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Rosetta & Yuhong meeting

word count: 1606The streets were bustling with locals, merchants and visitors. Rosetta was visiting the busiest part of town in Xihu, where a big portion of the city’s trade happened. The main street consisted of a wide passageway with traditional buildings on both sides, decorated with various signs advertizing things Rosetta had absolutely no interest in. It seemed like she was an outlier though, because every restaurant and store had multiple people lining up just to get in.This was how it often went down when she visited town. Her home is located a bit deeper in the mountains, where it is calmer and more serene — a place with lush green grass and a small waterfall. She had hired a few people through her connection in the heavens to build this house for her personally. It wasn’t big or grandiose, but her home still felt almost idyllic, if it weren’t for the fact that her friends Ailuo and Devvi also lived there occasionally. It’s not that she didn’t like being around her friends … they worry too much over her sometimes. Come on, she’s been alive for about 500 years now, she knows what she’s doing!Regardless, she didn’t actually mind the attention that much.She was pulled out of her thoughts when she remembered she had a mission on hand — she ran out of ink to write her poems, and her brushes were starting to break. The poet was a regular in a cozy store tucked away near the end of the long, busy street, almost unnoticeable if you didn’t pay close enough attention to it. The ink and brushes they sold there were made of very high quality and scarce materials, making them sell more on the expensive side. She always tried to save up money through commission work from paintings and personalized poems to actually be able to afford these things. It often took her several months to actually gather enough for a single set.Her favorite brushset included a brush made out of fine brown rabbit hair and neatly carved red sandalwood. It carried a natural scent of chrysanthemum in it too, due to the production process of making one. The artisan of the store always submerged the brush tip in freshly dried chrysanthemums before letting it dry for about a month. They wrote with excellent ease and were extremely satisfying to drag across her scrolls.Due to the amount of people around, she had a harder time navigating her surroundings than usual. It seemed like there was some type of sale event going on … not that Rosetta cared that much.Since the store was all the way at the end of the street, she decided to look around a bit this time. The commoners pushed and pulled in the crowd and people flowed together like gentle waves crashing upon a rock. She tried to get to a part of the road with a little fewer people, because if she had to be honest, it got a little too suffocating for her in that crowd. Her stomach growled a little; right on time. The poet had developed a bad habit of forgetting to eat when she became too obsessed and indulged herself in her work, often forgoing basic necessities such as food and water. Devvi was always the one to remind her of these things.Upon squeezing herself outside of the crowd, her eye caught a food stand next to a restaurant with even more people lining up to dine in. It was standing independently from the other stalls and was covered in red banners with text on them. The poet raised her eyes to inspect what the stand actually sold as she read the words.“FRESHLY MADE MOONCAKE! BUY NOW FOR EXTRA CHEAP!”“Mooncakes in this season?” Rosetta thought. It wasn’t anytime near the mid autumn festival yet, so she was surprised this was being sold at all. It seemed like enough people were interested though, because there was a sizable amount of people surrounding the small stand.The mooncake wasn’t what caught her eye first, though.It was more the fact that it advertized itself as “EXTRA CHEAP”.She hurried over to the stall to actually get a look at the prices. As she got closer, she smelled the signature scent of lotus mooncakes — her favorite!However, she was about to get disappointed very quickly as she actually read the prices for each mooncake.The poet stared at the price labels on each mooncake.“2 SILVER QUARTERS - LOTUS MOONCAKE”Two entire silver quarters?! And this was advertized as cheap? The most Rosetta had on hand were a few bronze coins that she could spare if she still wanted to afford that brushset she needed to get. She stood there for a while, contemplating whether she should just get the mooncake to relieve herself of her hunger or to just starve herself for another few days for her art. The mooncakes were very tempting … she hadn’t eaten one in a long time.The vendor suddenly started loudly advertizing and preaching about his mooncakes, which pulled Rosetta out of her thoughts again. She started digging around in her wallet to see if she maybe, just coincidentally, had counted wrong and indeed had a few coins to spare.She turned up empty-handed.The poet shot the stall another look as she sighed. Guess she just needs to starve for today — it wasn’t like she wasn’t used to it anyway.As she turned her back to the stall, she suddenly felt a bump on her shoulder. Not a surprise considering there were so many people around, but this one felt a bit more … intentional.“Sorry about that, excuse me-“ Rosetta murmured as she tried to make space for the stranger.