You arrive in Qingping Village just as the lanterns are being lit. The road winds through quiet hills, but the village itself hums with life, warm light spilling from every doorway, laughter drifting through the air, ribbons of color strung between wooden beams.

The festival has already begun, and for a moment you simply stand there, taking it in. It feels distant from everything you know… and yet, somehow, exactly where you’re meant to be.

Zayne is already there. You spot him near the central square, surrounded by villagers who seem to rely on him for everything at once, directions, decisions, quiet reassurances.

He moves with that same composed precision you’ve come to expect, his expression calm but focused, his attention pulled in a dozen directions. When his eyes briefly meet yours, there’s a flicker of recognition, soft, almost hidden, but he doesn’t stop. Not yet.

He’s busy. Of course he is. So you let yourself wander. You pass stalls filled with handwoven fabrics and steaming food, the scent of herbs and spice curling through the evening air. Children run past you with glowing lanterns, their laughter echoing like something out of a dream. Somewhere, music begins, slow at first, then rising, weaving itself into the rhythm of the crowd.

Time slips by without you noticing. And then, finally, the festival begins to quiet. The lanterns burn lower. The music fades. People drift home, their voices soft now, satisfied. You find him again at the edge of the hot springs, without the ceremonial clothes, and with an outfit that matched yours.

Zayne exhales when he sees you, just slightly, but enough that you notice. “You waited,” he says. You shrug, though your smile gives you away. “You looked like you needed to finish saving the entire village first.”

A faint hint of amusement touches his expression. “It wasn’t the entire village.”

“Just most of it?” He doesn’t answer, but the silence feels lighter now. After a pause, he gestures for you to follow him. He takes your hand as you enter the pool. Then he turns around and lies face down at the edge.

You lean forward and run your hands up his back, placing them on his shoulders as you wrok out the tense muscles, teasing and chatting for stuff.

After a moment he turns to face you, pulling you towards him, placing his hand on your waist as he picks you up, changing your places, so that now, you're the one against the edge.

The unease had started creeping up as Zayne pressed closer, kissing his way up your neck. After a moment, you touched his arm as your breathing increased and he pulled back to look at you.

Noticing your struggle to breathe, he assesses the symptoms, noting the widened pupils as he places a cool hand on the back of your head in a steading manner while he talks to you, staying calm as always as he tries to calm you down.