‘Step cautiously where you suspect depth,’ Jongin thought as he watched Yixing, who was sitting cross legged on the floor across from him while unpacking his bags, even though the reason why was beyond Jongin – the new house he had a feeling Yixing had been duped into renting straight away was as bare as bare could be. But that wasn’t what prompted his thought. Jongin had a feeling that he had been doing this whole sage and confidant thing wrong, judging from the indecipherable look on Yixing’s face. Maybe he had been too extreme, drawing blood from the cow instead of milk. Or maybe he was too subtle and thus dull. What was the golden mean?

But Jongin knew better than to ‘wake Misfortune when she sleeps. One slip is a little thing: yet some fatal loss may follow it till you do not know where it will end.’ He knew better than to ask “Did something happen?” Damn it.

“Like what?” Yixing asked, attention still on his belongings.

“I don’t know, you just seem a bit-” Jongin paused, trying to figure out what it was, “-happy?” Or was it wistful? Weren’t those opposites?

“Of course I am,” Yixing said dismissively. “I finally got things sorted.”

Jongin nodded. He supposed that was all there was. But did this mean that his work was done? ‘When dependence disappears, good behaviour goes with it as well as respect.’ Was it time for him to abide by the ‘maxim of the wise,’ ‘to leave things’ before they left him? Was it time for him to bid goodbye and let Yixing find his own way to becoming ‘a saint’? Because the longer he stayed, the more it seemed that ‘no day, no hour’ was his own, that he ‘knew everything for others’ but ‘nothing for himself’, and at the end of the day, ‘freedom was more precious than any gifts for which he may be tempted to give it up.’

Or did things just seem that way because he had taken things against the grain, contrary to Gracián’s advice? Had he let his sagacity degenerate into cunning while he was too busy taking his enemy’s spear by the blade and finding grief in everything, much like his predecessor? Wasn’t he a lot wiser back when he trusted his heart, as ironic as that was? Now he was no different from the average person, unable to enjoy things that were incomplete. In fact, if he thought about it, he was the one nourishing himself ‘on bitters and battening on garbage’, fixing upon defects in everybody and nothing else. Was he unknowingly becoming ‘an abominable thing, a man that lives without a heart’? Maybe his predecessor had a point – maybe he was a douche. Gracián couldn't be more right when he said that ill will could be turned into a mirror ‘more faithful than that of kindness.’

The truth was indeed a ‘lancet of the heart.’ He had undoubtedly failed miserably at this task that Yixing had entrusted him with. How was he ‘the complete man’ when he was foolish enough to fall victim to passion’s grandchild who ‘never did anything right’, all while pointing out the exact same failing in others? ‘The greatest fool is he who thinks he is not one and all others are.’ He said that himself just a few hours prior, but how did he not realise that he was the greatest fool after all?

“Do you know what ‘the first great rule of life’ is?”

Yixing gave him an odd look, making it apparent that he wasn’t that keen to indulge Jongin this time.

“No, really, what is ‘the first great rule of life’?” Jongin repeated.

“‘To put up with things’,” Yixing sighed. “That chapter of my life is over, remember? I don’t have to put up with fools anymore.”

“You ‘have to put up with most from those on whom you most depend’.”

“I don’t depend on him.”

“Not my predecessor. Me.”

Yixing paused, appearing to think that over before apparently deciding to give the conversation his full attention and pushing his belongings aside. “I don’t get it.”

“I let my obstinacy lead to ‘a case of lèse majesté’. I championed rudeness and foolishly tried to ‘rival the brilliancy of the sun.’ I’m less cut out to be as great a man as Grácian was than you are.”

“Well, hello there, windy words,” Yixing said, interest piqued. “What’s going on?”

“‘An evil once known is soon conquered.’”

“What evil?”

“The ‘grandchild of passion’ is an excrescence of my mind. I’ve been blinding myself with the unfounded assumption of imaginary applause.”

“Not completely unfounded,” Yixing said, amusement in his tone. “You’re still a ‘universal hero’ to me.”

“‘Flattery is more dangerous than hatred.”

“Okay, you might have been a bit mean this morning, but you’re allowed to have ‘some venial fault’, right?”

“‘Tis a gallant thing to get clear of them.’ ‘Irrational affection for avoidable faults’ is a double evil.”

“I doubt you’re wedded or having ‘illicit relations’ with your faults.”

“‘The example of the great is so specious that it even glosses over viciousness.’”

“Come on now, you weren’t vicious.”

“‘One cannot easily cause pain to another without suffering pain either from sympathy or from remorse.’”

“You didn’t cause anybody pain,” Yixing said, dismissing the idea. “I appreciate your roundabout apology though. Does this mean that you’re acknowledging that this morning happened?”

