( “life and death are one. when the end comes, we’ll just return to heaven and earth.”

when he’d loosed the arrow from his bow, in the split second before the rhizomatic bomb detonated and engulfed everything in heat and light, he’d remembered the quiet conviction of heng’s words. it’s strange, given that yi has died more times than he can count—whenever his body has failed him, Fusang had intervened, regenerating him within the nodes of its Roots. he knew that this would be different. it had been—thought not in the way he expected. memories of his home in xia, of Penglai and its vast and beautiful oceans, of heng waiting for him to return… in that split second, they were what had filled his mind. but now, surrounded by foreign plastic, glass, and metal, in a corner of space he can’t even begin to recognize, they all feel so far away. once again, he has failed to return home to her. and this time, he has left shuanshuan behind as well. he, too, had felt conviction in the moment that he’d loosed that arrow, but… standing here, looking out into the limitless potential of space, he struggles to understand what it had all been for.

if anything, it had been the closing of a circle. the Eternal Cauldron Project… his own portrait of self-assured arrogance and callous cruelty. perhaps it is only right that he had been the one to destroy it, once and for all.

ultimately, yi’s attention is not drawn by the impressive trading post that had been constructed as a honeycombed skein over the planet below. space is no novelty to him, nothing romantic or extravagant or mysterious; he is familiar enough with its requisite theories. no, instead he finds himself inspecting the curious machines that operate throughout this station—Hosts, they are called. they are quite different in design from the robots that his own people had designed for similar functions. he recognizes insects and animals… though his attention sticks rather obviously when he sees the cat-like Host, slinking out from behind a corner to watch him (perhaps with more curiosity than it might any other Wayfarers).

his almond-shaped eyes widen for a moment, shocked, before narrowing to slits. this actually isn’t the first time he’s seen such a creature, though the only other time had been upon discovering the results of one of eigong’s experiments down in her lab… )

Hmph. ( he doesn’t seem altogether pleased about the similarity. )

( having had more time to think about it, yi thinks that he might be in hell.

fair enough. he has done more than enough to deserve such a thing.

of course, the romantic ideal of being brave pioneers set on the noble quest of exploring the unknown corners of the galaxy in search of some enigmatic “Song” flies in the face of such an understanding, but at the moment, he’s convincing himself that it’s all some sort of ruse and that the other shoe has yet to drop. after all, why else would he find himself thrown among a bunch of other Wayfarers which, to his eyes, all seem to be apemen—a race of people he himself had seen enslaved? surely, this must be some sort of punishment, and an ironic one at that. )

( a — call it a character flaw, but yi distracts himself with drink. now, anyone just looking at him might find this questionable—yi actually is of age (give or take five hundred years), but he certainly doesn’t look it, given the fact that he’s well under five feet tall and with a youthfulness that had caused even the robot bartender remaining in the Empyrean District to question if he was old enough (and they were familiar with solarians!). despite all of this, he has a sizable carafe of the uspide-down plum spark-wine set before him where he sits in the mess hall, and he’s drinking generously from it. the fact that it burns doesn’t bother him at all; in his mind, that just means it’s working.

any attention he might draw is met with a narrowed gaze—quite at odds with the faint flush to his face. ) If you have something to say, speak up and say it to me directly.

( did you even say anything? it’s possible that you didn’t. the side-effect of the wine is that he begins to pick up on surface level thoughts of those around him, so he might’ve just accidentally heard something you thought… )

( b — it might give others pause, but the red buffalo shank with spiked lotus looks normal enough to yi’s solarian eyes. the smell draws him to claim a plate from one of the food trucks, and he descends ravenously on it basically as soon as he sits down. apparently he was far hungrier than he thought.

there are only so many tables that one can sit at; if one wishes to sit at all, they often have to sit with others they don’t know. yi is at first standoffish, perhaps only offering stiff greetings to anyone else that may be already seated or who might join him. but once he has eaten perhaps half of the food on his place, its effects begin to overcome him; he remembers the meal that shuanshuan had prepared for himself and kuafu, using the book of solarian reicipes he’d gotten for him.

before he even knows it, he’s speaking: ) There is a solarian board game called Qiankun… it’s known to be the oldest strategic board game made. I’d found a set some time ago, and I’d given it to—a young human, ( he at least has the presence of mind to stop and correct himself here; he most likely, by this point, has learned that they don’t like to be called “apemen,” ) named Shuanshuan. I taught him the rules. I never held back against him, and though I beat him every time, he wanted to keep playing… ( yi’s eyes grow hazy. ) The last time I played him, he defeated me… I realized it before the game was even half-over.

( he laughs, and he shakes his head. the memory is a happy one, but it’s tinged with sorrow; he’d known it would be the last time he’d ever play qiankun with the boy. ) Then he told me he didn’t even play to win. Only to have fun. ( torn between insulted and proud, he errs on the side of “proud.” and not to mention “humbled.” )

( this is already getting long, but other Wayfarers can also find yi:

a — trying the other food and drink in the mess hall, though the cake is perhaps too ridiculous for him to think of trying—unless one goads him into it?
b — watching the x’enuda on the observation deck with a far-off look in his eye; they seem to remind him of something.
c — closely inspecting the smaller spacecraft in the Theorem’s hangar and talking energetically with a somewhat-overwhelmed Host about its design specifications; he seems especially interested in whatever is powering and fueling them. )

( there are brief descriptions of yi’s character and his canon in his journal. feel free to pm me with any questions! )