for panic to set in. He didn't even look up; if Zhu Yan had something to say, he could say it and leave.

"Li Lun," Zhu Yan said, shocked.

"What," Li Lun said, fisting fingers into the sapling's head to turn it back towards him. "I'm busy."

"You called for me," Zhu Yan said.

Humiliation ran through him like ice, stilling even his heartbeat. Zhu Yan was here because the sapling had called for him.

"What's going on?" Zhu Yan asked. The sapling turned its head away again. This time, Li Lun let it happen. He wouldn't be able to best both of them if they joined together against him. He waited for the sapling to shake him off; he didn't.

"Zhu Yan," the sapling said, far too obviously in love.

"He doesn't need help," Li Lun snapped. "Piss off."

"Li Lun, there are two of you," Zhu Yan said, stating the obvious. "Let me help."

"Help with what?" Li Lun didn't dare take his eyes off the sapling; one moment of distraction, and they'd go running off together. "If you want to watch, be silent."

Zhu Yan said nothing; Li Lun saw, reflected in the heat of the sapling's expression, Zhu Yan's own want. Predictable. He could just beg for it from the start and save them all time. What was he doing? Asking the sapling for silent permission? Looking at both of them, assessing the position? He'd already laid the sapling out skillfully, and he was still holding onto Li Lun's arm. He'd made so much progress; he wouldn't let Zhu Yan ruin it.

"Zhu Yan," the sapling started, probably meaning to beg for touch. Li Lun wrenched his head back and pressed into his mouth before he could embarrass them both any further.

The sapling didn't know to be ashamed; he was a little louder, now, when Li Lun slid his tongue across his. Li Lun almost snapped at him to be silent—but a little noise only told Zhu Yan he wasn't needed here.

"Zhu Yan—" the sapling tried to say in the bare moment his lips were free. Li Lun bit him harder, scraping his teeth along one lip. "Would give—" His fingers on the sapling's yao marks were pressing almost hard enough to draw blood. He'd never done that before, would it be good? "He'd pass me qi," the sapling finished, out of breath and still using it to demand more.

He wanted an energy exchange? Li Lun never opened that door unless he was certain it wouldn't be used against him. Not even to bribe a potentially useful ally into compliance. "No," he said bluntly.

"You don't trust yourself?" the sapling snapped. "Let him do it, then, since you can't be bothered."

He wouldn't let Zhu Yan play with what was his first. He also knew he couldn't keep him interested with only no. He'd have to offer something else.

"Think it can't be good without it?" Li Lun asked, sending only a pinprick of his own energy through the mark and closing off any potential reciprocation. The sapling's exhale shook. "Think it can't be good without him?"

Li Lun knew for certain he thought so. He remembered that time in the beginning, after the first time Zhu Yan made him come. The way curiosity opened in him, finding something good in it, despite it being rooted in the body he felt so disconnected to. He remembered also his early attempts to make his body respond in the way it did to Zhu Yan: the way he would slick his own fingers, slick his own roots, to try and fuck himself alone. He'd failed, again and again, to make himself come, before finally deciding it was easier just to demand it of Zhu Yan every time instead. Zhu Yan was always eager to please him anyway.

And then that ended.

"Show me something good, then," the sapling said, too aroused to sound truly irritated.

Li Lun lifted himself up, considering how to undress him. He could do it the slow way. He could also make use of Zhu Yan.

He turned his head. There he was, sitting on the dirt floor, poised like he might start meditating. If not for the obvious want in his eye, Li Lun might think he didn't care about what was happening. Zhu Yan tilted his head, asking him for what he wanted without opening his mouth. He'd been silent for so long—he really wanted to watch so badly? He should pay for it somehow.

"Spell his clothes off," he demanded. "Leave mine."

Zhu Yan looked down to the sapling, asking permission. Li Lun wanted to shake him. This was himself, and he was older. He had bested him. All decisions were his decisions.

Zhu Yan must have found his permission, because the one-word magic filled the room a moment later. Li Lun looked down at the sapling's empty canvas, concentrating. In what order had he tried things in the cave? In what order would the sapling find most impressive now?

"Here is why you've always failed," Li Lun said, taking his hand and moving it to his own cock. Barely audible, Zhu Yan's indrawn breath was just a touch louder. "You only want the orgasm. Deny yourself one entirely, and it will be better. Try."

