deercountry | Winter Be Gentle And Kind [Open]

"We live in a city, do we not?" Shen Yuan's tone is knowing and mischievous; so what if he bent the truth a little to get here? It's working so far, isn't it? "I'm serving its people by doing research and posting general warnings about the potential dangers they might encounter, am I not? So that makes me a civil servant."

He hastily muffles a peal of laughter in his sleeve. "But it's true I never earned an official title, in that regard. As for the other thing, it's true that Xiu Ya is a spiritual weapon, but I imagine that if the sect that made her ever learned the full and complete truth about how she came into my possession, they'd probably try to exorcise me."

His smile turns wistful as he explains, "What I really am is a career transmigrator. I was born, grew up, and died in one world; woke up in another, in the body of a master cultivator, and assumed his identity for several years in order to survive; and then one day I woke up here, and started my life over again. But I actually did attend university in my first life," he notes, glancing back down at the line to check its movement. "We didn't really do the jinshi anymore, in that world, but for how well I did on the gaokao I like to think I'd have passed." He always did really well in school; it was finding a vocation afterwards that tripped him up.

The realization that civil servant was a joke strikes He Xuan very effectively. He doesn't laugh out loud but he's definitely a little piqued, eyes sparkling as he listens to the rest of this ludicrous explanation.

The mention of exorcism has his jaw shift, the anxiety he's taking on sparking with a little of his own — he's weaker here and there is an endless parade of cultivators, he's not used to having to be careful but he tries. Discussion of exams, however, raise his hackles completely.

"I never passed my jinshi," he admits coolly, though he knows the truth is that path was kept from him. Sometimes during the long tenure as a Heavenly spy he wondered if he could have wound up ascending to be a civil god without Shi interference. Or perhaps he could simply have outperformed Shi Wudu to become Water Master. God of all the little fishing boats. He would have liked that.

His reverie is interrupted by a sudden tug on the line that he only notices out of long practice, and rather than chase down more of this interesting story of transmigration, He Xuan instead says urgently and quietly: "Shen-xiandi, the fish are biting. Are you ready to reel one in?"

The look of good humor on Shen Yuan's face is replaced by a concerned frown as He Xuan mentions his own issues with the exams, and while it's true that he doesn't know this man very well something about his manner hints at a frustration deeper than the difficulty of the exams. "Most people didn't, in my world --" he starts to explaining, intending to be comforting, but then! The pole suddenly jerks in his hands, and He Xuan hastily explains --

"Ah, yes!" Shen Yuan says quickly, the title registering but his emotional reaction quickly suppressed. This is no time to preen! "Tell me what to do, quickly!"

It's only natural, when you're teaching someone, to want them to do well, right? To invest in how they're performing, and what you can do to improve that performance. That's all the suffix is, just a way of communicating encouragement without having to actually say those words himself. Right?

What he does say is: "Turn the handle — yes, just like that. Gently, at first, you want to encourage it to take a bigger bite, and catch itself on the hook. When you feel its struggle you can reel it in quickly. Yes, now!" And with any luck, Shen Yuan will be able to bring up his first fish, a little shining thing flopping helplessly in the constricting air.

Like the memes say: Sure, Xuan.

"Oh wow," Shen Yuan whispers, his whole face lighting up excitement as he reels the fish up out of the water. It's not much to look at, objectively; a little thing in truth, but he hardly cares about that. What matters is that he caught it! All on his own, but for He Xuan's guidance! He quickly reels it in the rest of the way and reaches out to grab the line, awkwardly pulling it in close. "What now?" he asks, excited. "How do I get it off the hook?"

He Xuan's hand snaps out and catches the fish in his own hand, where it wiggles. The nail on his other hand grows longer, sharper, as he quickly and precisely spikes the fish brain so that it dies and goes still. Then he works on pulling the hook from the mouth.

"They taste better if you kill them quickly," he says, lest Shen Yuan dare to think him humane. He tosses the fish in the cooler bucket beside him, to be gutted later. His fingers are back to normal, barely even bloodied by that bare-handed kill.

"Well done, xiandi," he says. "You're very accomplished for your first time. You'll have to get your own fishing pole."

