Chapter Text
Consciousness came as slowly and uneasily as always to Xie Lian. He registered the weight of his joints, toes tingling in protest as he wiggled them, and then dragged his awareness up the rest of his body, assessing his initial damage for the day. By the time he reached his knees he had registered the soft blanket draped over him, and the comfort of the couch he lay on - far more supportive than his own lumpy mattress. His face felt warm, and he opened his eyes to see dappled sunlight shining through the window, softened by a large tree that blocked its path. He stretched, letting his fingers run along the plush fabric of the blanket, and for once, the gentleness of his awakening and warmth of the room eased his usual aches. The blanket smelled like a combination of old coffee and sharp cologne; Xie Lian pulled it up to his face for a moment, savouring the sense of luxury and comfort it provided. It had been a long time since he had owned something this soft, and even longer since someone had cared enough to provide him with it.
As he inhaled, shuddering into wakefulness, he heard the sizzling of a pan and another scent reached his nostrils - rice and sesame. All at once his stomach felt painfully empty, and he dragged himself to his feet, wrapping the blanket around himself and shuffling with creaking hips towards the source.
If Xie Lian had forgotten that he was at Hua Cheng’s, he couldn’t remain ignorant when he started navigating the floor. Someone - it was obvious who, but the gesture made Xie Lian too hot around the collar to consider it fully - had placed slippers at the foot of the couch, and he was grateful to put his feet in them, because immediately after he stepped on a jumble of bric-a-brac with a sinister snap. He stifled a shriek, balancing against the couch to make sure he hadn’t broken anything, and then continued onwards, navigating precariously stacked books and discarded ornaments. He saw his own name on the spines more than once, and his initial humble embarrassment faded into curiosity: he had had no idea that Hua Cheng was interested in ethical theory.
When he finally made it to the kitchen Xie Lian was greeted with a sight that he knew most of Hua Cheng’s tencent fans would want to burn his eyes out just for witnessing. Hua Cheng wore a simple black tank top and red athletic shorts, his apron tied neatly around his waist as he stirred the rice in the pan, bent carefully over it. His false eye was absent, an eyepatch in its place, and his hair was loose to frame his face, and Xie Lian reassured himself with the belief that he must have washed and brushed it before Xie Lian had woken up. It was impeccable, and Xie Lian ruffled his own half-dismantled messy bun self-consciously.
Hua Cheng brought a spoon to his lips, nodded once, and then reached for a nearby carton of eggs. He tested his aim before cracking them into the pan, tapping each egg against the corner of the counter top. When he was done he wiped his fingers on his apron and turned to Xie Lian, flashing a smile not unlike the dawning sun that had woken him.
“Good morning, gege! I made breakfast.”
He really had stayed the night at Hua Cheng’s, then. Not only that, but Hua Cheng had let him. Xie Lian stared at his borrowed red slippers, feeling heat creep up the back of his neck like a spider.
“I’m so sorry - you didn’t invite me to stay the night and I imposed on you like that..” He began. He had no problem with crashing at homes with permission - he’d been forced to often enough that he’d worked couch surfing for just the right amount of time not to be a nuisance down to an art - but none of his friends lived in places as nice as this, not even Shi Qingxuan, and he’d never done it by accident. He felt like a parasite; like Hua Cheng would think that he’d planned this, to leech more from him than he’d offered.
For a moment Hua Cheng just stared, his real eye wide and startled, and then he laughed, waving his spatula, and the rabbit pace of Xie Lian’s heart settled once more. Somehow that laugh had spoken volumes, and Xie Lian understood all at once that his fears had no grounds in Hua Cheng’s reality.
Funny how Hua Cheng could so easily put his insecurities to rest. It must be why he was so popular with teenagers.
“I don’t often take the time to eat breakfast when it’s just me.” Hua Cheng said, and as simply as that, Xie Lian had a reason to be there again. He rolled up the sleeves of his now rumpled shirt.
“That’s no good, San Lang. Breakfast is important! Let me help you finish up.”