The sapling looked up at him, frowning. Li Lun could hear what he was thinking—he didn't want to be the one doing all the work.

"This is stupid," the sapling said, even as he curled his hand around himself. "He's right there, why not use him?"

You won't always have him, he wanted to snap. "I'm teaching you, not asking you to do the same thing you always do. Slick your hand."

"You said it couldn't be good," the sapling argued, now more obviously flushed. And Zhu Yan could see it—had he always looked this way?

"I said you couldn't come," Li Lun said, grabbing the sapling's hand and slicking it with his own spell. "But you're still going to beg for it."

"I'm—" the sapling hesitated for a moment, trying to pretend the slow way he touched himself had no effect on him— "the one doing the work. I don't have to beg anyone."

"Oh?" Li Lun watched the sapling fuck his hand with poor form. He needed it tighter, he needed to linger more at the head. Let him figure it out. "If you're so self sufficient, come by yourself then."

The sapling glared at him. "What are you teaching me, exactly?"

Li Lun reached for his other wrist and brought his hand, without gentleness, to the yao mark on that side. "Touch here."

"I already know that feels good. You think I don't know?" he huffed, turning his head toward Zhu Yan. Li Lun saw from his profile how all of the real irritation fell from his face. He didn't lower himself to begging, but the look was still humiliating.

If the sapling looked to him one more time…

"Stop thinking of it as his hand," Li Lun said, sending a stinging spear of icy energy into the back of the sapling's hand. He gasped, movement stopping, head finally looking back up at him. "It's your hand. It's mine."

The sapling, a bit stunned, tried to pull his hand away in a daze. Li Lun's hand came over his, palm wrapping around the back of his own hand, and squeezed.

The sapling's obviously attempted to smother any reaction—and failed.

Li Lun, of course, had never fantasized about being overpowered. There had never been anyone capable of it—only Zhu Yan as a perfect match of equal on equal—and he would have hated it besides.

This younger version of himself was looking up at him like the concept had occurred to his young, stupid mind for the first time. His eyes traced the length of Li Lun's hair, lingered for a bare moment on the yao marks near his temple, dipped down to his mouth, scattered over near his shoulder. His gaze was quick; he thought Li Lun wouldn't notice as long as he darted quickly enough. As if he expected Li Lun not to pay enough attention, not to know exactly where to look.

The sapling made not one word of protest. He knew himself. That was as good as begging for it.

Fine. Whatever it took to get the sapling to stop looking at Zhu Yan.

He leaned down again, one hand around the sapling's hand and cock, the other braced by his head. He squeezed his hand again, encouraging movement, and this time he finally obeyed—slowly, inefficiently, but following the small directions from Li Lun's own hand. With his mouth hovering over the sapling's lips, he paused. He should show him again, without any doubt, that he was stronger. That Li Lun knew the sapling's body better than he knew it.

Keeping the movement of his hand steady—not allowing the sapling's grip to loosen, guiding the sapling to linger in better places— Li Lun brushed his lips against his own and wound a root, with obvious intent, around the sapling's neck.

He didn't squirm away from it, didn't argue, didn't attempt to fight back. His hand probably still stung from where Li Lun had applied a precise amount of foreign energy. The only indication that the sapling understood what was happening at all was the slight shake of the indrawn breath, the incredibly small lifting of the sapling's chin.

"Not going to fight for it?" Li Lun taunted, kissing him chastely again, just a dry brush of lips. "Not going to try and flip me?"

A twitch of the sapling's lip—a bit of tension right as Li Lun kissed him again. He wanted more, he wanted it rougher. Li Lun would go deliberately slowly.

"I know what you would do," Li Lun said quietly. His root wound all the way around the sapling's throat now, just resting there, no tension yet. "You'd strike at the side with a hand, send a root to burrow into the other side. I'd be distracted, and you'd be able to get a leg over me. Hm?"

He was right—the sapling's hand flexed almost imperceptibly under his, but the hand still obeyed his direction. Long, firm strokes up and down his cock, a slow twist of the wrist by the head, all slick from Li Lun's own spell.

