Zhou Cheng wakes to the scent of something savoury and salty, which is a pleasant enough surprise. What is not pleasant, and if he's honest, not really a surprise, is the ache that permeates his body. He has pushed himself before in the past, and relished in the feeling of soreness afterwards, in the knowledge he was surely growing in strength and power.
This is not that ache.
He doesn't really have words to describe what this ache is - but if he were to try, he feels sort of like… well, the only thing that really comes to mind is some kind of barrel. A barrel that had been filled to the bursting point and then some, that had stretched and warped with the pressure of it all and was now drained and empty - no longer at risk of exploding, but still left… stretched.
I wonder if this is how noodles feel… slips into his mind without any real control, which is enough to distract him from the pain and instead spend the next few moments wondering where that thought even came from. Ultimately, he blames it on the hunger.
He doesn't know how long he has been unconscious, but he knows that if he's not allowed to have a bowl of whatever is cooking, he will… not hurt anyone, just be very upset.
As if to answer his unspoken demand, a bowl is thrust in front of him and the smell makes his mouth water. Thick noodles swim in a creamy broth with chunks of what look like white meat. It takes him far too much effort to not just tip the entire thing down his throat like some sort of soup devouring snake, instead forcing his gaze to face the veritable angel who has blessed him this day.
Kong Meiling meets his gaze with her usual level of calm fortitude.
The urge to take everything back he just thought was strong, but he doesn't want to be the kind of person who takes back what they say. Even if he only said them in his mind. That counts, as far as he's concerned. So, with gritted teeth, he tries to school his expression into one of firm politeness. "Thank you for the food," he says, and he even means it. Food is important. Food has always been important to him.
Going hungry isn't a pain he'd wish on anyone. Not even that bastard, Lei Ming.
He expects her to hold her head high, to dismiss him, but she simply nods. "You are welcome," she replies from her position, kneeling at the side of his bedroll.
Rather than focus on what she's doing here - or her in general - he turns his attention to the food, taking up his pair of chopsticks with only a slight tremor and starting to eat. The noodles are a bit too chewy, but the soup(?) is good enough to make up for that, he thinks. It's a bit too salty, and whatever they've cooked with it has an odd, slimy texture that he can't decide if he likes or not, but it's full of warmth and - perhaps most importantly - Qi.
"This… is this the Sand Devil?" he murmurs, picking up a little piece of meat as though he could tell just by examining it. It has… a similar scent, he thinks, if he focuses on it, but it's somewhat overpowered by all the other flavours.
Kong Meiling nods again. "It wasn't easy butchering it," she admits quietly, "We tried to store as much of it as we could, but between us, we didn't quite have the space for the whole thing. The Chief is very excited to have pieces of the shell and meat though."
It's enough that they saved some of it, he thinks. The noodles aren't bad, but he can't help compare them to Hei Lian's cooking. He can't help comparing everything he eats, so he just tries not to think about it too much.
"And… everyone? Were there any casualties?" He did try his best, but at a certain point, he just didn't have the mental space to think about how everyone else was doing. And then… well, he was in no state to think about it after he had a hole blasted in him.
Kong Meiling's face doesn't shift in the slightest. "There were some injuries - no deaths. Although one of the camels had to be put down."
That's… good. He's relieved, really. He would've been upset if anyone had died, of course, but he cannot help but feel he'd be more upset he went to such lengths to make sure nobody died and then still failed.
Pushing those thoughts aside, he just takes a slow slurp of the broth to compose his words. "I'm glad to hear that. And… both of you? Are you fine?"
She gives him a dry look. "Only one of us is currently in bed, recuperating, Zhou Cheng."
A flash of indignation burns in him, but he doesn't have the energy to be upset. He certainly can't complain that she's healthy where he's not. He's the one who made the decision to push her out of the way. She could stand to be more grateful, perhaps, but he didn't do it so she would thank him.
He did it because it was the right thing to do.