“Yes please. You can take over here if you like. I’ll grab bowls and coffee.”
The kitchen wasn’t small but Hua Cheng must have been used to working alone, because even though he asked Xie Lian to step in he didn’t move aside, leaving him with no choice but to weasel in front of him to take the spatula. He blushed when his free hand knocked against Hua Cheng’s bare thigh, stumbling to apologise, but Hua Cheng moved away without comment before he could. Swallowing his words, Xie Lian busied himself with the eggs, ensuring the yolk mixed thoroughly with all of the rice in the pan.
“Do you like it runny or crispy?”
“Whatever you prefer, gege.”
Xie Lian shook his head, smiling but he knew he wouldn’t get another answer out of him, so he allowed the rice to crisp around the edges before lowering the heat. The sesame oil filled his nostrils, and after a moment’s hesitation he took a leap, raiding Hua Cheng’s spice rack to add a healthy dose of cinnamon and garlic. The rice took on a more orange complexion reminiscent of a sunset - or sunrise, since this was breakfast after all - and he smiled secretively to himself. Hopefully Hua Cheng would enjoy his surprise.
“Coffee’s done,” Hua Cheng said from somewhere behind Xie Lian, and Xie Lian hummed as he began to plate up the rice, the same giddiness from the night before bubbling in his chest. It wasn’t that Hua Cheng reminded him of his mother, exactly - cooking with her had always been a disaster that ended in tears more often than not - but the sensation of knowing what was needed and being able to provide it gave Xie Lian a peace he hadn’t felt in years. He couldn’t believe his luck in encountering Hua Cheng almost exactly when he needed him; it was the least he could do to make sure he didn’t take him for granted.
“Thank you,” Xie Lian said as they took their seats at the breakfast bar. Xie Lian’s was a little taller than expected and they let out a soft ‘oof’ when their leg over-extends to reach it. Hua Cheng rushed to lower the seat and Xie Lian flashed him a smile, leaning for just a second into Hua Cheng’s bicep. “For last night - this - for everything else…”
“If you say that every time we meet it will get tiresome for you,” Hua Cheng pointed out. “Besides, I could have been a better host - I should have taken you to bed. Are you hurting?”
“No more than usual,” Xie Lian answered, a carefully practiced reply, and Hua Cheng levels him with a one-eyed stare that could topple skyscrapers. “I mean it. Better, maybe. Your couch is so comfy.”
“Then you need a new mattress,” Hua Cheng said, scooping the rice into his mouth. Xie Lian watched, suddenly anxious as his face went through a myriad of expressions. “Did you add something to the rice?”
“My mother always said to put a little of yourself in your cooking,” Xie Lian told him timidly.
“It’s delicious,” Hua Cheng said, smiling happily as he dug into to the bowl. Xie Lian felt the urge to go on social media for the first time since the scandal, just to say that Hua Cheng liked his cooking. “I’m so lucky to get to eat a piece of Xie Lian himself.”
“Ah..!” Xie Lian blushed brightly, noting the amused twinkle in Hua Cheng’s eye. What a ridiculous thing for him to say - no wonder he’s being laughed at. “Since you started it, I’m eating some of you as well, haha…”
Xie Lian’s awkward laughter soon turned into alarm, and then more genuine laughter again when Hua Cheng choked, spitting rice all over the surface and counter. He beat his chest twice, looking at Xie Lian with a red face and wide eye.
“Gege…!”
“I can tease you back,” Xie Lian announced with pride, and Hua Cheng shook his head, smiling wide enough to show his teeth. Hua Cheng rarely showed his teeth in photoshoots, but they were beautiful. So straight and white, with canines that promised mischief. Xie Lian was lucky to see them.
“Don’t tell anyone. My agent says I have to uphold my icy reputation.”
Xie Lian’s smile faltered.
“Ah...yes. And how is...how will we affect that?”
Hua Cheng shrugged. “I don’t care too much about that. If we’re photographed looking intimate, or I behave differently, it just means that you’re special. If my agent gets mad I’ll agree to a few extra appearances and she’ll be appeased, since she gets a cut.”
