Chapter Text
Xie Lian woke up in what was clearly Hua Cheng’s bed, in Hua Cheng’s room, and yet he was alone.
He chastised himself for feeling a smidge of disappointment. Of course he’d be alone. He was being given his privacy. What had he been expecting, his ex from ten years ago holding his hand tightly with a distraught expression on his (very handsome, like even more handsome than ten years ago) face, waiting and waiting for Xie Lian to simply open his eyes as though Xie Lian were Sleeping Beauty? Serving him breakfast in bed, with his coffee just the way he liked it? Offering to cuddle, for old times’ sake?
Of course not. Not at all. That would be ridiculous. Xie Lian did not want those things at all, because, again, it had been ten years, and he had gotten over Hua Cheng a very, very long time ago.
On second thought, it really was good that Xie Lian was alone, and no, he wasn’t trying to fool himself anymore. He hadn’t been alone in about two weeks now, not since he’d gotten the call from the police precinct saying Qi Rong was on the line. For the first time since Xie Lian had given up his studio apartment (broom closet), his career (thankless dead-end job with no pay that really amounted to holding people’s hands while they waited to be deported), his hobbies (collecting litter; the reading group), and his life (nonexistent) –– for the first time since he’d impulsively loaded up his beat-up car and decided to drive himself, his pet snake, and Qi Rong (his second pet snake) as far west as he could possibly go, Xie Lian had the time and the space to think.
Xie Lian wondered if he even knew what ‘thinking’ was anymore.
He buried his face into the bed sheets and groaned. If only he could just stay here, and forget all his responsibilities. What had he gotten himself into? Why had his first instinct been just run away, it’ll be like the movies? There hadn’t even been any exciting car chases yet. Just picking up a hitchhiker –– an eighteen-year-old mixed girl with an afro who, it had later turned out, was also running from the cops for a series of minor infractions –– having the hitchhiker decide to just stay with them for some reason, and then driving, and buying junk food, and sleeping in the car in dark parking lots, and playing the Synonym Game all by himself because the two brats Xie Lian had saved out of the kindness of his heart thought that he was an old fart and didn’t even want to humor him.
Kids these days. They probably didn’t even know any synonyms to begin with.
And now they were here. At a commune. Which was run by Hua Cheng. Xie Lian could only assume that ‘running’ the commune meant being its yearly elected committee secretary responsible for keeping track of the commune’s official email account. That’s how he would’ve designed it, had designed it, when he’d been young and naïve and had dreamt of –– well, of this. But at the same time, Banyue had referred to Hua Cheng as the commune guy, so maybe Hua Cheng’s commune’s bureaucratic and governmental system had turned out different. Maybe he was, like, tyrannical.
Hua Cheng would make a good tyrant, to be fair. He had the flair for it. Or at least, this was the case for the Hua Cheng that Xie Lian used to know.
It was weird, to think of Hua Cheng as ‘used to’, now that they’d met again in the most unlikely of situations; it was odd because even though Hua Cheng wasn’t in front of him right now, Xie Lian could feel his presence in the room. The cluttered walls heaving with prints and postcards and posters; the wardrobe with a door hanging ajar bursting with clothes (Xie Lian wondered if there were more overalls in there); the vanity with the ring tray and the neatly-arranged jewellery; the desk with the books lined along the wall and the open sketchbook… It was almost exactly how Hua Cheng’s university dorm had looked, all those years ago. With the addition of Ruoye’s cage, balanced carefully at the foot of the bed, the snake dozing for now; proof of room made for Xie Lian in Hua Cheng’s routine.
With a jolt, Xie Lian realised just how much of Hua Cheng was laid out right here for him to see –– and just how much of it was the same. But that was weird, right? That things were the same. They weren’t supposed to be. Certainly Xie Lian had changed in the past ten years. He was no longer an idealist. Well, Xie Lian supposed, he actually still was, or even more so; his beliefs had only become more concrete, more tangible, as he’d grown older.
Okay, so Xie Lian hadn’t really changed. And Hua Cheng… hadn’t either? He was still incredibly hot, as Xie Lian had noted back at the car, and he hadn’t somehow turned into an asshole, as evidenced by his hospitality, and he’d also been doing quite well for himself here on the commune. There were also no photos of him in the room with someone who might be a partner or spouse, so he was still… available. As though things could maybe just go back to the way they’d been. And that was really weird, right? That things could be the same again; that the possibility was there..
