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"Do Sentinels get lonely?"
Hsin laughed.
It started low and escaped before she could stop it, and once it was out she couldn't seem to put it back, refusing to recede until her ribs ached, tears of joy on the corners of her eyes. Composure did eventually creep its way back into her, like a tide returning to a shore.
Qingxiao was still looking at her, raising an eyebrow.
Hsin burst out laughing again, louder this time, smothering her face in the blanket. Her tail went swishing sideways, sending a little pillow she’d been given flying to the grass, unable to contain her mirth.
…She caught Qingxiao still looking at her.
It set her off a third but final time, weaker this time, which she had to stop by pressing a hand over her own mouth. Gradually, the muffled giggles died down into shaky breaths, so Hsin let the blanket slip down past her nose. The night air was once again filled with nothing but the sound of crickets. She lay there sideways, looking at her through a mess of tangled hair, spent.
"What?" she eventually managed.
Qingxiao lifted an eyebrow again.
It was deep night on the mountain. They lay on the grass beyond Qingxiao’s little shack, the land spreading out below. The thin blanket over them was doing an inadequate job against the cold, which is to say it was there more for preserving some thin shred of modesty than genuinely protect them from the elements. Neither of them had deemed it necessary to complain about this arrangement, however; the delicate silken sheet was more than enough to quell the stiff points of their teats under the glow of moonlight, framing their curves and the swell of their chests just the same. Their clothes were inside… somewhere? Draped over … the window, if Hsin remembered correctly, which she only half did. In her own defense, she had been distracted; with said distraction now laying next to her under the fabric. Her hair, as white as ever, spilled loose for once over Qingxiao's shoulder. Her ears gave a minute little twitch. Her tail had not stopped moving for the better part of an hour, and it showed no sign of tiring.
One could say this was a long time coming. One could say it was not that long at all, especially from a Sentinel’s perspective. In truth, Hsin had been coming up this mountain for a very long time. Some problem with the Censure Courts once, an invitation to the Hold the other, usually with a Rafter Kite sent ahead so that Qingxiao couldn't pretend she wasn't home. Not that it would have mattered, of course.
Then her reasons began to… well. Thin. She had gossip, and what gossip waits to be told? She came because Qingxiao’s qin sounded better from up here, she claimed, though she spent half of every performance talking through it. She stayed an hour, usually. Then two. A third, once or twice. On a certain memorable night, it had poured so much the mountain paths had all but become impossible to traverse, and so she had stayed the night—and none of them suggested the obvious.
Not every happenstance is decided, after all. Some things just… happen. A little more each visit, the way a tree grows, a garden finally bearing fruit just earlier tonight.
“Little Qingxiao… anyone else in aaaaall of Huanglong would be asking how a fox got a Transcendent into her bed. You ask about… loneliness?”
"You have not answered."
"Mm, I haven't, have I?" Her ears tilted forward, pleased with herself. "You know, I really should have the Ministry of War record this. 'Sentinel of Mengzhou successfully lures Paragon Qingxiao down from her mountain! Details withheld.' There would be a commemorative plaque, I believe. No, I declare it!”
"The details would embarrass you," Qingxiao spoke of things that would curl your toes, sounding no more concerned than she was about a cloudy sky.
"I'd like to make a confession." Hsin stretched lazily beneath the blanket, not noticing or caring how this pushed the edge of the blanket slightly down the length of her body, just past the point of uncovering her nipples. Coming up here had been well worth her time. "When you told me—two hundred years, after all— I thought you were… having me on? Nobody sits on a mountain for two centuries, entirely untouched, never once having sex or even touching herself during all that quiet time…?”
“Tricks and clever wordplay are more of your domain than mine. I had no intention to hide it: I did lack experience in such matters.”
“So official… are you planning on giving a report to the Ministry about this, too?” Hsin’s ears tilted, delighted. "The great Paragon Qingxiao, chaste as snowfall~"
"You were quite thorough in correcting that, I believe.”
“Your own request, oh so sweetly moaned~”
A nod. "It was worth asking.”
Hsin's tail thumped the stone. "There's my Qingxiao! For a moment I thought I might have broken you!” She rolled onto her side and propped herself on one elbow, making the blanket slide down her form even more; exposing the pale, round flesh of her breasts. She reached across to touch one of the horns that drifted from Qingxiao's hair like shaped cloud—cool under her fingertips, smooth as jade, faintly luminous where the moonlight caught them. "These are so… cold. Is that why you keep them? To store the mountain's chill for summer?”
"Do not—" Qingxiao's voice caught, very slightly, and she turned her face away. There was no hiding that the tips of her ears had gone red. A loose thread of Sword Intent stirred without her willing it, and a dry leaf several paces off split neatly in two.