“Even though it’s me?”
“Remember why we decided to do this, Xie Lian,” Hua Cheng said. His posture was relaxed, the blush faded from his cheeks, and honeyed confidence dripped from his tongue. “My popularity is strong enough to save yours - it’s strong enough that it won’t be pulled down.”
Coming from anyone else, Xie Lian might have thought the statement arrogant. From Hua Cheng though it seemed as natural and true as any other fact about the world. The ice caps were melting; a finite point is absurd without an infinite reference; Hua Cheng was going to save Xie Lian's reputation.
Hua Cheng was going to save Xie Lian.
Xie Lian lingered for a little longer than breakfast required, taking his time over the food and insisting on helping with the washing up. A part of it was fuelled by gratitude, of course, but mostly when he had found his plate empty he simply did not want to leave. Hua Cheng’s house was warm, the heating was always on, and though the mess might have made him anxious in his own apartment he was charmed by it at Hua Cheng’s. He acted careless with his belongings, dropping them where they fell, but he kept a great many things that others wouldn’t have held onto. It spoke of a secret, sentimental side to him that Xie Lian wanted to soak up for as long as possible.
When he finally left it was with a spring in his step - metaphorical, as he leaned on the cane more heavily than usual, since even a more comfortable sleeping space was an unfamiliar one. He was lost in his thoughts and Hua Cheng’s fussy presence at his side.
“Bad leg down to hell…” He muttered when he reached the steps at the bottom of the path. Hua Cheng stood at the arm that wasn’t holding his cane, ready to support his elbow, and looked at him querying. “My mother taught me the phrase...she had the same condition as me, and showed me how to use a cane before I even needed one. Mostly because I wanted to be involved, haha, it was a novelty back then... You ascend ‘to heaven’ with your good side, and down ‘to hell’ with your bad side, see? Though my good side changes from day to day, so I still get it wrong sometimes, even if I remember.”
Hua Cheng had probably never needed to use a cane in his life, and his physique was such that Xie Lian doubted he ever would, but he listened attentively, watching as Xie Lian stepped down with interest. He squeezed Xie Lian’s elbow when the impact went through Xie Lian’s shin as if he felt it himself.
“Fascinating,” he commented. Xie Lian flushed, expecting the comment to be sarcastic, but found nothing but sincerity in Hua Cheng’s expression, even in his glass eye, half hidden by his hair as he bent close to Xie Lian, nose to his forehead.
His good eye angled away from the road, Hua Cheng didn’t notice the flash at first, but Xie Lian did immediately, whipping his head around fast enough to jam the nerve. He yelled and Hua Cheng bent over him further, worried by the way he clutched his neck in pain, but all Xie Lian could focus on was the light across the road, and the three cameras poorly hidden behind the street lamp.
“Oh no..San Lang!” Xie Lian released his neck for long enough to point. It seemed an age before Hua Cheng dragged his gaze away from Xie Lian towards the press. He scowled, stepping in front of Xie Lian protectively, and Xie Lian could only imagine how much worse that must look.
“I’ll have Yin Yu bring the car around,” Hua Cheng said, and Xie Lian waved frantically, patting his arm.
“No, no! I should get the bus… Even if we want them to think that we’re...there’s still your honour to think about, isn’t there?”
“My honour?” Hua Cheng’s eyebrows reached his hairline. His lip curled into a smile and Xie Lian hid his face, unable to bear his amusement right now.
“This could look - so intense…! What if they - oh, San Lang, this is bad.”
The longer they stood there, the more pictures the paparazzi could take, but Xie Lian was frozen in place, fumbling for words - action - anything. If people thought that Xie Lian had seduced Hua Cheng there would be no end to the gossip. Such a conclusion seemed far beyond reason to Xie Lian - even after brushing his hair he looked a mess, and he couldn’t help but pull his cane closer to his side in the hopes that it would blend into his body, an extension of himself the way he always imagined it to be. More than ever he was aware of the faded white of his cardigan; the holes in the elbows; the way his trousers were too long at the ankles, a result of being cast-offs from Pei Ming.