In a slight increment, Li Lun tightened the root around the sapling's neck, just enough that his heart would race with the danger. The sapling would know Li Lun wouldn't kill himself without cause, would put himself first above all others, that every one of Li Lun's actions was borne from a wish to teach him, to guide him, to make him stronger.

But the pressure did the trick—Li Lun's lips almost moved into a smile, feeling the way the sapling's cock twitched in their hands. That wasn't something easily hidden; it had always annoyed him. Worse had been the obvious way he'd react while Zhu Yan was inside him, movement there not easily quelled.

He wanted to feel that too.

The sapling would be used to Zhu Yan's slow movements, scanning his face constantly for nonverbal demands for more or less. Li Lun knew him better than he knew himself, so he didn't have to slow down to look. Leaving the sapling to deal with his cock himself, he pulled on one of the sapling's legs with a root, allowing Li Lun to reach down and enter him with one slick finger.

The sapling made no noise, but Li Lun knew exactly what he was accustomed to. The gentle touches on his thighs, the soft pleading for it, the slow, slick touches over his hole first. Li Lun watched his face, fucking him with one finger, and the sapling looked right back at him. His eyes were just wide enough to indicate great shock, his thigh twitching under the root—and he pulsed, hot, around Li Lun's finger.

Li Lun looked down pointedly at the sapling's hand, which had frozen. Attempting to look as though he was totally unaffected, the sapling visibly steeled himself, setting upon the pattern Li Lun had taught him. Li Lun rewarded him with another finger, pressing firmly where he'd want it. Audibly wet in the quiet room, there was nothing else to hear except the sapling's quiet struggle to maintain controlled breath. Zhu Yan wasn't chattering tirelessly, begging for the sapling's release, showering him with praise and encouragement. No words, just the sapling's wide-open expression, eyes tracking his every movement, Zhu Yan quiet and unacknowledged in the corner of the room.

Slipping his fingers out, Li Lun knowing with accuracy the specific type of tight-lipped sound it would prompt the sapling to make, he lifted his body up only as much as he needed to press the sapling's legs further back.

"My clothes," he told Zhu Yan without looking at him. In a moment it was done, his skin bare. At least he could follow simple directions. He had half a mind to use Zhu Yan to slick himself, also—but he wanted to show the sapling that there was a difference in using someone to prove their deference and leaning so heavily on help that you forgot how to do it yourself. It was quickly done to draw a wet hand over his cock and press it, unrelenting, into the sapling. He didn't need to rely on the twitching of internal muscles to know he was affected; the sapling's mouth had fallen slightly open. Li Lun traced it, again and again, with his eyes. Surely he had never looked this blown apart when Zhu Yan had fucked him.

Li Lun settled down across him, arms over the sapling's thighs. "Not used to it when the other person isn't begging for it the whole time?" Li Lun taunted.

"Why should I be?" the sapling tried to snap. Li Lun laughed; surely he'd meant to sound more detached than that. He noted, with a bit of unexpected pride, that the root around his throat was somewhat reminiscent of a collar.

The sapling would be the perfect kind of subordinate, once he finally divested himself of Zhu Yan and swore himself to Li Lun. They had a clear hierarchy, Li Lun unquestionably the leader between them. Loyalty to him would be simple and sure—who better to instill unconditional respect than one's older self?

Leaning down further, beginning a slow grind of his hips, he brushed his lips against the collar, against the skin just adjacent to it. He felt the sapling stop a swallow midway through. Was it that obvious when he did it?

It would be too good for the sapling soon; he could already feel the way the sapling's hand was becoming more insistent on himself. Predicting the tantrum to follow, he reached between them and took the sapling's hand away from himself.

There was only a bare moment of tension, a breath in which the sapling's outrage made him resist the pull. And then, he must realize the reality of the situation: of Li Lun's weight above him, of Li Lun's understanding of his every move before he took it, of the root heavy around his neck.

"I already told you the rules," Li Lun said, breath hot against his collar.

"Zhu Yan," the sapling said, pathetic. Li Lun clenched his jaw in anger. If the sapling wanted to beg someone, it should be him. "He's not letting me come."

Li Lun could tighten the collar, not allow him to draw breath, not allow him to whine. But this way… he could call out to him, find out for himself how useless Zhu Yan was now. He was not someone to lean on. Li Lun was.