Hsin's eyes went round. "Oh, this is wonderful. Two hundred years of cultivation, and a fingertip undoes all of it. A few more, cleverly curled, and you—”
"They are quite sensitive." Qingxiao attempted to project what dignity she could gather, which was not a great deal.
"Noted. Cherished. Memorized." She stroked the horn once more, committing the reaction to memory, and left her hand resting there, casually, as though it had always belonged there. Qingxiao endured it without moving away.
"You are a menace to all things cultivation.”
Hsin blinked. "Am I now?"
"You are distracting. I have caught myself thinking of you during meditation. Master would be gravely disappointed."
"Oh, grave disappointment, my favorite kind." Hsin preened—and then, because she could never leave well enough alone, hooked a hand beneath the blanket and lifted her breasts slightly, teats pointed right at Qingxiao, as though a merchant presenting new stock. "The ears and tail, I understand. Divine craftsmanship, very impressive. But these? Mortal work, I'm afraid. Common stock. Nothing a Transcendent should concern herself with."
Qingxiao's face went red. She fixed the moon with a look of tremendous concentration. "Put those away.”
"They don't seem to bother you much."
“They aren’t a bother—you are. I find myself having trouble looking away from you.”
Hsin's ears shot straight up, tips twitching violently. "You—what?"
"You said directness suits me."
"I—" Hsin let go of her chest as she opened her mouth, closed it, and flopped onto her back to stare up at the sky—a fox finding herself outfoxed. "I meant for official matters! Not, whatever this is!" Hsin squeaked, face detonating into a brilliant, furious red. She scrambled for her usual composure, but her tongue stumbled over itself. "You can't just—that was completely uncalled for!
“I sought only to note what I observe, such as it is.” Qingxiao noted mildly, watching with quiet satisfaction as Hsin’s tail whipped back and forth in absolute chaos against the grass. "Perhaps it is true; Hsin the Moon Fox, whose every grin is a riddle, has long since become a master of falsehood. Is self-deception within your blood, or is this the only way a creature of night can survive the harsh day?”
"Stop looking at me like that!" Hsin snapped, snatching the edge of the blanket and yanking it all the way up over her head, burying herself entirely in a white fabric cocoon. Her muffled, frantic voice echoed from inside. "I will not be undermined by a compliment from a simple… a… mountain hermit! The audacity…”
The blanket remained motionless for a long three seconds.
Then, slowly, two large, white fox ears poked out from the top edge, swiveling back and forth like radar dishes searching for threats. Finding none, Hsin’s eyes appeared just above the hem, narrowed in intense suspicion.
Qingxiao hadn't moved an inch. She simply sat there, haloed by the night sky, looking as unbothered as a stone statue—save for the faint, impossible-to-miss curve at the corner of her lips.
"You're enjoying this too much. Flirting with a straight face like that? Disgusting. This has to be an abuse of power.”
"It was merely an observation," Qingxiao repeated softly.
"For your sake, I’m choosing to ignore this happened," Hsin declared. She pulled the blanket down just enough to expose her mouth, though her cheeks were still burning a shameful, dusty rose. Clearing her throat, she smoothed down her hair with both hands, desperately reaching for the nearest available distraction to save her dying dignity. "Speaking of the mountain, did I tell you what happened the other day? No? There was an artisan at the sanctum you see, a very serious man, who insisted the Rafter Kites were assembling into rude shapes at night —”
"Hsin."
"—and he had come with drawings, Qingxiao, pages of them, and I had to look at every single one with a straight face, which I have to say—"
"Hsin."
"Mm?"
"You did not answer.” Qingxiao's gaze had drifted somewhere past the moon again, that distant, spacey drift people mistook for coldness. It had never been coldness. Her attention simply lived in deeper water than most, and took longer to surface.
The tail slowed. "I was telling you about the other day.”
"That wasn’t what I asked.”
"You ask very difficult things." Hsin folded her arms behind her head. Her ears lay flatter now, though the rest of her kept up its careless posture. "Ask something easier. Ask how the Hold is. Ask whether the Censure Courts are behaving. I'll tell you anything. I know you’ve been leaving sometimes, but you really should visit more, still. Help a few people. Earn a few free meals ~?”
"I’m told when the Hold needs me. That is sufficient."
"Hm." Hsin looked toward Qingxiao, tracing idle patterns along the curve of the horn, thinking—a tolerated gesture. "The Waking Moon Festival is in a few months, you know. Come down for it this year. We can have a proper… date? Is that what mortals call it?”
"The Hold is indeed pleasant that time of year."
"That wasn't an answer."
Qingxiao nodded. "Mm. Now you know how it feels."
Hsin narrowed her eyes. Her ears flicked, caught between indignation and unwilling admiration. "Rude! That’s my thing, miss Paragon. I've spent centuries—you know what, no. Fine." She looked up at the sky again. "Fine, we're both insufferable. The mountain has two of us now. Somewhere there's a certain jade bird taking notes."