“It’s okay, gege,” Hua Cheng spoke softly. His voice penetrated Xie Lian’s cotton-ball thoughts like a needle, pulling him by a fine thread towards the light. “We can take a few days to cool off if you like. That should minimise the attention of you. But I’m really not worried about what they think of me. I’m proud to be seen with you.”
Xie Lian stood frozen, his fingers locked and trembling on the handle of his cane, thumb pressing against its edge to push the cold wood until it began to hurt, grounding himself. Hua Cheng always spoke so casually, and yet his words shattered Xie Lian’s spirit into confetti; he didn’t know how he was supposed to gather himself and the thousand giddy butterflies he had become.
He laughed; it was all Xie Lian could do to laugh.
“You’re such a fool, Hua Cheng,” he said, reaching up to cup Hua Cheng’s cheek and then thinking better of it when he remembered the cameras. “I hope you don’t end up paying for it.”
“If I do I’d gladly pay it.”
“Stop! That’s too romantic. I’ll get the bus home and I’ll text you, okay? We’ll see each other soon.”
“Okay,” Hua Cheng spoke softly, his eye lidded as if Xie Lian were the lead in one of his romance movies - the ones he said he hated, but he seemed made for, since he fell into the part so easily. “As long as it’s soon.”
“It will be,” Xie Lian promised, and then because the atmosphere felt thick enough to clog his throat, he pinched Hua Cheng’s cheeks. “Bye, San Lang!”
None of the paparazzi followed him onto the bus, and no one recognised him when he stood in the corner, his eyes flickering absently across the view. Perhaps Hua Cheng was right, and he was enough of a nobody that he could be saved by a genuine star.
*
Hua Cheng’s messages were far more frequent than a celebrity’s should be. Xie Lian had thought he might have better things to do, but somehow he finds the time between meetings with his agent, magazine interviews and preparation for his latest project to send selfies and short notes. Xie Lian answered each one with a few paragraphs of his own day, and tried to find interesting things to snap photographs of. It made him laugh when Hua Cheng complained about missing his face, but Xie Lian could only bring himself to send a few selfies; he wasn’t camera shy, but staring at himself on the screen for too long was jarring - especially when Hua Cheng’s selfies looked like they had been taken by a professional.
[ Will you let me photograph you then gege? Since you’re a fan of my skills ]
[ If you want to, but there’s a lot of better subject matter out there. What about cats? ]
[ I’d rather have you any day. ]
[ That's just because you haven't had a cat.]
The chimes of Xie Lian’s WeChat became a welcome break from emails about his cousin and mass reporting of his own tencent account; he made sure to change the ringtone so that he knew when he could look forward to opening his phone.
Evidence of his overnight stay at Hua Cheng’s manor spread even faster than he could have anticipated; the photographs flooded the internet in a matter of hours, and though Xie Lian’s face was always obscured by some part of Hua Cheng’s protective posture, he was identified at once. Though he had planned to keep himself busy with work during their ‘cool off’ period, by the first afternoon he had received a call from Ling Wen insisting that he take several days of annual leave.
“But my classes - “ Xie Lian began, and she cut him off with a devastating click of her tongue.
“Your classes will be mobbed by paparazzi eager to exploit your scandal. Is that what you want?” she asked, not bothering to wait for a response. “Relax. Gossip moves on quickly and the university just needs a few days to decide on security measures. I promise you, by Friday you’ll be able to teach again - just in time to give your students weekend reading. We need to protect the institution.”
“You mean the students,” Xie Lian said. Ling Wen hummed.
“I’ll take that as your agreement; I’m approving your request as we speak. Don’t forget to take it out of your annual leave allowance.”
House arrest was not the worst situation for Xie Lian to be in; he had a few proposals that needed refinement anyway. Shi Qingxuan agreed to manage his office hours and he set himself up with a pile of work that would inevitably be ignored as he found better distractions.