“No worries. Did you want to get that mooncake over there?”The stranger who bumped into her had a fairly deep yet silky voice. It felt quite masculine, yet it carried a sense of artistic cadence to it. She looked up at the stranger to find the origin of the voice as she was met with a man, appearing to be in his mid-twenties, with long, black silky hair that blended into red at the ends, tied up in a ponytail with uneven bangs, appearing to be longer on his right side than the left. He wore a tassel earring with the words “Yuchen” on it. On his nose was a pair of golden rimmed glasses that didn’t even seem to cover his eyes correctly. Rosetta wondered if he was actually seeing through them or if they were just there for the purpose of an accessory.“Oh, hello …? Uh … yes I was thinking about it, but I have more important things to spend my money on right now. Sorry I’m not interested in whatever sale you’re trying to-““Oh no darling, I wasn’t trying to sell you anything. Do you want the mooncake? I can get you one.”Rosetta was confused. Why would a stranger willingly pay another stranger to buy food for … themselves …? She looked at him with skepticism in her eyes and furrowed her eyebrows slightly.He must’ve caught onto that as he continued.“I’m just offering; if you don’t want one after all, you can tell me, ‘Bygone Flower’s scent’ 旧香荣心.”Rosetta’s eyes widened as she heard the last part of that sentence. Her brain short-circuited, and a chill ran down her spine — that was her pen name! Nobody knew her penname! She had always published her works as an anonymous author, and even did most of her commissions anonymously. How come this complete stranger even knows how she looks like?!“Wh- how do you-““It wasn’t that hard to figure out for someone of my level of expertise. Come on, I’ll get that mooncake for you.”The stranger didn’t even give Rosetta the time to respond and he already made his way to the vendor and pulled out his wallet.He came back a second later. She noticed that he had gotten two mooncakes instead, as he gave one to her and kept the other one.“My apologies, I haven’t even introduced myself yet. Family name Yu, courtesy name Chen, given name Hong. You may call me however you wish. May I know my favorite poet’s name too, or are you still keen on keeping it a secret?”“Ahh, thank you for the mooncake, really, but how do you … know?”“Forgive me for being cryptic. It wasn’t my intention. Your works have inspired me a lot, Bygone Flower’s Scent 旧香荣心, I’m a big fan. I’m somewhat of a poet myself, so I would love to learn what motivates you to write your works, if you don’t mind of course.”Rosetta felt a bit shocked. She hadn’t expected her work to inspire people like this. A part of her felt a bit disturbed, still confused as to how in heavens this man found her outside of her works, but another felt a little bit … intrigued. He said he was a poet too? Rosetta didn’t have many connections to other poets, despite her pen name being quite well-known.“You said … you’re a poet too? Do you have a pen name aswell?“Oh no, I only write poems in my free time, I have yet to actually publish any; I apologize if that disappointed you.”“That’s okay, do you mind showing me your work sometime? Actually, I’m headed towards my favorite art store to buy some supplies right now, maybe you can come with me.”“That sounds wonderful.”.
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.Author’s note: rosetta not panicking allat much about the fact that a whole STRANGER somehow knows how she LOOKS LIKE from her pen name ALONE and also somehow KNOWS where she IS is written intentionally by me, she’s kind of dense and doesn’t know how to protect herself well. that’s the entire reason either ailuo or devvi or both are always keeping an eye out on rosetta cause she has no survival skills at all, kind of related to the fact that she lost her memories/has amnesia but i’ll expand on that in the futureand also 旧香荣心 is a roughly translated into bygone flower’s scent in english with some extra creative liberties, the former is her chinese penname and the latter her english one

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Yuhong & Qingyu, Reunion

word count: 1172The sky wasn’t necessarily clear on that day. It was rather humid.Yuhong searched for the vague trail patterns left inside the forest. He was on a very typical mission again — one that, quite frankly, bored him to death. Not that he can tell anyone that to though, he had an image to uphold. Except to Rosetta, perhaps.There were reported “ghostly” anomalies reported along this path, deep inside the forests on the outskirts of Xianshan. He was sent by a quite frankly annoying and forgettable heavenly official to scout out the area and eliminate any monsters or enemies in sight. With years of swordsmanship experience under his belt, this mission was supposed to be a piece of cake.He held the map that was given to him and gave it a bored look, trying to navigate his surroundings. The poet didn’t want to admit it, but he might have become a little lost, despite claiming it was an “easy mission”.He scoffed.“For such a high ranking official, this map is incredibly poorly drawn. The man obviously has no experience in artistry.” He mutters under his breath.The forest was densely packed with bamboo of various heights and green and red colored maple trees. During early autumn, the leaves hadn’t fallen yet — it created an honestly beautiful sight. The green leaves blended in with the fresh bamboo and the red accents acted as a complementary contrast to its surroundings. Some of it coating the trail paths so much, that you can’t even recognize where it starts and ends anymore.Maybe that was the reason he got lost. That’s right. It was because of those damn leaves.~~“Red leaves, they scatter ablaze
Coating paths, forming a maze.