“Not just this morning. I failed twice, ‘both in judgment and in the execution’.”

“‘It is preposterous to take to heart that which you should throw over your shoulders’, right? It’s not a big deal.”

It was definitely a good idea to appeal to his ‘inner Court of Revision’, Jongin thought. He managed to not ‘lose his way in either the ramifications of useless discussion or in the brushwood of wearisome verbosity’ and got his point across as succinctly as he could. Well, maybe not quite, but Gracián did say that conversations ‘held with persons to whom one would show respect’ ‘should be more dignified to answer to the dignity of the person addressed.’

“I didn’t think you’d be the one to bring it up though,” Yixing continued.

“It’s more important to have ‘a graceful exit’ than ‘applause on entrance’.”

“I’ll call out for an encore any day.”

Yixing was turning out to be better at utilising slips and finishing off well, Jongin thought, extricating himself ‘from the most intricate labyrinth by some witty application of a bright remark.’ It was more than ironic that someone he thought was without the ‘privilege of the highest order of mind’ and deserving of ‘friendly counsel’ was turning out to be much better at it than he was. Could it be that Yixing was actually the dashing man who had only granted Jongin stolen glances at his excellence, instead of the other way around? Was it possible that Yixing had turned Gracián’s aphorism to ‘create a feeling of obligation’ on its head and staged a façade of being obliged instead, making it seemed as if he was receiving a favour rather than doing one?

“‘Prudent, discreet, sagacious, cautious, wise, courageous, thoughtful, trustworthy, happy, honoured, truthful, and a universal hero,’” Jongin said. “I think you’ve reached your ‘highest point.’”

“I would’ve preferred a bit more originality,” Yixing said, a grin betraying his words.

“‘Praise arouses desire at times by giving them a striking name, which is very useful for putting things at a premium.’”

Yixing laughed. “When will you learn to shut up while you’re ahead?”

“You surprise me sometimes.”

“Do I now?”

“You’ve mastered the art of appreciating all men, seeing ‘the good in each’ and knowing ‘how hard it is to make anything good.’ You’re more than capable of becoming a saint.”

“I think you’re pushing it a bit.”

“You’ve also chosen ‘an heroic ideal’ and managed to emulate rather than imitate. I wouldn’t be surprised if you surpass Gracián.”

“I think your windy words are turning into a gale.”

“‘Men would be wise if they did not think themselves wise.’”

“So you’re saying that you’re not?”

“No, but now I know my ‘ruling star’ so I’m no longer unlucky or helpless.”

“When were you ever?” Yixing asked, chuckling. “I’d rather be the wise physician than a prince you’re obliged to bow down to.”

“I’ll help you carry out the corpse either way.”

“I don’t know what sort of prince you think I’m going to be, but I like that.”

“‘Sublime in action’ and ‘lofty in thought.’”

“And sneaky too apparently.”

Yixing’s casual criticism of Gracián and his quotes should be something he admired, Jongin realised, something to make him think beyond what was written. ‘Steadfastness should be for the will, not for the mind,’ Gracián had said. Maybe Yixing understood Gracián better than Jongin himself did.

“I think I figured out how to find the golden mean.”

“Have you?”

“It’s not by ‘joining extremes’ as Gracián said, but by choosing to be in the company of someone who can help me ‘reach the highest point’ of my completed being. It’s not about resembling god and being my own ‘universal friend’, it’s about exposing my desires and defects to someone and not have to worry about inviting contempt. It’s about finding someone who won’t wage war someday, someone who will still be my second existence even after the novelty has passed.”

“And where will you find that someone?”

“I already have.”

Jongin’s words were met with a grin. “So basically Gracián didn’t know what he was talking about.”

“No, he’s telling us to ‘live for the moment’ and to ‘not live by certain fixed rules.’ I think that’s the whole point of the Art of Worldly Wisdom; to make you think for yourself after you’ve been given insight into all these things.”

“I suppose so,” Yixing said, nodding. “Are you going to fully embody a sage now that you’ve discovered the golden mean?”

“What use is being a sage if you have to depend on yourself alone?”

“True, that does sound a bit sad.”

Jongin reached over to grab the long forgotten duffel bag next to Yixing. “I’ll help you unpack. We’ll go grab my stuff later.”

“Your stuff?”

“Yeah. I’ve figured it out so there’s not much point in staying at the South West Flats anymore.”

“What?” Yixing said, the word coming out as an incredulous laugh.

“I’m moving in with you. My lease is ending anyway.”

“Did you decide that just now?”

“Yeah,” Jongin said, a bit confused as to what the fuss was about.

Yixing shook his head, chuckling. “Fine, we'll do things your way.”