But the Hua Cheng that Xie Lian used to know hadn’t been a communist –– had, in fact, had a brief but powerful ‘Bill Gates was a college dropout and a real #hustler’ phase and had needed several ‘please don’t also drop out as you are not Bill Gates, do not have generational wealth or connections, and will never be a billionaire’ interventions –– so that was one glaring thing, one difference. But this new development only made Hua Cheng even better, and dammit, Xie Lian was supposed to have gotten over him ten years ago! What was wrong with Xie Lian, fundamentally? Why was he still in love with his ex after all this time? Why was he like this, as a person? Did the universe have a personal vendetta against him? What did he have to do to get to be normal?
And then the door creaked open, and Xie Lian breathed an involuntary, “Thank god,” because those ten minutes he’d spent alone with his own thoughts had not ended up going well. Another deep-seated issue that he needed to figure out at some point, probably.
Hua Cheng’s face bloomed into a smile as soon as he saw Xie Lian, and, as Xie Lian’s stomach lurched again, he really did have to tell himself that, yes, he was in real trouble.
“Gege is finally awake,” Hua Cheng said in that slightly higher-pitched voice that he always only used to use with Xie Lian, when he wanted Xie Lian to find him cute and to pinch his cheeks. Ugh.
“Sorry about that,” Xie Lian replied, sitting up in bed and hoping he looked ill enough to convince Hua Cheng to come in and… yeah, sit and hold his hand and look distraught for five minutes. “Did I miss breakfast?” And bring him breakfast in bed, maybe. “We should probably get back on the road.” But maybe Hua Cheng would offer to cuddle first.
Hua Cheng frowned and seemed to hesitate before saying, “You were actually out for more than twenty-four hours. But lunch is soon.”
“Ah.” Xie Lian nodded slowly. “That’s nice,” he added, because he wasn’t sure what else to say to that. In truth, he wasn’t really surprised that he’d somehow been unconscious for so long, because he’d hardly gotten any sleep in the past few days and had definitely never been in a driving state to begin with.
Hua Cheng always used to hate it when he stayed up too late, or didn’t eat enough, or did anything even slightly detrimental to his health –– and he looked slightly disappointed even now. It pained Xie Lian to make Hua Cheng disappointed, so he did his best to look healed, which really just meant flashing two thumbs up in a rather unconvincing manner.
Seeing this, Hua Cheng’s gaze softened for a few moments, then he strode forward and leant into Xie Lian’s space and pressed a tender kiss to Xie Lian’s sweaty forehead, which was –– great, and fine, and certainly did not remind Xie Lian of that time he’d gotten bronchitis from refusing to turn on the heating over the winter break and had subsequently needed Hua Cheng to serve him hand and foot for a week straight.
Synonyms for nervous: anxious; scared; terrified; dying… No, this was not #positive #thinking! Don’t spiral, don’t spiral, Xie Lian told himself. He’d already embarrassed himself enough with the whole ‘throwing up’ thing.
And it seemed Hua Cheng could detect the faint, constant vibration of sheer panic in Xie Lian because he finally pulled away and said, “How does gege feel about a tour?” in a chipper voice.
A tour –– yes, good. Xie Lian liked tours, where you were told where to go and what to look at and what to think about the things you saw. After the tour, he promised himself, he’d be normal, and say normal things, and then take his leave.
All things considered, Hua Cheng seemed to be taking things pretty well. He even seemed glad to see Xie Lian, which Xie Lian couldn’t –– didn’t want to –– think too much about. Still, Xie Lian couldn’t overstay his welcome.
Xie Lian climbed out of bed and looked down, noticing for the first time that he seemed to be wearing Hua Cheng’s clothes –– a too-big T-shirt and basketball shorts, which went past his knees and were likely the only bottoms that fit him.
Hua Cheng winced, looking, for the first time since this whole surreal experience had begun, slightly awkward himself. “Yeah, sorry. We do the laundry by hand here and it hasn’t dried yet.” Then, eyes widening, he added, “But I didn’t –– see –– I wasn’t the one who ––“
“Oh, that’s fine,” Xie Lian squeaked, feeling guilty for making Hua Cheng feel uncomfortable in his own home. He needed to make things light hearted again, show Hua Cheng that everything was right-o. “Nothing you haven’t seen before, right?”
Hua Cheng pursed his lips. “Right. Okay.” Began to wring his hands.
So the joke didn’t land. That was fine, of course, and not awkward at all.
“Okay,” Xie Lian replied. “Speaking of,” (despite the fact that they had not, in fact, been speaking of,) “where are the others? I hope they weren’t too much trouble.” He didn’t even want to begin imagining the results of setting Qi Rong and Banyue loose on a farm without any proper supervision.
