”It’s a demon!”
”She’s not a demon, Jingyi,” Sizhui says with an exasperated sigh. The effect is somewhat diminished by the demon braying so loud that Jingyi is having a hard time hearing his own thoughts, let alone Sizhui’s comment.
”Well, how do you explain this, then?” Jingyi yelled, yanking at the reins.
The demon also known as Little Apple for some inane, stupid, unfathomable reason, refuses to budge, standing fast with its neck stretching longer than should be possible and its mouth open with the continuous unholy sound coming out.
Sizhui sighs. (Again.)
”Shut up,” Jingyi grumbles without looking at him, unreasonably glad that Sizhui can’t claim he’s talking to Sizhui instead of the demon. Not that he would. Because Sizhui is a good friend like that.
Jingyi has the greatest arm strength of their generation and he still can’t make that ungrateful demon move. So he really can’t be blamed for the sound of absolute and utter betrayal when Sizhui steps close, takes the reins, and clicks his tongue—and the demon huffs and starts to walk.
”What,” Jingyi says.
”Hm?” Sizhui asks.
”No. Really. What,” Jingyi repeats. ”How. Why.”
Sizhui gives the impression of rolling his eyes without rolling his eyes. ”Full sentences, Jingyi, please.”
He throws his arms in the air. ”Why is it walking now? Why didn’t it walk before? Are you a donkey whisperer?”
”That’s not a thing,” Sizhui says. His cheeks are rosy which usually means that he’s either embarrassed or pleased. Jingyi can’t honestly say which he would prefer this time because being embarrassed about getting an annoying demon donkey to move would be just stupid but also being a donkey whisperer is nothing to be pleased about.
He huffs and grumbles and narrows his eyes at the animal who is now walking placidly next to Sizhui, looking like a perfectly normal, perfectly well-behaved donkey. Jingyi doesn’t trust it, not even one bit.
”So, who was that guy, anyway?” he asks after a moment, keeping his voice low so that the other juniors won’t hear him. ”He seemed crazy but also not? And…” he steps closer to Sizhui. ”Hanguang-jun seemed to know him.”
Sizhui takes a hurried glance back to make sure no one else is listening. ”Mn,” he says, sounding troubled. ”His behavior was peculiar,” he admits. ”And the song…” He shakes his head.
”What song—you mean the terrible noise he was making with the bamboo dizi?”
Sizhui nods. ”I’m sure I’ve heard it somewhere.”
Jingyi frowns. ”Like where? I have no ear for music and even I could tell that it was terrible.” He doesn’t say that Hanguang-jun knowing someone who is that appallingly inept at playing sounds too outlandish to be true.
Sizhui shakes his head. ”No…it’s.” There’s a look on his face, the kind he sometimes gets when he’s trying to remember something from his childhood before he came to the Cloud Recesses. Those moments usually end with a sad Sizhui which means Jingyi has to do some damage control immediately.
”Never mind the music, what are we going to do with the demon?” he asks, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. ”Like, pets are forbidden but beasts of burden are allowed because they’re of use but what do the rules say about beasts? Because that’s what it is. A beast.” He makes the mistake of looking back and faces the demon grinning at him with a full set of big, yellow teeth. He shudders.
”She is Senior Mo’s donkey,” Sizhui reminds him. ”And Hanguang-jun trusted us with her safety.”
”Yes, but what about our safety?” Jingyi asks. It’s a reasonable question.
Sizhui raises a brow. ”Are you afraid of a donkey, Jingyi?” he asks, amused.
”No,” he huffs. ”I’m expressing perfectly reasonable doubts on behalf of us all,” he says walking backward in front of Sizhui. ”Being afraid is completely different from being cautious, which, if I may point out, is—” His sentence cuts off when his foot slips and he falls into a ditch with a yelp.
”What were you talking about caution, Jingyi?” Sizhui asks with a completely innocent face.
Jingyi ignores him and swears, scrambling up before the rest of the juniors have the chance to laugh at him, and tries to wrangle a handful of thistles out of his hair without completely ruining all the hard work he did in the morning with his guan and forehead ribbon.
When he looks up, he’s absolutely sure the demon is laughing at him.