Predictably, Zhu Yan was silent. Li Lun had told him he could watch if he said nothing. Zhu Yan knew that Li Lun would use the first violation of that rule as an excuse to kick him out.

But this… the sapling squirming just slightly under him, and Zhu Yan's quiet indrawn breath. This might be better. Both of them following his orders, both of them answering to him. And in exchange: the sapling gets his lesson, and Zhu Yan gets to watch.

"Zhu Yan," the sapling said again, his gritted teeth not hiding the obvious wet texture of tears in his voice. Suddenly Li Lun was ravenous for them.

"Spoiled and expectant," Li Lun chastised. With deliberate slowness, he moved his way up to the sapling's mouth. "You're too focused on the demand to learn anything yourself."

But he knew what it had felt like, he understood the sapling like no one else would. He could have demanded anything from Zhu Yan: to come, again and again, on his tongue. To change forms and experience a different feeling. To demand it this way, that way, again. And always Zhu Yan would agree—would beg to be allowed.

"Focus on this," he said sternly, through a firm thrust of his hips. "This part, without the next part. This is also good."

"No, it isn't," the sapling said through his teeth. Li Lun saw the glistening in his eyes when he blinked. "Are you stupid? Or are you deluding yourself? Are you still unable to—"

Li Lun tightened the collar, anger making his skin flare with phantom burn, and the sapling's words ended in a choked stop. He waited, watching the sapling struggle, Li Lun's hips moving through it—the shift of Zhu Yan's clothing, a warning—and then released the tension. The sapling inhaled raggedly, exhaling in a shaking attempt at recomposing himself. It was so obviously a failure that Li Lun felt a tug of sympathy.

"That's not how you beg," Li Lun corrected, kissing him as he tried to quietly heave for breath. Really, it wasn't the sapling's fault at all. He needed practice. He needed someone who wouldn't fold to him immediately.

Li Lun lowered his stomach even more, rubbing slick and intentional against the sapling's cock. A couple of slow slides—Li Lun knew exactly how far he could go—and he rose up just enough to break contact. Below him, the sapling's face finally crumpled with defeat, his eyes closing, face turning away from Zhu Yan. Away from Zhu Yan.

"Please," the sapling said, quiet but correct.

Li Lun had never begged easily. This was a testament to how skillfully he'd pushed him, how well he'd shown the sapling that he was worthy of it. The sapling knew he was helpless without him: knew that if Li Lun pulled out, he wouldn't be able to finish himself. Begging was the only way he'd get what he wanted.

"Good," Li Lun praised quietly, suddenly much closer to his own orgasm than he'd thought possible. The sapling shuddered. "Again."

A tear fell, glistening, down the sapling's cheek. For Li Lun to see, hidden from Zhu Yan. "Please," he said again, a beautiful mix of frustration and reluctant obedience in his voice.

Li Lun wouldn't beg an enemy; he'd rather die than beg someone he didn't respect. The sapling felt safe enough with him to let go, to shed his exterior for the chance at pleasure. He wouldn't let him down. He'd take responsibility for him, shelter him, teach him. The sapling knew Li Lun would take good care of his subordinates.

"Look," he said gently, taking the sapling's chin and turning it the other way. The sapling blinked his eyes open, looking at Zhu Yan, breath becoming more unsteady. "He's also not allowed to come. He doesn't even get this: this, here."

Li Lun felt the sapling twitch around him, reacting to the words. Li Lun drew a slow hand between them, along the stomach, aiming to show him that the touch alone was good in its own right. But—

On Zhu Yan's unsteady inhale, the sapling gave a small sob. His stomach flexed beneath his hand, spine trying to lengthen within its constraints, and he pulsed around him, coming on Li Lun's cock completely untouched.

Li Lun had a quick moment to decide between pride and disappointment. He'd never—he'd never done that. Even Zhu Yan had never gotten him to come like that before. Was it a testament to Li Lun's skill? Or—or was it only because Zhu Yan was there, watching him, so obviously aroused and wanting?

The sapling was just struck dumb, looking at Zhu Yan, doing nothing else but breathe. Li Lun's hand was dirty, splattered with his come. Which direction to approach this—which would the sapling respect more? A firm hand or a gentle one?

Li Lun pulled out; he should at least look at him first. And—there, good. The sapling's face, so obviously tearful, was so foreign to him like this. When was the last time he'd looked like this? Had he ever?