“Actually, Banyue is fitting right in,” Hua Cheng replied, visibly relaxed once more as he led Xie Lian out of the room and into the hallway lined with countless other doors –– this seemed to be the large house that Xie Lian had previously seen from the car, where perhaps all the commune members lived. Hua Cheng continued, drawing Xie Lian out of his thoughts: “Apparently she follows us on Twitter. She immediately wanted to help with everything. She was quite excited.”
“Huh,” was all Xie Lian had to say to that. He hadn’t exactly pegged Banyue as that kind of person, but ‘cottagecore’ was apparently a thing with the youth lately.
They walked slowly down the stairs and into a large common area, where a couple of people were busying away at the open-plan kitchen. Xie Lian waved at them, and they waved back, and wow. Xie Lian had spent so long living in the bustling city that he’d forgotten how it felt to have strangers treat him like a human being instead of some subway rat or speck of lint. Maybe it was a sign of a lack of dignity that just being cheerfully acknowledged by these two commune members was genuinely making Xie Lian’s day, but Xie Lian had never had that much dignity, so that was that.
So this was the kind of world Hua Cheng had been living in for some time now. Which made Xie Lian feel oddly proud of his S–– of Hua Cheng.
Ugh. Be normal, Xie Lian told himself. You could start with paying attention to what he’s saying.
“––where gege found that girl, because she definitely has a mysterious past she isn’t talking about, but don’t we all?” Hua Cheng was saying when Xie Lian tuned back.
“And Qi Rong…?” Xie Lian tentatively asked.
“Oh, the murderer? He tried to steal your car and leave, but I figured I should at least wait for you to wake up so that the two of you can talk it out,” Hua Cheng said nonchalantly. “Yin Yu is babysitting him right now.” He pushed open the door and invited Xie Lian to step outside into the fresh air and bright late-morning sun, then shot Xie Lian an amused look and said, “Is that guy really your cousin? I’d never heard of him before.”
“Yeah,” Xie Lian sighed. He’d already been cut off from his family by the time he’d gone to university, so he’d never told anyone much about his parents, let alone Qi Rong. Xie Lian should’ve felt a twinge of shame that Hua Cheng was catching him out on something now, but instead he was relieved to finally be able to confide in someone that he trusted. “I don’t… He’s not my favorite cousin. He’d never really fit in with his peers, even as a kid. Maybe I should’ve looked out for him more, I don’t know.”
“So when you found out he’d killed someone, you were just like, ‘I got you’?”
Xie Lian shrugged. “I guess? He says it was self-defense. In any case, no one deserves to disappear into the jail system. So when he called, I made a decision.”
“The decision being to come here and find me,” Hua Cheng said, grinning.
Oh no, did Hua Cheng think that Xie Lian was some kind of –– weird stalker who was still in love with his university ex? Well, the last part was true, but –– but––
“No!” Xie Lian said in perhaps too loud a voice. “This was a coincidence, I promise! I had no idea you’d be here.”
Hua Cheng patted the top of Xie Lian’s head and snorted. “Relax, gege. I’m just kidding. Although it would make me very happy if you’d really come all the way here for me.”
Why was it so easy for Hua Cheng to slip back into gege this and gege that? Xie Lian could feel his face heat up again at the thought of them being so immediately familiar with one another after this long. Yes, he’d automatically said San Lang when they’d first met again, but now it felt inappropriate to use such a diminutive, and he kept having to actively force himself not to call Hua Cheng that. Even if it did seem as though Hua Cheng wanted it to be the case.
Maybe Hua Cheng also –– Ah, never mind. Stop that thought right there.
Xie Lian looked out at the little farm around him and breathed in the breeze and thought: sun; sunny; bright; glow; serene. The synonyms helped. Finally, he met Hua Cheng’s eyes and nodded, signalling that he was ready for the tour.
By tour, it turned out Hua Cheng had meant strolling arm in arm at a leisurely pace and admiring the beauty of things in silence. Not that Hua Cheng needed to explain anything, really –– all of the commune, from the colourful chicken coop to the large vegetable patch, via the excited dog and the lines of laundry floundering lightly in the wind, was wrapped up in a sense of familiarity and comfort. Xie Lian began to feel the very opposite of how he’d felt on the day they’d arrived –– he was so soothed that he thought he might simply fall asleep at any moment, so cocooned he was in this pastoral bliss.
Everything about this farm was exactly how Xie Lian had onced described it to Hua Cheng, the two of them laying side by side after a filling picnic on a sunny day in the park –– Xie Lian’s dream, living on a commune. The commune truck was even red, which Xie Lian had tossed out as a throwaway detail at the time but which, in fact, had been rather important to him –– secretly, he’d always wanted the commune truck to be red, like the vehicles of the firemen that Xie Lian had so admired as a child. And Hua Cheng had remembered this, and made the truck red.
