"How do you feel?" Yang Qing softly and warmly asked the cicada once he saw that she was fully awake.
Would it have killed you to keep the spell running longer? the cicada inwardly grumbled. My body has never felt this relaxed. W-wait!... Am I dead?
In a panic, the cicada imdiately shot up and began checking herself. All the rest and tranquility Yang Qing’s spell had given her were instantly washed away by heavy panic.
"You’re not dead," said Yang Qing when he saw her reaction. Not that his words had any effect—she still continued with her "dead-not-dead" check, which mostly involved using her limbs to touch her body and confirm it wasn’t incorporeal. When that didn’t seem enough, she moved on to nibbling one of the cones from the cypress tree she inhabited.
Disgusting as always, she thought as she spat out the cone she’d bitten.
The cone tasted like cold sawdust, but at least it helped her confirm she was still alive and kicking.
Still, as thankful as she was to be alive, she wasn’t nearly as high-spirited as soone in that situation should be. The excitent of finding out she was alive was imdiately smothered by the harsh reality of her current circumstances staring right back at her.
That nebulous yin qi ball hanging next to that strange human, ever dutiful, reminded her of her predicant.
Under different circumstances, finding yin qi of that quality and quantity would have left her weeping endlessly in joy for a year, rejoicing at her luck for stumbling upon such tasty, high-grade yin qi. But now, knowing all that had been inside her without her knowledge, all she felt like doing was weeping endlessly for a year straight without stop—bemoaning and cursing her horrible luck.
Her mood imdiately sank further when she recalled that she still had other unknown elents inside her. The spiritual imprint was what gave her the most grief.
"Am I even alive?" she muttered in despair, flying to the ground and letting her body rest ungracefully on its surface.
"You’re very much alive," Yang Qing answered, offering an unsolicited response to a question that likely wasn’t ant for him, nor ant to be answered at all.
The cicada gave him a sideways glance. Even with her insectile face, that glance had a human-like quality to it that Yang Qing could read. It seed to say: what’s this human saying?
"Would you consider a puppet to be alive?" the cicada asked, her voice filled with indignation and exhaustion. "Without free will, even in how you go out, are you really alive?
Tell , human... is this considered living?" she asked as her despondent gaze shifted between Yang Qing and the soil beneath her. The way she stared at it, it almost seed like she had already chosen it as her final resting place.
If I wasn’t such a coward, I’d do it myself rather than endure the tornt of waiting for this poisoned chalice to do in. But now... the cicada shook her head in despair. I guess I’ll have to wait.
Yang Qing walked over and squatted next to her. Feeling his shadow fall over her body, the cicada looked up and saw her tiny form reflected in his green eyes.
Those things seem like they could contain a world in them... and peaceful too. It wouldn’t be bad to spend my last days in there. I wonder if there’s a technique to store soone in their eyes, thought the cicada as she stared into Yang Qing’s eyes.
Given how ’creative’ humans are, there probably is, she added as her gaze turned thoughtful. He looks sketchy enough to actually know such techniques, mused the cicada.
"What are you scheming, looking at like that?" Yang Qing asked curiously. As a habitual scher himself, he could recognize that look anywhere, even on the otherwise emotionless exoskeleton of an insect like the cicada before him.
"I was just thinking that it’d be nice to spend my last years..." The cicada suddenly paused as another thought struck her. "Why am I assuming I’d get years? I might have just days, or maybe hours," she said, shaking her head before turning her attention back to Yang Qing.
"Anyway, whatever ti I have left, I was thinking it wouldn’t be bad to spend it in your eyes," admitted the cicada. "They look peaceful," she added.
Yang Qing’s eyes went slightly ajar."My eyes?" he asked again in disbelief, thinking he’d misheard.
"Yes, your eyes," the cicada straightforwardly admitted. "They’d make a nice nest—and final resting ground," she continued.
"You humans are pretty well known for coming up with all manner of strange techniques. Surely you must have techniques that can do that, right?" She imdiately followed. "Transforming so body part of yours into a habitable space. With how much you love kidnapping spirit beasts, there’s no safer place to keep them than in your own bodies.
You could kidnap them, brainwash them, store them in your bodies, and rear them in there like I’ve seen those mortal humans do," the cicada added. She felt more and more certain the technique she was describing likely existed, the more she spoke about it.
If they could plant so foreign qi into her, along with branding her soul with a rune and a spiritual imprint, then surely creating a nest in their own bodies wasn’t an impossible thing for them. The more she thought about it, the more likely it seed. And if it was true...
Her eyes shone with newfound hope as she looked fervently at Yang Qing.
What’s with her? thought Yang Qing when he saw the strange gaze the cicada was giving him. Has she gone crazy? No no, I made sure to shield her from the earlier clash... There’s not even a single scratch on her. But just to be sure...
Yang Qing imdiately scanned the cicada’s body and soul a few more tis to confirm everything was okay and healthy. It was—which only served to baffle him more, given the cicada’s strange behavior.
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