"Hsin."
"Mm?"
"You still have not answered."
“I’ve been quite generous tonight already, haven’t I?”
“You know what I mean.”
Hsin ears tipped forward, then back, then forward again—a fox checking the wind and finding weather coming from every direction at once. Somewhere down the mountain, a night bird called and nothing answered it.
Qingxiao, for once in her long life, did not wait. "I’ll keep asking until you answer, or until the sun rises. Whichever comes first."
"That's… blackmail."
"Mm."
"A Transcendent and a criminal? What does this say about my tastes?"
"Mm."
Hsin huffed, but the laugh behind it came out thinner than the others. Silence reigned for a while. Her tail curled over Qingxiao's ankles and stayed there. “You really want to know?
Qingxiao said nothing. Saying nothing is sometimes the question, and the art is in that decision.
"A fox is meant to wander the wilderness." Hsin's voice had taken on the lilt she used for stories, for tales, for anything she wanted to make sound lighter than it was. "Lonely is such a… mortal word. The ancients once had longer words for it, you know. Better views. Nobody to say them to." She spread her free hand, elegant. "There. Dignified, isn't it?"
Her ears dipped as she said it. Only a degree. She didn't seem to notice.
Qingxiao nodded, content. "Mm.”
"Don't mm me. You’re too smart for your own good sometimes.”
Qingxiao lifted a hand, slowly, settling it over Hsin's where it rested on the blanket. “You have always looked deep in thought when I play. You think you hide it better than you actually do.”
Hsin’s tail stilled, indignated. "I hide it perfectly."
"Mm."
Hsin looked away from her companion. For once, she had no story to give.
Qingxiao squeezed her hand slightly. "Comfort is not a skill taught in cultivation. So I have been reminded, often.” A pause, light coming back to her eyes from wherever it had been. "Yet this mountain is quiet in a way that heals. If the Hold ever feels quiet in a way that hurts—come up. I will play for you, whenever you like. You need not listen closely. It is enough that you are present.” She lifted the blanket between them. "My worldly possessions are sparse, devoid of luxury, but they are large enough for two. Evidently."
Hsin’s ears stood upright again, swiveled toward Qingxiao, eyes too bright by a degree she would later blame on the wind. "...Is the great Paragon Qingxiao inviting me into her bed a second time? Bold."
"Boldness is also cultivation."
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say."
Her tail, treacherous thing, had already wound its way around Qingxiao's waist and pulled her closer. Hsin pressed her face into Qingxiao's shoulder, muffling her voice against the skin.
"Fine. Perhaps a little. Once in a while." A breath. "If you tell anyone in the Ministry, I'll deny everything and stuff you into an Autopuppet."
"I keep many things I was told to cut away," Qingxiao’s thumb moved once, slowly, over Hsin's knuckles. "One more will not burden me.”
Hsin let out a long, theatrical gasp against Qingxiao’s shoulder—hiding the red on her cheeks.
"Cut away? My dear Paragon, I’m positively wounded! Do not compare me to a surplus branch to be pruned—unless, of course, you intend to trim me down with your teeth…” Hsin sat up with a sudden burst of energy, letting the blanket tumble down to her hips. The cool night air hit her bare skin, but she paid it no mind, tossing her hair over her shoulders with a flourish. "I’m luxury incarnate. Divine indulgence! Perhaps the heavens themselves have deemed your years of cultivation to be penance enough, and have sent me as your reward ~?”
The fox leaned closer, eyes gleaming with mischief. Was she… purring? No, not quite, but it was similar enough. The thought amused Qingxiao, quietly—her Sentinel and felines did have a remarkable number of similarities…
"If you mean to discuss possessions though, surely… we could look into yours? For one who sought to give up mortal desires, your hands are still so soft… in time, perhaps they’ll be half as skilled as mine, mh~? Quite a loophole in your doctrine, my Paragon.”
The barest shadow of a blush lingered near Qingxiao’s temples. "Cultivation has had certain positive effects on my body, perhaps. Their use lies in their skill with the qin.”
"How noble you sound," Hsin drawled, resting her hands on Qingxiao’s chest. Her heartbeat was calm, steady—but not completely. A small win for her. “Doesn’t quite explain why those 'skilled digits' spent so long tracing every notch of my spine... were you trying to tune a stray string, or were you hunting for the right spot to make me scream your name? Because between you and me, little Qingxiao, I make a devastatingly responsive instrument~”
“You didn’t complain at the time. Surely my performance was at least satisfactory.”
Hsin covered her mouth with a hand—a tiny surprise, a tiny defeat—before a wicked smirk whispered its way into her lips yet again. “Perhaps I was simply… conducting an audit? Inspecting my people? My duty to Mengzhou does extend to ensuring my chosen Paragon meets… the standards expected of her, after all.’