Between Hua Cheng’s messages and negotiating with his cousin’s lawyers - Qi Rong was out of jail now, at least, but he owed an awful lot of money to organisations Xie Lian neither knew nor trusted - he took it upon himself to do over his house. Insufficiently fed by the vase Xie Lian had crammed them into, Hua Cheng’s flowers had already begun to wilt, petals wrinkling sadly on the coffee table. His search for an alternative solution resulted in a rising sense of humiliation: though he had far fewer belongings to leave strewn about his rooms, his visit to Hua Cheng’s had left him hyper aware of every crack in his walls; every half-mended piece of furniture or accessibility project borne of too many tencent DIY tutorials.
Xie Lian could never let Hua Cheng fall asleep here. Hua Cheng probably wouldn’t be able to relax enough in this ramshackle home to do so anyway. Xie Lian’s house was all too reflective of his body, and where he couldn’t fix one he was fixated on the idea that he could at least try to work on the other.
He separated the flowers into segments, discarding the worst victims of his carelessness, pressing some and distributing the others in glasses and old jars around the house, thankful he had held onto them for a rainy day. He took pictures each time he found a home for them, sending them to Hua Cheng without expecting a reply. Hua Cheng responded to each one.
[ The lighting is good here ]
[ What a nice way to brighten up a small room ]
[ Are you making sure there is some of me all through your house, gege? ]
Xie Lian blushed and laughed though there was no one there to see him, keeping Hua Cheng updated as he progressed throughout the days. He was most proud of his meditation area, where he had taken the red and white flowers from the bouquet and his worn-out kneeling cushion and made an environment he felt he could truly relax in. For once, meditation came as easily to him as it had become before his past had been dragged back out into the light, and he almost didn’t notice when Shi Qingxuan banged on his door two days into his isolation, too focused on the lengths of his breaths and the scent of red camellia.
“...Lian! Xie Lian, I know you’re there! You don’t have a life and if you were with Hua Cheng it would be on Weibo!”
Shi Qingxuan was still yelling when Xie Lian got to the door, and she fell forwards as it opened, too eager to get inside. She leaned on Xie Lian’s shoulder to take her heels off, not noticing his sharp intake of breath or the way he braced himself against the wall.
“Xie Lian, I know you’ve probably been avoiding the news outlets - and it’s for the best, honestly, they’re a cesspit but I can’t stay away - so I knew I had to come over here myself to show you this! I brought chocolate, too, and non-alcoholic wine. Let’s have a girls’ night.”
She brandished a carrier bag and Xie Lian smiled through the pain; Shi Qingxuan could be called unobservant, but never inconsiderate. He stepped aside, allowing her to make herself at home, and she did with ease. She had never compared Xie Lian’s modest home to the mansion she lived with her brother in, and Xie Lian had never felt ashamed with her; at least, not about this.
“Hua Cheng did an interview recently - this is the first one that’s aired since the photos were released. He talks about you!”
“He...what?” Xie Lian asked. Somehow he had expected that Hua Cheng wouldn’t acknowledge him publicly; after all, he had said that he wasn’t allowed to be explicit about dating.
“Well, he doesn’t say your name or anything, but it’s so obvious, I knew right away and everyone else will too, even if they don’t know you personally. I always thought he was a cool-headed heartthrob, you know, but he’s actually...well, just watch it, you’ll see what I mean.”
Shi Qingxuan pushed Xie Lian towards the couch, unbothered by the way the seats dipped and forced them into one another’s laps as she pressed her phone into Xie Lian’s hands. The video was already up: Hua Cheng was dressed impeccably in a red turtleneck, sitting isolated with a poster of his latest film as the backdrop. The interviewer leaned in over her crossed legs with a microphone, and Hua Cheng seamlessly leaned away.
“Everybody’s already wondering what your next project will be, Hua Cheng. When will you announce it? You haven’t taken a break in films before.”
“Well, perhaps it’s about time,” Hua Cheng responded. His smile was faker than anything Xie Lian had ever seen on him before; Xie Lian wondered why he didn’t even try to hide it, as there was no doubt that he could act if he wanted to. “I’ve been so busy for many years, and right now I have a lot of good things in my life that I would like to stop and enjoy.”