"You did a very reckless thing," she declares quietly, apparently seeing fit to bring up the reason he was recuperating. "Coming to my aid against that brute was one thing - this could've killed you."
He knows that painfully well. If it had struck him maybe a handspan higher - or a few fingers to the left… Unconsciously, he finds his fingers pressing on the spot he felt the attack blast through him and immediately winces. The wound has sealed up, but it's going to be a while before it heals. Rather than address the topic of his 'recklessness', he instead pivots to the wound itself. "How bad was it?" He hadn't really had time to think about it, at the time, and he can't quite tell if he's so drained because his body had to use everything to heal himself, or if it's just a side effect of the Secret Technique.
"Bad enough that we're out of Low Grade Regeneration pills." They didn't have many to begin with - this wasn't supposed to be a dangerous mission after all. "Why you gave one to that brute earlier is a mystery. If we still had it, you would probably be able to fight again."
"I'm not going to regret that decision." With any luck, that cultivator will walk away from the experience having learned a valuable lesson - don't be so familiar with people you don't know. If he had been a mortal, Kong Meiling would've killed him with that slap - and if he hadn't been as strong as he was, she might've done it anyway.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
He doesn't really want to think what he would do if it came to that. What he did was… offensive, and worth punishment, but death? If Kong Meiling had tried to kill him, he would've had to stop her, and then things would've been messier and… Well, it didn't come to that. He can worry about what he would've done later, when the mission is over and he can ask Lian-er if he has any thoughts on the topic.
He was very fond of those kinds of things, for some reason. He, personally, never really got the appeal of thinking about whether you should kill one person to save five or whatever weird situations he concocted, but he supposes having an answer ahead of time could be useful.
For the record, Zhou Cheng came very firmly down on the side of not killing the one person. He refuses to accept that situation. He would save the five without killing anyone, except whoever was putting them in danger.
Kong Meiling, blissfully unaware of his inner monologue, just purses her lip and shakes her head. "Your tendency for heroics is admirable - but it's going to get you killed."
"I'd rather die a Hero than live to be a Villain."
"The world isn't made of Heroes and Villains," she says, and he can tell she's forcing herself from snapping at him, "It's not wrong to preserve your own life."
I'm not wrong for choosing myself over our bond is what he hears. "How far should one go to preserve one's own life?" he counters, "If I let an innocent die so that I may live, is it any different from killing an innocent so I may live?" Okay, maybe he spoke too soon regarding those little scenarios Hei Lian likes to think about, because the way Kong Meiling lowers her gaze fills him with a sense of satisfaction.
… He doesn't like that feeling, actually, and after a moment, he finds he can't look at her expression any longer either.
"Would you have preferred I let it attack you?" he asks quietly.
She doesn't answer at first, and when she does, she is as quiet as he is. "It would have been simpler. You say you do not forgive me - that you do not trust me. That I understand why, does not make it hurt less. But you continue to come to my aid regardless."
"It was the right thing to do." The strong should protect the weak. But Kong Meiling isn't weak. If she were the one struck, she would probably be in a similar position to him really - depending on where she was hit.
… was it really the right thing to do? He cannot actually say. He's already said it, so he'll stand by it, and he does not regret doing it.
"It's not-there was no one right thing to do, Zhou Cheng. You would not have been wrong to have let me be struck. You would not have been wrong to choose your own safety - your own life - over mine."
He doesn't respond. He doesn't really know what to say that he has not already expressed.
She pins him with a look. "You would not have been wrong to choose Hei Lian over me."
His heart skips a beat once the confusion dissolves and he understands her meaning.
If you had died, who would've saved Hei Lian?
He would've liked to believe Tian Mingfei would. But could she? His agreement was between himself and Elder Chu. Would Elder Chu acknowledge his sacrifice and release Hei Lian? Would she simply brush it aside as she was so content to do earlier?