She leaned in until their noses almost touched, breath warm against Qingxiao’s lips. The human between them inhaled—as if unconsciously desiring more of her. "And while your theory is impeccable, my sweet Paragon, your rhythm could use a bit more... spontaneity. You're far too gentle with the tempo. How about a second round? I promise to let you practice until your fingers ache~”
Qingxiao nodded, eyes reflecting the moonlight. "I still consider myself an apt pupil, if not in the Way my master pursues. I must remind you, however, that the last time left you breathless enough, and I have no issue leaving you breathless again should the need arise.”
Hsin opened her mouth to scoff, offended to her very core—yet she had not enough time to act, for Qingxiao’s hand (elegant, cool, as soft as ever) reached up behind her and gently cupped the back of her neck, ears twitching and toes curling into Qingxiao’s thumb as she massaged white fur.
She froze, suddenly. Her tail gave a swift, betraying thud against the grass.
"You speak a great deal when you are flustered," Qingxiao observed mildly, fingers still stroking the soft fur at the base of Hsin's ear.
“A strategy that works better if you don’t analyze it to death. That's very rude of you, actually, no, worse than rude. It's—"
"Honest?"
Hsin made a sound like a kettle on the verge of boiling. "I liked you better when you were emotionally unavailable.”
"No, no you did not. If you wish to test this affirmation, you could consider joining my next meditation session. I have found that the process of achieving peace of mind improves much with proper companionship. Worldly intrusion pales to your impression upon my own thoughts. It improves concentration, as a by-product.”
"Meditation? With you?" Hsin let out a breathy, melodious chuckle, tail sweeping a lazy arc across Qingxiao’s hip. "Oh, my sweet Paragon... if you expect me to sit still in silence while you pretend to contemplate the soul… I’m afraid I’d spend my time admiring your neck instead.”
Qingxiao didn't blink. "It would build your discipline.”
"It would build something, certainly," Hsin purred, sliding her leg higher over Qingxiao’s waist, hand creeping under the blanket to rest over her smooth stomach. She ought to convince Qingxiao to skip fasting sometimes—it would do her good to get some meat on those bones. "And this 'worldly intrusion' you speak of... are you telling me that after two centuries of absolute mental clarity, the great Paragon Qingxiao absolutely requires my scandalous presence just to keep her mind focused?"
“I’m only clarifying that the mind wanders less when it already has what it seeks," Qingxiao said simply, hand coming down to rest over Hsin’s, pinning her fingers gently against her skin. "And you are... exceptionally difficult to ignore.”
A purr attempted to escape Hsin’s throat, yet she swallowed the instinct as quick as it had appeared. Her eyes watched her lover, drinking up as much of her as she could see exposed to the air or framed under their thin blanket. “The way you talk to me has to be immoral somehow. Hear my words, I’ll find someone to complain about this abuse of authority—”
“I’m open to any and all visitors. They need only climb the mountain.”
Qingxiao closed the final inch between them.
It wasn’t their first, or second, and least of all hundredth, yet Hsin hummed against her Paragon’s lips nonetheless, fingers tangling tightly into her hair. Her tail seemed to press behind Qingxiao, urging her to stay close.
When Qingxiao finally pulled back, just an inch, breaths still intertwined, Hsin was staring at her, wide-eyed, cheeks flushed a brilliant pink.
"Was that ‘rhythm’... acceptable?" Qingxiao asked softly, a rare smile in her features.
Hsin buried her face back into Qingxiao’s neck with a muffled groan, her own chest squished up underneath Qingxiao’s. "You are evil. A demon disguised as a saint. If I wasn’t so tired right now I’d leave you alone here, you understand? That clever little merchant was right, women really are just as mean as men in affairs of the heart.”
“I’m sure she’d tell you to at least stay the night, considering current company.” Qingxiao wrapped her arms around Hsin, pulling the blanket back over their shoulders. It hadn’t suddenly become less thin in the past half an hour, but closeness made up for it. "Now, sleep. Or I shall be forced to kiss you for silence again."
Hsin snuggled deeper into Qingxiao's chest, partially pressing her face into her soft bosom, partially curling her tail contentedly around their legs. "Threatening me with a good time... how un-cultivator-like of you. Oh, Qingxiao... you really must teach me which part of cultivation covers that kind of discipline~”
"Mm."
"Don't 'mm' me. I get the last word."
"Mm."
Hsin sighed, laughing one last time for herself. Eyes closed, tail tucked between them—the sound of crickets and the beat of a Transcendent heart carrying her to something very much like sleep.
"Qingxiao?" she murmured, half-asleep already.
"Mm?"
"...Never mind. I'll tell you later."
"Mm."
Hsin smiled against her shoulder.