It happens so quickly that Shen Yuan nearly misses it -- the sudden change in He Xuan's fingernail, the swift movement of his hand, the fish suddenly stilling its flopping. Shen Yuan blinks, and He Xuan's finger looks the same as before, as though it never changed it all.

Jin Guangyao told him to be cautious of this person, he suddenly recalled. He said he wasn't sure what He Xuan might be capable of.

But Shen Yuan has a theory, now, and it makes him smile again, his interest renewed.

"I owe it all to my excellent teacher," he demurs, and offers He Xuan the fishing pole. "Would you like this back now, shifu? Or shall we see if I can do it again?"

"If you can do it a second time," He Xuan says gruffly, "This inadequate teacher would be delighted."

So he's willing to let Shen Yuan keep a hold of the pole, only loading up the hook with another piece of bait so this cultivator doesn't have to get his hands dirty with whatever bugs He Xuan has collected. This time he doesn't instruct so closely, just watching to see if there are any adjustments he needs to make or advice to give. But once the line is cast he is actually the first to resume their previous conversation.

"Tell me more about transmigration," he says. "It sounds as strange as coming here." To this city so different to life he'd known. If he was thrown into the body of someone from Jinx's world with their guns and tattoos and bright hair he isn't sure what he'd do.

This time Shen Yuan isn't able to hold back a small, preening wiggle of a delight, like a peacock fluffing it's tail. But he still manages to make the cast properly, with a silent thank-you to Duty for giving him the push he needed to keep practing his swordplay. If not for that he'd surely have embarrassed himself by now.

"It was a popular subject for fiction in my world," he's happy to explain. "Somebody dies suddenly, usually before their time, and wakes up in a different world. A lot of things were considered fictional in that world that are simply facts of life in others. Magic, cultivation, ghosts...all the stuff of stories or legends, but nothing you'd encounter in every day life." He smiles a little painfully. "It meant I had some idea of what to expect, when I woke up in somebody else's body with a voice in my head telling me what to do under threat of death. Waking up here was much more pleasant by comparison."

"Ah, I see." Having come from a world that did have ghosts and gods, not to mention his experience arriving here, this seems like a strange but acceptable explanation.

He looks over Shen Yuan, realizes what he's doing, and looks away again back out at the water. It's not that he cares about the aesthetics of Shen Yuan's pretty form, he's simply wondering: "Did Shen Yuan keep the other's body? When you arrived in Trench?"

It's surprising how quickly He Xuan accepts his explanation, but not unpleasantly so. Perhaps Shen Yuan himself is also getting better at explaining it.

"Partially," he admits, watching the line now for any sign of movement and missing entirely He Xuan's indecision about where to rest his gaze. "This body is sort of a mixture of traits, half my original body and half the master cultivator's. I suppose I should be grateful; my original body was somewhat shorter, which would have made retaining daozhang's swordmanship skills rather difficult. Xiu Ya belonged to him as well, and ever since she and I learned how to talk to each other, she's been invaluable in helping me stay alive."

"What about you?" he asks, sneaking a glance of his own at He Xuan. "Did shifu look like this before he came here?"

Xuan laughs softly at that question, a slightly ominous sound that carries across the water to scare the fish. "I'm able to take many forms," he tells Shen Yuan directly (maybe trusting him a little more now that it's established he isn't actually a Night-Hunting Cultivator.) "But this one is the one I mostly use." Heavy brows, a little sharp around the eartips, a cold pallor to the skin that even the sun can't kiss away, his eyes a demon gold. He Xuan's original face, with a little of the ornamentation that has come naturally to being a dead thing in the deep waters. "Though I got into the habit of using a female form just as much." And he still does sometimes, with no excuse beyond sometimes he's just feeling it. He thinks perhaps he ought to keep that to himself.

And there it is: a delicate little blush coloring Shen Yuan's cheeks, making him duck his head as if to hide it behind his hair. His fingers itch for his fan, but...he's been doing a little growing as a person lately, and so after a moment he glances at He Xuan sidelong, with a shy little smile on his face as he says quietly, "It's not a bad form. Not even half bad!"