"Call me Daren," Li Lun said, looking down at him severely.

The sapling's throat tried to work through a swallow underneath the collar. His eyes fluttered about him again, at his hair, his yao marks, his lips. This time, he was aware of Li Lun watching him do it—but aware, too, that it would be part of his role. Expected of him. "Daren," he answered, finally.

"How will you atone for your mistake?" Li Lun asked, lifting his soiled hand and placing it on the sapling's thigh. His eyes twitched to it, embarrassment moving the corners of his mouth.

"I'll clean it," the sapling said, tone promising. Li Lun let the approval show on his face.

It would be more satisfying to make him do it without a spell—to have the sapling bathe his whole body with his hands. But his hand itched to be clean now.

"Go ahead," Li Lun said, not releasing the collar over his throat. He could clearly speak just fine around it.

The sapling lifted his fingers to his mouth, and Li Lun felt his own energy wash over him. The sapling was thorough, the spell efficient and well-executed, ridding him of grime from his fingers down through the rest of him.

"Good," Li Lun said, sitting back, allowing the sapling's legs to relax downward. "Now you'll lie here and reflect on your mistake."

The sapling forgot himself and tried to jerk upwards, putting sudden pressure on his throat. He pressed his head back down, wincing slightly. Li Lun allowed him the time to gather himself. "You haven't come," he said, finally, looking a bit too much like a rejected lover. Li Lin had never behaved like that.

"No," he said, not allowing argument. The sapling frowned, slightly, and Li Lun grit his teeth.

He stood, turning to Zhu Yan, facing him fully for the first time. His expression—was too complicated to bother untangling. There was no need for Li Lun to feel guilt for something Zhu Yan had run into willingly.

"Dress both of us," he demanded. He watched Zhu Yan raise his fingers to his lips. He could get used to this, to being obeyed so easily.

In an instant, he was clothed again. He cast a glance at the sapling, whose well-being was now his responsibility, and found the situation adequate.

Li Lun sharpened his gaze when he looked back at Zhu Yan. "Out," Li Lun demanded. He wouldn't allow Zhu Yan to be with the sapling alone.

"You're leaving me?" the sapling said.

Li Lun wanted to glare at him for the audacity. Instead he looked at him levelly. "I will not allow you to come to harm. You will reflect on your mistake while we have a discussion outside. In the future, I will not be expected to explain myself to you. Understood?"

The sapling hesitated—Li Lun debated forcing a Daren from him again. "Understood," he said, a tad too testily. He'd have to be dealt with again soon.

Zhu Yan cast a gaze over the sapling, soft, before finally following Li Lun's command and leaving. Li Lun had only just taken just a bare footstep outside before he saw Wen Xiao sitting there propped up against the wall, notebook in hand. He had half a moment to feel all-consuming rage before she spoke.

"Before you ask," Wen Xiao said, not even looking up at him. "No, I couldn't hear. Zhao Yuanzhou spelled it for you. He said he'd signal me if he needed my help."

Help? As if she could help him any more than Zhu Yan could. "If he needed to take both of us prisoner, you mean."

"Both of you?" she asked, raising a brow. "What do you mean, both?"

Zhu Yan cleared his throat. "I thought you might need her," he explained uselessly. "You don't often call for help, I thought I wouldn't be enough. I've only just recultivated too."

You don't often call for help. As if it was still an option. As if Zhu Yan would come running to help him with anything.

"And…" Zhu Yan continued awkwardly, wincing slightly. "There are two of him somehow."

Li Lun bristled at the description. Somehow. He hadn't even asked how. Even if Li Lun didn't know, he should ask first.

"Is it permanent?" Wen Xiao asked, poising her pen like she would transcribe the answer. Li Lun glared at her.

"I don't think anyone knows," Zhu Yan said. "One is much younger. He only knows me."

Wen Xiao stood, assessing Li Lun's expression. "Are you… living here together? Or are you coming back with us?"

She was asking if the younger one was coming with them. The idea was nauseating. Worse still was the truth: the sapling would insist upon it, and with both Zhu Yan and the Baize Goddess here, there was nothing he could do to stop it. The sapling would go running after Zhu Yan, and Li Lun would be forced to trail after him.