Or it was some coincidence on top of all the other coincidences.
It was probably a coincidence. Because otherwise –– well.
And Xie Lian discovered that the commune’s name was Ghost City. Hua Cheng shrugged when he told Xie Lian this, and said he’d used it as a placeholder at first but that it had stuck. After all, the dozen people that lived here really were ghosts, in a way –– had all moved here to escape something else, just as Xie Lian was doing now.
Hua Cheng said that he had bought the land for relatively cheap from the previous owners not long after graduating from university (he skirted the topic of how he’d managed to come into enough money to be able to afford this), and had immediately set about building the big house and sowing the seeds for the vegetable garden. The other ghosts had trickled into the commune in groups of ones and twos –– everyone mostly kept to themselves, and many maintained remote full-time jobs, but they shared meals together, and the atmosphere was one of peace.
(“Yin Yu was a lot of help, at the beginning. Things got really good after he joined us,” Hua Cheng noted. “Good old Yin Yu.”
“Sorry,” Xie Lian cut in. “You keep saying Yin Yu as though I’m meant to know who that is. I feel like I missed something.”
Hua Cheng gave Xie Lian an odd look. “My roommate from uni? You guys met several times, I’m sure.”
“Oh,” Xie Lian said. “I don’t remember that guy at all.” Or maybe he did. There had been a roommate, in the first year of his relationship with Hua Cheng, and Xie Lian had probably had a few conversations with the roommate… But what had he looked like? He’d basically been a blank face hovering around, helping out with one of the interventions at one point. Ah, there was no point in trying to recall him anymore.)
Anyway, it had been about four years now, and the commune was doing very well for itself, Hua Cheng explained cheerfully. It was almost fully self-sustained, and anything they didn’t have, they bartered for at the weekly farmer’s market in the closest town. It was good for the long-term, and Hua Cheng really saw himself living the rest of his days here, painting and reading. With a flourish, Hua Cheng pushed open the garbage shed to show Xie Lian the meticulous system to sort recycling that he’d designed, and Xie Lian had to try hard not to swoon.
Hua Cheng’s life seemed so fulfilling; so accomplished, compared to the years Xie Lian had spent slogging meaninglessly at the immigration courts. If only Xie Lian had come here years ago, or had helped Hua Cheng to found the commune in the first place…
“You’re awake, captain!” Banyue shouted as she ran toward them out of nowhere and tackled Xie Lian into a hug. Hua Cheng raised an eyebrow at this, and all Xie Lian could do was shrug, because Banyue had never been this affectionate before –– again, they were very much strangers.
“Banyue, I hope you haven’t been bothering S–– Hua Cheng here,” Xie Lian said weakly. “He’s very kind to let us stay.”
“Oh, I’m a member of the commune as of this morning,” Banyue replied with a smirk, twirling one of her curls around her finger. “Unanimous vote, baby.” Then she punched Xie Lian in the arm. (It hurt, a lot, but Xie Lian succeeded in not flinching.) “Thanks for the help, captain. I can’t believe you never told me you knew the commune guy. We could’ve come straight here instead of driving around aimlessly for days.”
“The commune guy has a name,” Hua Cheng scolded lightly, but his face was one of delight. He saluted Banyue as she ran off again to do –– whatever it was that the commune members did all day. Frolic; do work for no reason other than pleasure in the act of labor itself; be merry; plot the revolution.
“So you’re a communist now,” Xie Lian teased as the two of them leant over a wooden fence and watched Banyue hop around helping two of the more elderly commune members weed a patch of the garden.
“No,” Hua Cheng said, and then scrunched up his face as though in deep thought. “Well, maybe. Kind of?”
That made Xie Lian giggle. “You’re not a communist, but you built a commune using your bare hands? Why would you do that?”
Hua Cheng gazed at Xie Lian with that complex expression on his face again, and said nothing.
Oh no. Had Xie Lian said something to offend him? “But –– it’s a great commune,” Xie Lian added quickly. “Like, perfect, actually.”
A smile tugged at Hua Cheng’s lips again. “Does gege really like it?”
“Yeah,” Xie Lian breathed. “It’s exactly how I used to imagine it.”
“Gege can stay as long as he wants,” Hua Cheng replied softly.
Xie Lian’s immediate reaction was to say, Oh, I couldn’t possibly impose, but the words died in his throat when he noticed the way Hua Cheng’s brows were furrowed, the serious look to his eye. Hua Cheng really meant what he’d said.