Agh, so bold! What is he even talking about? He clears his throat and quickly adds, "You're actually the second friend I've made here who likes to be a woman now and then. Interesting, right?"

Likes is such a strong word. He Xuan's expression darkens a little, not comfortable talking about his proclivities, whether for gender shenanigans or each other's not-half-bad forms. Even at his old age and with a demonic carelessness towards polite society there are some completely normal queer things he's still convinced are too perverted even for a ghost king.

Also, that cute little expression is doing uncomfortable things to him. The urge to just shove Shen Yuan off the dock and be done with this is very high right now, and he even puts a considering hand on Shen Yuan's shoulder as if measuring how much strength he'd need.

"Let's not talk about that," he says amiably, wondering if Shen Yuan can swim. His robes would probably be an impediment. And there'd be no more fishing, not with that kind of splashy disruption.

His heart beating rabbit-fast, Shen Yuan completely misses the frown on He Xuan's face in favor of over-analyzing the hand on his shoulder. Touching him, squeezing slightly, this has to mean his flirting was reciprocated, right?

...Oh god, what if this means his flirting was reciprocated?? He's not ready! Nothing in his life up to this moment has prepared him for this possibility!

And so he freezes up like a little bunny in the bushes, eyes on the fishing line so he doesn't have to make eye contact with He Xuan. "All right," he says quietly, in the same 'nope, nothing wrong here!' tone he'd once used so effectively with Liu Qingge. "What would He Xuan like to talk about, then?"

Why does this feel so much like the Speed Dating catastrophe? He isn't even getting shocked! But his skin is prickling, and his usual tendency to say mean things has just vanished, and his fucking hand is still on this guy's arm.

He takes it back as naturally as he can and folds it in his lap. Shen Yuan will stay dry a little longer yet.

His usual topic (fishing) is well and truly worn out. Talking about their worlds seems like it will lead to having to reveal his demonic status, which he is oddly reluctant to do, something he continues to put down to a natural and understandable wariness of cultivators even though he's a hundred percent sure now that Shen Yuan wouldn't try to exorcise him. Current events? Shen Yuan clearly had an admirable grasp on what went on in Trench, to a degree that even He Xuan's careful and paranoid reading of any information provided to him upon arrival couldn't match.

"We could simply sit silently," he points out in a grumpy murmur. Truly, he doesn't mind spending time with others if they know how to be quiet. Or know how to fill the silence on their own. Or can engage him in interesting topics. Actually, he's pretty social, he's met a lot of people in Trench—

Aha! "Have you met some of the other cultivators?" he asks, since playing six degrees of separation with other Heavenly Officials was always a great way to get information with very little contribution on his part needed, and it was something he had done a lot as Ming Yi.

Oh no, He Xuan was taking his hand away! Had Shen Yuan ruined everything? Should he have tried to hold it? Augh, why had he froze up like that?? So stupid, what did he even have to be nervous about, he'd fended off Luo Binghe in full horn-dog mode before, hadn't he??

"Mm," he hums agreeably. Sure, they can sit in silence, that'll give Shen Yuan plenty of time to mentally castigate himself -- oooor they can talk about the other cultivators, okay. Fine! That's fine, Shen Yuan definitely has no feelings about that whatsoever.

~~Shen Yuan is a lying liar who lies, most of all to himself.~~

"Of course," he says easily (and no, it does not occur to him that if his theory is correct about He Xuan's nature, he might have ulterior motives in asking about the other cultivators in Trench). "I'm on good terms with Wei-gongzi, Nie-gongzi, and Lan-gongzi, and I consider Jin Guangyao one of my closest friends. Why, have you met any of them yet?"

And now He Xuan knows exactly how many cultivators live in city. Good job, Shen Yuan.

Really he's just lucky that He Xuan isn't actually going to hunt them all down one by one. Anyway, it seems he's only missed getting acquainted with one, though whether that was the Lan or the Nie on the network he isn't sure, will have to scour the original posting for clues later.

