Xingyun Oneshots

130 - Sacred Simplicity

I was racing to get something out before the end of May you guys, so if this one's kinda rushed or not that good (I feel like that I say that every time but whatever) then that's the reason why

BUT summer has started, and I have officially graduated! Huzzah! I'm gonna try to get some really good oneshots out this summer (even if it doesn't end up being that many 😞) so stay tuned for that! Hopefully I can make this 'Xingyun Summer™' but we'll see lol

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Xingqiu's always liked the rain, even far before he was gifted his vision. He likes how it seems to make the world completely quiet, how it makes the earth and the ground smell of petrichor and how no matter the turmoils of the following storm, it brings with it the most beautiful rainbows.

He likes rain when he's dreadfully bored and it gives him a good reason to don a fancy umbrella and go out for walk, to gracefully avoid puddles and nudge worms back off the path onto the dirt. He likes rain when he needs a good excuse to go inside and read, to curl up in front of the fireplace in the study at home and hear the pattering of rain against the windowsill. He also likes rain when he's out with Chongyun, because he says it helps him find evil spirits better or something like that.

However, he does not like the rain when he's trying to battle a hoard of treasure hoarders and instead he's slipping and sliding through the mud trying desperately to look elegant and brave, and instead looking like a baby fawn who hasn't learned to walk yet.

Thankfully, he's able to fight them off and give them a good lesson to not steal from innocent, unsuspecting merchants again, but after the fight's over and he raises his chin to give the last retreating treasure hoarder and determined glare, he feels his ornate heels slip underneath him and he falls flat on his ass in the mud. Great.

He groans, sweeping his sopping wet bangs out of his eyes and tucking his hair behind his ears, wishing he'd remembered to bring a hair tie with him. His eyes widen in shock as he sees his sword that he'd dropped, jutting perfectly out of the mud on the ground between his legs. One wrong move, and he would have needed a swift and quick trip to Dr. Baizhu's office.

He carefully stands up, grimacing at how dirty he'd become after only 20 minutes of the whole ordeal. His previously pristine-white sleeves are completely soiled and covered in blotchy dirt stains, his boots spattered with thick mud and pulled up grass. With every step he takes he can feel some of the mud that'd managed to get inside his shoes, and he groans uncomfortably.

There's nothing Xingqiu hates more than being dirty - aside from carrots. And people who diss chivalric heroes and figures. And people that give Chongyun a hard time about his Yang energy and try to steal his hard-earned money. But that's besides the point.

Maybe it's because he grew up in a lavish house and was always taught to be presentable, which meant to look as clean and tidy as possible, and to act courteous and polite. His earliest memories are of always being chastised for leaving clothes on the floor in his room instead of bringing them to the laundry room to be washed, and his mother giving him two baths a day until he was old enough to do so himself (though now that he's older, he thinks twice a day is not only excessive if you're not doing something strenuous, but also wasteful of water).

But now that he's out here in the middle of Liyue at nearly midnight, and it's pouring rain and he's sopping wet and covered in dirt and grime and filth, it just makes his skin crawl with an uncomfortable feeling.

Xingqiu. Hates. Being. Dirty.

He pulls his sword out of the mud, yelping in disgust as it flings mud in his face. He tries to wipe away at it with the heel of his hand, but his hands are already so messy that it does little to help.