And there it was again –– that feeling of safety, of stability, that Hua Cheng had always given him back when they’d weathered the chaos of undergrad side by side, hand in hand. Hua Cheng had always been there for him, back then; had been the one to offer to try long distance, had told Xie Lian he’d wait, had insisted it wasn’t an empty promise. And look at Hua Cheng now –– living a dream Xie Lian could so easily see himself slotting into.
“Oh, San Lang,” Xie Lian said. He couldn’t help but reach out to cup Hua Cheng’s face, running his thumb along the ridge of Hua Cheng’s jawline. Why did we ever…? But Xie Lian blinked that thought away. “I might take you up on that, actually.”
It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go. He really didn’t know what he’d been planning to do after this, and here someone was giving him an easy, rather plausible option. He’d be mad not to take it. Besides––
Hua Cheng tilted his head, leant into Xie Lian’s palm. His hand grasped Xie Lian’s wrist ever so lightly. “Please do.”
Hua Cheng’s cheek burned against Xie Lian’s hand like a brand, and Xie Lian felt something rush into his veins and his lungs, something that pressed into him even as it strained to get out; something that was too much and demanded more. More words surged forth into Xie Lian’s chest: Why did we ever…? Do you still…? He could say them, couldn’t he? He wasn’t being delusional. There was something here for him. Xie Lian opened his mouth. “San Lang––“
Xie Lian was interrupted by screaming, which was probably for the best, because he’d been about to embarrass himself quite badly. The screams were nonsensical syllables at first, but quickly resolved themselves into words that sounded very much like “Qi Rong–––––––!!!” which, in turn, sounded like something Xie Lian should begin to pay attention to. Grimacing, Xie Lian tore his hand away and dropped it to his side, just in time to see a commune member run over to where he and Hua Cheng stood.
“Oh, Xie Lian,” the commune member said as he caught his breath. “Long time no see.”
Xie Lian was sure he’d never seen this person in his life. How did the commune member know his name? Thankfully, Hua Cheng rescued him by saying, “Yin Yu, what’s wrong?”
(At this point Xie Lian should have felt a flood of recognition as the face of this former friend of his clicked in his mind, but he did not. Instead, he smiled and said, “It’s been a while,” and hoped that that was enough. Sorry, but Yin Yu just too forgettable. He just had one of those faces.)
“Xie Lian, it’s your cousin, Qi Rong,” Yin Yu said. His voice was calm, but his entire body was shaking. “Would it be alright if you came to see him? He thinks we kidnapped you, and is threatening to destroy the commune unless we give him your body. Or at least that’s what I assume he’s trying to say, through the growls.”
What Qi Rong would want to do with Xie Lian’s body was a whole other question that Xie Lian was not going to get into right now. “Yes, of course,” Xie Lian said. “Let’s hurry.”
When they got to the scene of the commotion, they saw that the chicken coop’s doors were wide open and the chickens were flapping around in a panic, attempting to peck at the eggs that had rolled all across the ground. Next to the chickens, Qi Rong was hollering at the top of his lungs, his kicking feet and swinging arms being restrained by several commune members.
“Please unhand him!” Xie Lian said, horrified when he saw what was occurring. He knew that the last thing Qi Rong would want would be to be held down in a manner reminiscent of school bullies.
The commune members hesitated, but, receiving a curt nod from Hua Cheng next to Xie Lian, swiftly acquiesced. They backed away until they formed a loose, circle around Qi Rong, who continued to thrash in a manner that appeared violent but was actually far more harmful to himself than it was to anyone else in their vicinity. Still, Xie Lian lost no time. Immediately, he sat down on the ground and placed himself in front of Qi Rong, making sure his cousin could see him clearly as no threat.
“Qi Rong,” Xie Lian called out. When that elicited no reaction, he gritted his teeth and said, “Cuz.”
Qi Rong stopped yelling for a moment. “Oh, you’re alive.”
Xie Lian nodded, tried to make his face as friendly and calm as he could. “Yes, cuz. I’m sorry that the others tried to restrain you. I promise it will not happen again.” He hoped this was what Qi Rong had wanted to hear –– in truth, he had no idea what went on in his cousin’s head most days, and had stopped trying to guess about two hours into their insane road trip.
Xie Lian could feel Hua Cheng bending over to loom ominously over Xie Lian’s shoulder, and then watched as Qi Rong met Hua Cheng’s eyes and gulped. Hua Cheng had always had that effect on people, for some reason –– Xie Lian had never understood it, because Hua Cheng had always been so extraordinarily gentle with him. Even the rough edges had been endearing to Xie Lian, and he’d found it funny that others would react this way. Right now, though, it came in handy, and helped subdue Qi Rong a little.