“Your fans will miss you.”
“My fans can wait,” Hua Cheng quipped back, unforgiving. Xie Lian watched the interviewer purse her lips and suck her teeth, no doubt frustrated that he wasn’t giving her more to work with.
“Do these ‘good things’ have anything to do with the fallen tencent star you’ve been seen with in recent days?”
It was the minutest change in his posture - just enough release of tension to show one dimple beside his smile - but suddenly Hua Cheng seemed genuine. He lit up at the hint of Xie Lian, and Xie Lian flushed, wiping his thumb over the screen to clear a smudge, inadvertently stroking Hua Cheng’s small cheek. He wouldn’t turn on his acting skills to promote his film, but when it came to selling Xie Lian’s lie, he was devoted. Xie Lian couldn’t ask for a better friend.
“They might,” Hua Cheng said. “For my sake and theirs, you’ll understand why I don’t say more.”
“For your sake it might be better if you do,” the interviewer persisted, on the edge of her seat now, and Hua Cheng angled himself deliberately away. Xie Lian wanted to step between them - to ease some of the discomfort that lined Hua Cheng’s shoulders. But he wasn’t there, and he would only make things worse if he was; the way she smiled predatorily at Hua Cheng made his fists ache. “A lot of your fans are concerned that liaising with this person can only hurt your career. What drives you to associate with someone who has such a past? It shouldn’t be taken lightly that he -”
Hua Cheng cut her off before the bile had finished rising in Xie Lian’s throat.
“I remember similar gossip about my own past when I got my first role, and my fans defended me valiantly. They didn’t care about the harm I had done in the past, only what I wanted to do with my future, and that I was dedicated to my role and brought joy through it. Since my fans have been so good to me, I hope that they will extend the same courtesy and compassion to the people I surround myself with; the people who bring me enough joy to continue doing the work I do. If they can’t...then I don’t think they are qualified to call themselves my fans.”
The interviewer laughed nervously, and Xie Lian could only presume the interview ended there, because the phone was ripped from his hands as he stared at it, breath high and tight in his chest. Shi Qingxuan cooed at his side, nudging him with her elbow like they were privy to a huge secret.
“Did you hear that? The way he talked about you? I knew you’d want to see this so I rushed right over. The forums are full of speculation and fans are having an all out war!”
“Oh...really?” Xie Lian said weakly. “That sounds - terrible.”
“Fans are always warring over something, they’ll get over it,” Shi Qingxuan said dismissively. “But you see what this means, right?”
“I...what does it mean? It’s nothing new. I knew he would talk about me. Though he was very kind…”
“Xie Lian! Don’t you think it was a little too sincere?”
“Of course. That’s what makes Hua Cheng such a good actor,” Xie Lian responded. He could hear the pride that laced his own voice, foolish considering he had nothing to do with Hua Cheng’s achievements. “He injects a little of himself into what he sells. I...I really am glad that he sees me that way. That he cares more about my future than my past.”
“You...you’re hopeless,” Shi Qingxuan muttered, shaking her head when Xie Lian looked at her enquireingly. She wrapped an arm around Xie Lian’s shoulders, squeezing him tight. “And too harsh on yourself. One mistake - one horrible mistake, sure, but just one - doesn’t eclipse the world of good you do for everyone around you.”
“I haven’t done good for anyone in a long time,” Xie Lian replied and Shi Qinxuan scoffed.
“You keep saying that and I’ll have to risk Hua Cheng’s wrath by beating you up,” she teased. “No, you heard it from him, and you’ve heard it from me a million times. You’re doing enough. If the internet can’t forgive you I’ll do it over and over, enough for every comment you’ve received.”
“That will take your whole life.”
“Then it’s a good thing I got you that best friends forever charm bracelet, hm? We’ve got all the time in the world - unless Hua Cheng steals you away.”
“ You’re ridiculous. Do you want soup? I made a lot yesterday.”
“God, no. You keep that poison to yourself.”