"Hei Lian would not want me to choose you over him." Hei Lian wouldn't want him to choose anyone over him. He'd been so… proud of him when he declared his intent to save the five without killing the one.
If Zhou Cheng allows himself to start thinking it's okay to sacrifice others for the sake of his goal - however noble - then he does not know where that path will end. The Immortal of Shadows had begun his journey with the best of intentions, of protecting his Sect, and he ended it by destroying it and killing his Master when they were repulsed by how far he had gone.
… Well. He supposes he'd ended the journey by being killed by his Martial Sister, but that was somewhat besides the point.
It was easier to live up to the virtues and ideals he had chosen for himself by refusing to brook an alternative. He would save the five without killing the one or die trying. He would protect Kong Meiling from life threatening danger, even if it meant he might die.
He would protect the innocent, fight the wicked, and seek to uphold justice in all things, no matter what it cost him, personally, because if not him… then who?
"Would you want to choose me over Hei Lian?" Kong Meiling asks quietly, breaking the pregnant silence with what he can only describe as a thousand dan hammer.
He can't look directly at her. The answer, he thinks, is rather obvious.
He would choose Hei Lian over a great deal of things, and if he thinks about how far he is willing to extend that…
The Immortal of Shadows just wanted to protect the people he cared about.
She sighs quietly rather than address his entirely too informative silence, and changes the subject. "You were only unconscious for a day, if you were wondering. The… healer," and the way her lips purse suggest her appraisal of their skills isn't particularly glowing, but well, they're mortal so they can hardly expect the best, "has recommended you do not exert yourself for the next week, at least. Do remember we're mostly out of medicine now."
That's not to say they're completely out, but what remains isn't going to be very efficient… or saved for an emergency. "Have we been camping here the entire time then?"
"How long, exactly, do you think it takes to carve up a Sand Devil, Zhou Cheng?" she asks, giving him a pointed look.
… He has no real idea how long it takes to carve up anything, if he's perfectly honest. "... A few hours?" he offers.
She shakes her head. "There is one more thing," she adds after a moment, reaching into her qiankun sleeves to retrieve a glistening, iridescent stone.
It smells like salt and the desert. It smells like the thunder before a storm. It smells like power.
"You delivered the killing blow. Tian Mingfei and I both agree it should go to you." She holds it out to him, and with only a slightly shaking hand, he takes it.
It feels like power. It's not much larger than a knuckle, despite having come from such a gargantuan creature.
"The Chief said we were lucky - it was immature."
His first instinct is to swallow it - to take in its power and refine it, adding it to his own. In his current state… he's not sure he could make the best use of it. And if it were refined into a pill, he would surely grow even further.
Instinct and rationality wage war in his mind until after a long moment, he nods stiffly and slips it into his spatial ring. The weight of it still sits on his mind.
It was almost perfect for his Cultivation. If he used it in a pill…
The silence returns, descending like a blanket over both of them. Finally, she broke it again. "... I would like to ask if you would be amenable to leaving the past behind us. Even if you do not accept my reasons, we share a common goal. Fighting amongst ourselves will not help us."
A scowl flashes across his face briefly. Share a common goal? He's not sure he is willing to believe that. She has agreed to help him, but he cannot help but doubt that her assistance will extend past this quest.
But as he looks down at the dregs of his soup, the bowl still in his lap, he can almost imagine Hei Lian's disappointed frown looking back at him.
"Will it make things better, or will it just make me feel better?"
He doesn't think he will ever be able to trust her completely. But a small, traitorous part of him wants to.
"... Agreed. At least until Lei Ming is dealt with. Afterwards… we shall see."
Afterwards, he intends to leave the Sect entirely. If she chooses to come with him… then he cannot say he will turn her away.
Not yet with any certainty, at least.
"... May I trouble you for a second helping?"
She sighs, but there's an element of fondness to the way her lips twitch ever so slightly. "I do not understand how you can eat so much of this slop."
"I have been eating nothing but congee for the past three years."
"... I suppose that will do it."