The spirits buzzed around Xuan Jing like overexcited bees, practically tripping over one another to offer him their treats.
"Ah, I forgot to mention—"
"No, let me do it—!"
"Ahh, out of the way!"
"Ughh, I'm gonna do it!"
"Too late!"
"No, you're late!"
The bickering was a chaotic symphony that echoed through the lush garden, and Wei Lin pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "They're like a bunch of toddlers," he muttered under his breath, watching as one of the spirits finally shoved the others aside and triumphantly held out a stick of glossy, crimson Tanghulu.
The moment the sugary skewers appeared, Xuan Jing's silver eyes locked onto them with the faintest flicker of interest. Wei Lin raised a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a knowing smirk. Here we go… he thought. He'd known Xuan Jing long enough to spot the signs of his secretly voracious sweet tooth.
The spirits seemed to sense it too. "Eat up, Xuán Gē!" they chimed in unison, their voices practically singing with delight.
Xuan Jing, ever composed, gave a soft nod and mumbled, "Thank you…" as he extended his hands to take the treat.
The spirits practically squealed with glee as he accepted it, bouncing on their toes—or whatever passed for toes in their shadowy forms. "You're welcome!" one of them chirped. "Now eat, eat!"
And eat he did. Xuan Jing bit into the first candied hawthorn with a delicacy that betrayed his outwardly stoic demeanor. But the subtle widening of his eyes, the way he lingered on the sweetness before chewing—it was like watching a child rediscover their favorite snack.
Wei Lin chuckled softly, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed. "Sweet tooth strikes again," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.
But then—something happened.
As Xuan Jing polished off the Tanghulu, a faint shimmer began to ripple through the air around him. Wei Lin's smirk faded, replaced with a furrowed brow as he straightened up. "Xuan Jing?" he called cautiously.
The spirits gasped in unison, their glowing eyes sparkling with delight. "Ohhh, here it comes!" one of them giggled.
"What comes?" Wei Lin snapped, his tone sharp as the temperature around him dropped a few degrees.
Xuan Jing's body began to shrink, his teal robes pooling around him as his features softened and his silver hair shortened to a youthful, messy fringe. In the span of seconds, the sixteen-year-old prodigy was no more. Sitting in his place, holding the now-too-large skewer of Tanghulu, was a six-year-old version of himself.
Wei Lin froze, his deep garnet eyes wide with a mix of shock and sheer disbelief. "…You've got to be kidding me."
The spirits, on the other hand, burst into peals of laughter, some clutching their sides as they practically rolled on the ground. "Xuán Gē looks so cuuuute!" one of them squealed, fluttering closer to poke at his chubby cheeks.
"He's like a little doll!" another added, pulling at the oversized sleeve of his baggy teal shirt.
Wei Lin's shock quickly gave way to anger as he stepped forward, his garnet eyes glowing ominously. The air around him turned biting cold, and the spirits recoiled slightly, their giggles faltering. "What. Did. You. Do?" Wei Lin growled, his voice low and dangerous.
"Relax, grumpy shadow," one of the spirits said, sticking out its tongue. "It's not permanent!"
"Yeah, yeah! It's just a little… throwback, you know?" another added, waving its smoky hands dismissively. "A chance to relive the good ol' days!"
Wei Lin's eyes narrowed, his hand hovering near his dagger. "Turn him back. Now."
Before the spirits could respond, little Xuan Jing looked up at Wei Lin, his voice soft but firm. "I'm fine," he said, his tone carrying an eerie calmness for someone who now looked like they belonged in a playpen.
Wei Lin's glare shifted to Xuan Jing, and for a moment, the two stared at each other in tense silence. Then, as if to punctuate the absurdity of the situation, little Xuan Jing took another bite of the Tanghulu, his tiny hands gripping the oversized skewer with surprising dignity.
The spirits, emboldened by Xuan Jing's lack of protest, stuck their tongues out at Wei Lin. "See? He's fine!" one of them said, blowing a raspberry.
"Yeah, stop being such a killjoy!" another chimed in, fluttering closer to Xuan Jing. "Xuán Gē, do you want more Tanghulu? Or maybe some Osmanthus cakes?"
Wei Lin pinched the bridge of his nose again, his patience wearing dangerously thin. "I swear to the heavens, if you don't fix this—"
"Enough," Xuan Jing interrupted, his small voice cutting through the commotion like a blade. He stood—or rather, tried to stand—before stumbling slightly under the weight of his oversized clothes. Wei Lin immediately moved to steady him, muttering something under his breath about impulsive spirits and their stupid games.
"I said I'm fine," little Xuan Jing repeated, brushing off Wei Lin's hand. He adjusted his robes as best he could, the sleeves dragging comically along the ground. "This… form… is inconvenient, but it won't hinder me."
The spirits exchanged amused glances before one of them grinned mischievously. "Inconvenient, huh? Want us to carry you, Xuán Gē?"
"Or maybe braid your hair?" another teased, holding up a spectral comb.
Xuan Jing's silver eyes glinted, and for a moment, the spirits fell silent, their playful giggles fading. Even as a child, there was an undeniable weight to his gaze—a reminder that, no matter his size, he was not to be underestimated.
"Lead the way," Xuan Jing said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The spirits nodded quickly, their wings fluttering as they moved ahead. Wei Lin sighed heavily, his garnet eyes flicking to Xuan Jing as he walked beside him. "You're too calm about this," he muttered.
"And you're too reactive," Xuan Jing replied smoothly, his tiny hands gripping the oversized Soul Lantern. "Focus, Wei Lin. We still have a path to follow."
Wei Lin groaned, running a hand through his messy bun. "You're impossible."
Little Xuan Jing smirked faintly, his silver eyes glinting with the faintest trace of amusement. "And you're predictable. Now, stop glaring at the spirits. They're not worth your grump."