"Jin Guangyao-xianshen is a helpful fellow," he agrees, lips quirking with nostalgic amusement at the memory of the little man's nervous courtesy in the face of He Xuan's unpleasant predicament. "Wei Wuxian... mm, I can imagine you liking him. Haven't you both been here a while?" For his part, he isn't sure how he feels about anyone who carries a flute that can manipulate the dead, no matter what promises he makes or how friendly he is. If Wei Wuxian disappeared tomorrow, He Xuan would mostly just be relieved. "Though he doesn't seem to perform such well-written community services." Referring to Shen Yuan's monthly PSA, of course.

Jin Guanyao is very helpful, and it surprises Shen Yuan not at all that He Xuan should already think so. He's exactly the sort of person who puts himself out for a stranger, to a degree that Shen Yuan finds frankly remarkable, not to mention admirable.

"I'm sure Jin-shige would be glad to hear He Xuan thinks so. As for Wei-gongzi..." He hums thoughtfully for a moment, considering how to phrase his answer. "We only spoke the once, so I'm not sure I can truthfully say I like him, but he did me a good turn back then that I hope someday I'll be able to repay. And he did mention that he'd left his own world about three years ago, yes, counting the time he spent in the dream that preceeded this world." He smiles slightly. "There's a small number of Sleepers who immigrated here from a place called Deerington, although how that world passed into this one I've not yet been able to discover for certain. As for myself, I've only lived in Trench for a mere eight months."

He nods in modest acknowledgement of the point about his recent network post. "The research I do for the forecasts is as much for my own benefit as anyone else's," he admits. "I hope to eventually put together a sort of easily-referenced database, so everyone will be able to keep themselves well-informed on how the city changes from month to month."

He Xuan is following along attentively, very happy to just listen to Shen Yuan and nod and say "Mm," when there's a pause. Usually he has a gaze like a knife but it's blunted right now, tracing the curve of Shen Yuan's jaw and the movement of his soft lips as he speaks. Not distracted by them — he can look and listen at once — but fixated all the same.

But then Shen Yuan says something that elicits a blink. "Data... base," he says, echoing the Chinese word with the same tones but not entirely sure what he's saying. This is the man who didn't know he was broadcasting video through his omni, after all. "Instructional materials? Like the ones in the book." Since he'd arrived with a thoroughly explanatory journal, and has only added to it as he learned more about the world.

One doesn't spy for hundreds of years with a dozen puppet bodies unless one is a particular kind of note-taker, or has Jin Guangyao's steel trap of a memory. He Xuan cannot boast the latter but he is inclined to the former, a kinship that had him taking an interest in Shen Yuan in the first place.

"Shen-xiandi is studious," he murmurs, glancing away to see if the fish are biting yet (no, the fish are tactfully seeking a meal elsewhere.)

Edited ("an meal") 2023-03-07 09:03 (UTC)

"Oh, right. Linguistic drift." It's pretty clear by now that He Xuan is from either a cultivator setting, or cultivation-adjacent. Wuxia, at the very least. Of course he won't recognize all of Shen Yuan's Western-influenced words.

"I want to make something a little bit like the journals," he tries to explain, "but hosted on the network, not physical media. That way it will be publically accessible, easily updated, and we can provide newcomers with a standardized introduction to Trench. I suspect there's more variation than there really should be in the information provided in the journals," he notes in a verbal aside. "I had to explain to someone on the network the other day what the differences are between patrons and other pthumerians, and which present the greatest danger to Sleepers. That's just not acceptable." At least, not if you're the kind of person who cares whether people get hurt because they didn't know any better, which Shen Yuan clearly is.

He smiles shyly at the compliment. "I do my best," he says modestly. (It must be noted that while he's not so neglectful as to loosen his grip on the pole or let it dip into the water, neither is he really paying as much attention to it as he probably should if he really wants to catch anything. Apologies to the fish, but his conversation with He Xuan is much more interesting, even if he does keep embarrassing himself by being such a dateless virgin. Why couldn't he have gotten this phase in his personal development over in high school, when everyone was weird and embarrassing...?)