Xie Lian supposed that now he had to convince Qi Rong to stay at the commune. All of the clients he’d worked with in his law job had been all too happy to listen to him, and he’d always been able to figure out exactly what it was they needed. (It helped that they’d all wanted the same thing, which was not to be deported, but it had also been a great source of depression that Xie Lian had ultimately been unable to help most of them. He was glad he wasn’t at court anymore on account of being here, but he worried as to who was there for them instead.) Qi Rong, on the other hand, was an enigma, something unpredictable that needed to be approached with the utmost care. But Xie Lian reminded himself that this was important –– that everyone was important –– and that he needed to practice patience and empathy above all.
So Xie Lian began with something concrete, factual, to ground Qi Rong. “San Lang has invited us to stay in Ghost City for a bit. Is that something that you would like?”
“I––“
“Hold on,” one of the commune members who’d been restraining Qi Rong said, lip twisted in such irritation that Xie Lian worried it would get stuck that way. (Or perhaps it already was? This commune member had one of those inherently grumpy faces.) “We need to take a vote. I’m not sure how I feel about having this… criminal live with us.”
From the corner of his eye, Xie Lian saw Yin Yu exchange glances with Hua Cheng, as though communicating something wordlessly. Then Yin Yu cleared his throat and said, “Mu Qing, you’re literally here because you stole cherries from the orchard where you were previously employed and they threatened to tell the government that you had no papers. No matter how you feel about Qi Rong as a person, if you try to make a case for him not deserving to be here as much as you, you’ll start to run into some serious issues with how you define concepts like ‘belonging’, ‘crime’, ‘harm’, and ‘justice’.”
“Wow,” Xie Lian couldn’t help but blurt out as he stared at Yin Yu in a new light. “Do you guys have an abolition reading group too? I can’t wait to join.”
Before anyone could respond, Hua Cheng said, “We do now. I hope gege will do us the honor of designing the syllabus. I expect to see a lot of Ruth Wilson Gilmore.”
Xie Lian felt himself go flush. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly.”
Hua Cheng knelt down to meet Xie Lian’s eyes and pouted in faux petulance. “I insist, gege.”
“Oh, alright then,” Xie Lian replied, feeling a warmth bubble up in his chest at the way Hua Cheng’s whole face was lit up, as though Xie Lian were something precious.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still. No one had looked at Xie Lian this way for a long time, and Xie Lian had long stopped yearning for it, but face-to-face with Hua Cheng again… Xie Lian remembered how it had felt to be admired, and to be part of a relationship of exchange and mutual care, when he had grown to accept being deemed important; even to expect it.
Had it really been so many years since he’d last felt loved? Unbidden, those words seemed to rise up his throat again –– Do you still…? Do you want to…?
“Ew, never mind, I would do literally anything to make you guys stop that,” Qi Rong suddenly said, expertly puncturing the mood once more.
Xie Lian sighed, and Hua Cheng shot Qi Rong a dark look, then came back to gaze upon Xie Lian adoringly. “Mu Qing is right, though,” Hua Cheng muttered. “We shall have to put it to a vote, over lunch. However, I am sure that no one would ever consider voting against gege.”
Yin Yu cleared his throat again. “In that case, it’s a good thing that lunch is ready. Why don’t we all retreat to the communal dining room?”
“Come on, Qi Rong, let’s go!” Banyue said happily, running over to drag Qi Rong up from the ground. Huh, Xie Lian thought as he saw this. Just the other day the two had needed to be physically prevented from tearing each other’s throats out, and now they were… friends? In cahoots?
Had Xie Lian really only been out for a day? Or had it perhaps been a week, or a year? Banyue was being nice, and Qi Rong had significantly toned down his behavior (he hadn’t mentioned cannibalism at all yet today), and the two of them were now even cooperating. Could it be that being at the commune was just having this good of an effect on these people?
Yes, that was probably it, Xie Lian decided as they streamed into the house and sat around the long wooden dining table laden with an arrangement of colourful and delicious-looking vegetarian dishes. The commune was simply too good to be true.
Xie Lian had to stay. He was surprised at how quickly he’d come to this conclusion, considering how panicked he’d been even this morning, and part of him worried that having Hua Cheng here made it impossible, but he was also aware that this was exactly the kind of place he needed. He knew this for certain now; that something like contentedness was just in reach.
He dearly hoped the commune wouldn’t vote Qi Rong out, because then Xie Lian would have to leave, too. They’d have to get back into the car and drive.