Here I stand, lost in a daze.
As the light glimmers and sways,
I grasp at straws for a way out.”~~Well, he wasn’t really trying to “find his way out”, was he. More like a way in, but creative liberty is only natural for an artist of his caliber. The leftover summer sun was still shining its residue warmth, so he was also left slightly drenched in sweat under his layered robes. You couldn’t blame him for slacking off a little on his work.After a long while, he stopped standing there, just pondering over nothing. But not because he wanted to; there was a sudden shift in the air. The forest had grown uncomfortably quiet, like he was in the eye of a storm.Then, suddenly, he spotted movement from his peripheral vision.A thin, silver blade shot across the air, seemingly directly aimed at him. It missed him just by the width of a hair strand, having grazed his left upper cheek in the process.He was left unsure if the missing part of the attack was intentional or not.The blade flew past him, into a bamboo stem behind the poet, splitting it perfectly in half.Yuhong squinted his eyes as he tried to locate the source of the mystery blade, as he was suddenly pinned onto a tree trunk by a masked figure. A second blade was held under his throat, lightly touching his adam’s apple, making it bleed, but not hurt.Fiery red eyes met those all-too familiar calm teal eyes.They brought up memories he had long forgotten, memories that he would’ve liked to forget anyway.But did he really want that?—“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Yuhong said, admittedly too calm for the predicament he’s in.“Yuhong. Courtesy name, Yuchen. Let’s make this quick. Do you have any last words before I press my sword into your throat?” Qingyu addressed him directly, leaving Yuhong unsure if it was an intimidation tactic or if Qingyu was just playing pretend.Or both.“A hello would’ve been nice, to be frank. Under whose orders are you to take me out? I recon I could name him if I think hard enough about it.” Yuhong replied.He then looked up, as if visibly thinking about something. Qingyu recognized that annoying habit of his, and braced for what he was about to say next.“Or would you rather “take me out” to dinner? I wouldn’t complain. A meal’s a meal-““Wont you shut that filthy mouth of yours for just one second? You’ve made a bunch of enemies for yourself, Yuhong. That’s why I’m here.” Qingyu shot back.“Well, that I definitely know. Why don’t you do it then; go ahead, slash my throat, like you would have done during our sparring matches if they went too far.”…There was only silence. Qingyu didn’t move, neither did Yuhong.Slowly, Qingyu lowered his blade.“Awh, shucks, and they say my charm is fake.”Qingyu sighs. His posture, which was hunched over a little, a questionable attempt at appearing more intimidating, straightened itself. Yuhong could see Qingyu was conflicted and probably deep in thought. He always prided himself on how he could read the man better than anyone else, even with the lack of emotion he showed.The poet didn’t dare say, but he almost looked a little … overwhelmed. As if, for once, his emotions were taking over.Obviously Yuhong wasn’t overwhelmed though, he’s excellent at keeping his calm in any situation. This sudden reunion after nearly a decade doesn’t impact him at all. That’s right. Yeah.Atleast, that’s what he’d liked to believe.In the meantime, he could feel his heart racing.The forest around them wasn’t as quiet as earlier anymore. The air felt much more oddly relaxed, in a way. There was a slight breeze that could be felt as Yuhong’s long hair grazed his cheek — the same spot where Qingyu’s blade left a mark.“Well, you won this time, I suppose. It’s not over yet, don’t think I’m still not coming for you.”Yuhong sucks in a breath.“You’re not “coming” for m-““NO! You KNOW that’s not what I meant- ugh. Don’t mention our meeting to anyone. My patrons cannot know about this.” Qingyu rushes out, slightly flushed out of anger, or something else he couldn’t describe. Regardless, he was grateful for the mask he was wearing. Yuhong had this effect on him; he knew which buttons to push to send him over the edge.“You don’t even know who your patrons are.” Yuhong contests. Qingyu didn’t reply to that.A moment later, Qingyu finally responded, realizing the silence had become awkward. “I’m going to leave now.” He stated bluntly, pulling his other blade from the bamboo stem and turning around, before Yuhong stopped him.“Wanna come by for tea later at my palace? You know where it is.”Qingyu looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. His only reply was a scoff, which only made Yuhong’s grin even wider.With a flurry of his robes, Qingyu turned around, sheathing his twin blades back into their cases, as he fled from the site, leaving Yuhong behind.The poet was alone, again.He was still lost, but he was content with it.

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