"In the world where I was born," he quietly explains, turning to make eye contact with He Xuan much more comfortably now, now that they aren't talking about anyone's feelings, "people figured out very quickly that networks like the one we have here in Trench can be very useful for helping people assimilate large amounts of information very quickly, because of the way the immaterial media removes several of the constraints on physical forms of data -- sorry, information storage. If you're trying to become an expert on a topic using a library, every time an author references a related work you'll have to track it down -- assuming the library even has a copy -- and read it too, in order to understand the point they're trying to make. It completely interrupts the flow of information-intake. But on a network, you can build in guides to related texts right there on the page; it's called linking, and if a reader's device allows them to keep multiple pages open simultaneously they can quickly refer back and forth between multiple references, and internalize multiple perspectives on the topic they're trying to master. Of course there are drawbacks," he has to admit. "The publically accessible nature of the network means there's a greater than normal risk of vandalism, or people just putting up any piece of nonsense they want and passing it off as verified fact, but a dedicated team of editors can usually catch those before they do any lasting harm. And we could also set up a system to notify people when new, high priority information is added to the network, such as in the event of an emergency...there are all sorts of possibilities..."

So it turns out Shen Yuan can really talk.

He Xuan, of course, is the perfect rubber duck — he listens to all of this, and is quiet even a little longer after that as he considers all of this new information — nodding, just a little. For someone not familiar with the concept of wikis or even au fait with the internet, he feels like he's following along well enough. Shen Yuan has broken the process down into its component parts.

"A communal pool of information," he says, "With scholars in charge of making sure there is no graffiti or improper texts." Not quite a library, which was in his mind highly restrictive in the authors of its texts, but something where anyone who had an experience or discovered something could contribute. "Accessible to all Sleepers. Though if the Pthumerians are responsible for the Omni and the journals, wouldn't they want to contribute?"

How do you roll back the edits on a god, is his line of thought — but then, he is particularly concerned with the Pthumerians, fascinated by them. Well, perhaps Shen Yuan could ask someone like Michael to do it, he hadn't seemed particularly worshipful of the gods of the new world.

About his special interest? Hell fucking yeah Shen Yuan can talk! He'll talk your ear off if you let him.

And for his own part Shen Yuan's pleased as punch by how well He Xuan's following his explanation! Like honestly, to hell with the jinshi: this is the real mark of intelligence, how quickly he's taking in completely new concepts and adding them to his existing knowledge! Case in point: his question catches Shen Yuan by surprise, and causes him to lapse into thoughtful silence for nearly a minute before he admits, "I'm not sure. They haven't interfered with the network or participated in any Sleeper-generated conversations in the time I've been here...but of course we can't assume that will always be the case. If one of them took offense to something somebody wrote, that could be a serious problem...hm."

"Okay, we might have to table that for now until I can do some research on it, but thank you for asking that," he finally says, smiling at He Xuan once more. "It's a good question, I'm almost annoyed I didn't think of it myself."

"This useless old man is glad to have something to contribute," He Xuan says, though as ever his self-deprecation is not so much humble politeness as his weird sense of humour. He has one hand on the dock, leaning there, his original strict posture having relaxed the more Shen Yuan spoke.

"There's no way to even know for certain that all the Sleepers are really Sleepers," he points out. "If I were a Pthumerian who wanted to cause trouble I would 'wash up on the shore'." And then spend too long pretending and end up entangled in feelings.

"Is that what you would do if you were one of them?" Shen Yuan can't resist teasing him, as unknowingly insightful as ever.

"But so long as they restricted themselves to the powers and presence of a Sleeper, the most expedient way to handle them would be to treat them as a Sleeper," he murmurs, thinking out loud. His own body language is entirely relaxed, focus turned inward as he thinks these issues over. If a fish picked now to bite, there's a small chance it would yank the fishing rod right out of Shen Yuan's hands before he realized what was happening. "The real danger from such a person would be if they could use their powers to cause trouble without being caught...then again, any of the more powerful Sleepers could potentially do the same thing, and we can hardly bar people from participating in the project just because they're too powerful...Even if some of them are terribly annoying," he finishes with a small grimace, and coming back to himself immediately checks the line to make sure it hasn't vanished while he wasn't looking. Which it has not. Good.

"It's been a while without anything biting," he notes out loud. "Is that typical?"

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CW: fish death

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