But Xie Lian needn’t have worried. Surprisingly –– but also unsurprisingly, considering, again, how scary Hua Cheng could sometimes be –– the vote to allow Xie Lian and Qi Rong to stay in Ghost City passed unanimously. Even the commune member who’d protested –– Mu Qing –– didn’t look that upset about the result. Because, really, Hua Cheng ruled not out of fear, but out of respect; it was clear that the commune members genuinely appreciated his leadership, despite all his idiosyncrasies (and Xie Lian was sure that there were many, if Hua Cheng was still anything like the way he’d been at university).
That was part of what made Hua Cheng so fun to be around, really, Xie Lian decided –– the way he carried himself, the confidence; the way others folded to his charisma. It used to make Xie Lian feel suspicious, to be the exception, but gradually he’d come to enjoy the contrast –– and now it felt so natural to be by Hua Cheng’s side once more, passing dishes around the table, making small talk.
And Xie Lian realised with an internal gasp that, now that the vote had passed, this would become the norm. Sitting right here, with Hua Cheng; seeing him every day; perhaps, in time, someday, taking off his eyepatch and kissing the marred skin beneath just as he used to, all those years ago.
Did Hua Cheng want that too?
“Hm?” Hua Cheng said when he reached over to pour water into Xie Lian’s glass and noticed Xie Lian not-so-surreptitiously staring at him. “What is it, gege?”
Xie Lian flashed a shy smile. “Nothing.” I love you. “I was just wondering how many pairs of overalls San Lang has. Yesterday San Lang wore a black pair, and today it’s denim.”
“Does gege like it?”
Hua Cheng kept asking him that –– if Xie Lian liked this, or that. As though everything had been set up with Xie Lian in mind. Which –– maybe ––
Xie Lian nodded. “It’s very… farm-y. It suits you well. Did you make it yourself?”
“Ah, gege could tell? This San Lang’s sewing skills are not as good as gege’s.”
“Oh, captain!” Banyue exclaimed from her seat right across the table, not at all ashamed that she’d technically been eavesdropping. She piled a heap of mashed potatoes in a complex pattern across her plate as she spoke her next words. “Yin Yu says that one of the commune’s next goals is to become make all of their own clothes from scratch. But no one’s good enough at sewing. Maybe that could be your job in the commune, captain!”
“Maybe,” Xie Lian agreed. It seemed like a nice idea, to sit by the sewing machine all day and invent things for people to wear. Xie Lian did in fact know how to sew, and he had even taken up embroidery for about a month a few years ago, when one of the other volunteers at the litter collecting group had talked about how therapeutic the process was. He’d given up after a particularly disastrous attempt at a flower, but he was sure he could pick it back up again, and use it to decorate the things he made. Anything to be useful to the commune, who had so generously welcomed him.
“No, gege doesn’t have time for that. He must become the committee secretary,” Hua Cheng said.
“I thought San Lang was the committee secretary.”
“Yeah,” Banyue said. “You’re the commune guy.”
“The commune guy,” Xie Lian repeated, unable to suppress a smile when he recalled how stupefied he’d been the other day.
“The commune guy!” Qi Rong crowed from the floor, where he was currently rolling, like a puppy. (Xie Lian made a mental note to ask Qi Rong about why he behaved that way, later. Really weird dude –– but Xie Lian’s weird dude, now.)
“The commune guy,” Hua Cheng echoed, “is gege.” He patted Xie Lian’s hand solemnly and leaned in closer to speak in a low tone so that only Xie Lian could hear, his eye deep as a lake. “Gege, forgive this San Lang for being too shy to say it out loud. But I’m sure you understand.”
Xie Lian swallowed, and saw Hua Cheng’s gaze dart to his lips. “Ahaha,” Xie Lian said awkwardly, picking up his fork and shoving the first thing he could find into his mouth, which turned out to be a grilled aubergine so layered in spice that tears sprang to Xie Lian’s eyes. “We’re at lunch, San Lang,” he said, muffled.
Hua Cheng smirked. “But does gege agree? To be secretary?”
“Oh, I don’t know!” Xie Lian replied. “San Lang is such a good commune leader, with really effective leadership!”
“Really?” Hua Cheng took his own bite of aubergine and raised an eyebrow. “What makes gege think that?”
“Look at the vote just now. Everyone listens to San Lang the tyrant. I think it’s cool,” Xie Lian teased.
“I’m not a tyrant,” Hua Cheng protested smoothly, taking a butterfly knife out of his pocket and snapping it back and forth absent-mindedly. “I’m very fair. It’s not my fault people find me intimidating. I try very hard to be approachable.” He slammed the blade of the butterfly knife into the dining table and began to carve something into it as easily as though he were doodling on the back of a card.
“Alright,” Xie Lian said softly as yet another burst of warmth rushed across his chest. “I’ll think about it.”
“I’m very glad that gege is here now. I missed gege.”