He'd have to go with him and try to mitigate the damage.

—

It was worse than he realized.

They all slept on some gigantic sleeping mat— not only were they unwilling to sleep on the dirt, they needed layer upon layer on top of it. Li Lun glared at the mat, the blankets, the thick quilt.

Zhuo Yichen came to his side, knowing better to touch without permission, but his hand twitched towards Li Lun's elbow in way that indicated distress. "You're sure you want to stay?"

Li Lun obviously wasn't sleeping here, not with the archer casting irritated glances at him and the Baize Goddess rolling her eyes when he so much as bared his teeth. And— and Zhu Yan's demeanor was not worth mentioning.

The sapling was sitting under the horrible quilt, looking vaguely uncomfortable, while the rest of them buzzed around doing meaningless things. The sapling was still a tree, even if he was a stupid one, and the thought of sleeping under a roof on false soil was equally as odd to him. But he was also irritatingly compliant. He wanted to cuddle up to Zhu Yan so bad, he was willing to take all these discomforts in stride? He was, at least, frowning back at the archer when she assessed him.

But these people were vouched for by his precious Zhu Yan. He might think them off-putting and annoying, but he still put great stock in Zhu Yan's opinion.

"You can be on the end, then, if you want?" Zhuo Yichen asked, speaking to him like he was some quivering animal.

Li Lun clenched his jaw. He wanted to be as far away as possible from all the others— but he needed to prevent the sapling from making a fool of himself in as much was possible. He couldn't force the sapling to the very end, he'd throw a fit in front of everyone that way. Fine, then. The sapling could be next to Zhu Yan, and then Li Lun next to the sapling… and then Zhuo Yichen at Li Lun's other side. He could keep an eye on his younger self without touching Zhu Yan, remaining as far from the others as possible. He could place Zhuo Yichen on Zhu Yan's other side for more distance from the Baize Goddess… but no. It was good to have him close; he followed directions well. If Li Lun wanted him up to keep watch, he'd do so. If he wanted to kiss him in front of the sapling, Zhuo Yichen wouldn't argue.

He settled, with great disdain, onto his back next to the sapling. Slowly, the others settled down also. He could feel the electricity of the sapling's irritation when Zhu Yan did not immediately plead with him to cuddle, and Li Lun smirked. The sapling certainly wasn't going to ask for it. Perhaps this wouldn't be as painful as he thought.

Zhuo Yichen's presence was steady and strong on his other side, both warm and ice cold. Li Lun gave him a small tilt of his chin, silent order, and turned on his side facing the sapling. Zhuo Yichen's arm came to rest, obedient, over his chest. A long line of warmth settled against his back.

The sapling tried not to look at him from the corner of his eye; failed. Li Lun wondered if he might be persuaded.

Li Lun waved his band. "Come here," he bid, allowing no hesitation into his voice.

The sapling looked at Zhu Yan first—the cowardly, stupid traitor. But Zhu Yan just gave him one of his slow, reassuring blinks, as if Zhu Yan personally wanted to see the two of them together. Fine. If he got off on it, it was fine.

The sapling turned to his side, hedging closer to him almost shyly—which was stupid, he'd never been shy. He pulled the sapling closer to him, trying to ignore the sounds of the Baize Goddess kissing the archer. Zhu Yan lay still on his back next to the sapling, closing his eyes, like this was a perfectly comfortable environment for him. Li Lun wanted to draw blood from the sapling, dig his teeth into the artery in front of him and pull, just to make someone snap out of it.

He wouldn't sleep—but even if he did want to doze, Li Lun could still order Zhuo Yichen not to sleep. He'd obey. He trusted no one else to watch over him—and certainly not his younger self. But Zhuo Yichen's breath was deepening against his neck, a sensation he was suddenly unwilling to deny himself.

The sapling's hair was soft against his face, even if it wasn't as long as his yet. Zhuo Yichen should be grateful.

Sudden and strong, rain began to fall heavy on the roof above them. The clatter of the raindrops on the idiotic roof tiles was almost… musical, almost pleasant. The small house shook with thunder; wind rattled at the windows. It was a powerful storm, and he could hear the rustle of the nearby trees, could almost feel the water absorb into the soil himself.

Li Lun was asleep before he'd had a chance to worry about the possibility.