Xie Lian tucked his lips into his teeth so that he wouldn’t do something impulsive, like immediately kiss Hua Cheng on the mouth. Instead, he leaned over. “What are you doodling?”
“A small gift from me to you,” Hua Cheng said. He moved his hand away and showed Xie Lian –– a crooked little heart, with an arrow shot through it.
“Oh, shut up,” Xie Lian said, even as his own heart began to thunder in his chest. “That’s so cheesy.”
But it meant–– Well. Could it really be this simple?
“You know what’s cheesy?” Qi Rong barked from the ceiling, from which he was now hanging, one leg suspended on a wooden beam. The other commune members were doing their best to pretend that this was not happening, but this was difficult when Qi Rong’s long, greasy hair began to inch closer and closer to the plates of food.
Xie Lian looked up. “Cuz,” he said, trying to inject as much patience into his tone, “why don’t you get down here? It’ll be easier to tell us about cheesiness if you sat down at the table.”
“But––“
“Please. For me?”
“Okay,” Qi Rong grumbled, before promptly releasing his leg from the beam and landing on the table, sending the lovely veggie dishes flying into everyone’s faces with a loud, ugly splat. The commune members began to shout angrily, immediately creating uproar across the dining table.
Oh, no. They were going to be kicked out. They would ––
No, no, no. Xie Lian couldn’t spiral now. Hua Cheng gave his hand a squeeze of encouragement, and Xie Lian steadied his breath.
“Everyone calm down,” Xie Lian called out, even as Banyue began to slap Qi Rong wherever she could reach. Mu Qing appeared to be seconds away from a breakdown, and even Yin Yu’s mask of neutrality looked like it might begin to crack. “Qi Rong didn’t mean it, right?” Amidst the mess of limbs, Xie Lian found Qi Rong’s face, which dripped with tomato sauce from the vegetarian lasagna that had, until a few seconds ago, been the centrepiece of the meal.
Qi Rong froze and stared back at Xie Lian with hungry, hungry eyes. Then his head turned to Yin Yu, who sat on Xie Lian’s other side, and Qi Rong began to crawl over to investigate Yin Yu, perhaps wondering how someone could have such a plain, forgettable face.
“Yes,” Yin Yu said slowly, taking Xie Lian’s cue. “I’m sure you didn’t mean it. We were almost done with the food anyway, so…”
“You––“ Qi Rong began, then stopped and pulled his face into a Cheshire cat smile. Just when everyone at the table thought that he had finally calmed down, Qi Rong suddenly snapped his head forward and took a hard bite at Yin Yu’s hand.
“Ow!” Yin Yu said, drawing his hand away and looking in horror at the blood that was beginning to leak out of his crescent-shaped wound. “What the hell?”
All Qi Rong did was cackle and run back into his room, leaving the rest of them standing there in shock. The other commune members muttered among each other nervously, eyeing Hua Cheng and waiting for their leader to say something that might reassure them about spending the rest of their foreseeable future cohabiting with such a… specimen.
But Hua Cheng just shrugged and turned to Xie Lian. “Yin Yu will be fine,” he said with a genial smile. “And Qi Rong is still welcome to stay. I trust gege’s judgment.”
Xie Lian sighed and rubbed his temples. “I need to go talk to him.”
Hua Cheng peeled Xie Lian’s hands away from his face and began to massage his scalp in his stead, his strong fingertips finding all the right ways to make Xie Lian relax. Xie Lian closed his eyes and almost allowed himself this indulgence, but then remembered that he’d brought a murderer into this peaceful community and needed to begin doing something about that –– starting with addressing Qi Rong biting Yin Yu would be, well, a good start. He sighed again. Patience, he told himself. Kindness.
And: San Lang is here.
Yes, San Lang was here. There was someone standing next to him, in front of him, caring for him. And for now, that had to be enough.
Xie Lian opened his eyes once more and looked at Hua Cheng with what he hoped was a determined face. “You’ve got Internet here, right?” he asked.
“Of course,” Hua Cheng said. “Does gege prefer Ethernet? I can do that too, but it’ll take a few weeks. And a shovel.”
A blush crept up Xie Lian’s cheeks again and he hurried to swat Hua Cheng’s hands away from his face and turning away so that Hua Cheng wouldn’t have to see him like this. “Ah, that’s fine, thank you, San Lang!” he said quickly, knowing that Hua Cheng was probably already plotting it anyway. “Wi-Fi is fine. I just need to… go and Google… transformative justice.”
Banyue patted him on the shoulder sympathetically. “Good luck, captain.”
Fin.
…And the Revolution happened a few years later and everyone in the world lived happily ever after!!! ^__^