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Xie Lian knows himself to be in a dream by how hazy the edges are.
He dreams a lot now, and this one is more than familiar; though there’s a few dreams and nightmares he cycles through, this one is perhaps his favourite.
The first thing he notices, even as he can’t see, is the sound of rustling surrounding him. The first few times, he had mistaken this dream for a reality, if only because the recreation of this memory felt entirely vivid around him.
Somehow, he can feel the sensation of their shared blanket beneath his fingertips, can feel the lingering sweat and oncoming headache from how hot it had been during the night. Most importantly, he can feel Hua Cheng’s breath against his cheeks, and it is that light feeling that makes him open his eyes.
“San Lang.” He greets, though it comes out slightly garbled, his voice not functioning slightly after lack of use. The scene that greets him feels as though it should be a painting, all bold lines and soft colours; the echo of the rising sun crowns Hua Cheng, making him all gentle around the edges.
He wears his teen disguise today, and his hair is already plaited, not an unintentional strand out of place. No matter what he does, he manages to pull it off perfectly, and just the sight of him already has a smile on Xie Lian’s face.
“Gege,” He replies. “I need to go now.”
His voice is sweet, if a little sorrowful, as if he doesn’t want the moment to end either. Xie Lian forces his hand to unclench from where it was gripping Hua Cheng’s wrist, though not before absentmindedly rubbing it with his thumb as an apology.
“Sorry for clinging to you, San Lang-” He starts but Hua Cheng shushes him, patient as ever.
“Never apologise.” He says. “Especially when you haven’t done anything wrong. In fact-” He adds, a smirk gracing his features- “I quite enjoyed it.”
“How can you say such shameless things?” Xie Lian groans, covering his red face with his hands. He hears Hua Cheng laugh from beside him, before pulling further away. “Will you be gone long?” He asks, when it’s clear Hua Cheng isn’t going to tease any further.
“Hopefully not.” Hua Cheng responds. “I should be back soon.”
And then, “I can’t be too long, or I’ll wither away from missing gege so much.”
“Go.” Xie Lian says, pushing at him, though there’s no real force behind it. When Xie Lian does it in the dream, something in him wants to cling to him and say, ‘stay, stay, you haven’t come back to me yet’.
A variation from his memory occurs then, maybe coming with his approaching consciousness. Hua Cheng grasps his hand, the feeling of calloused fingers against the back of his hand making goosebumps appear. He smiles and slowly, ever so slowly, places a gentle kiss on Xie Lian’s knuckles.
His brain short circuits and, for a few moments, he just stares. Hua Cheng looks utterly smug, his grin widening as Xie Lian begins to stammer, unused to the attention.
“I’ll leave gege to his rest now.” Hua Cheng smiles. “I promise I’ll come back to you soon. I’m not too far now.”
“Wh- San Lang!” Xie Lia exclaims, suddenly sitting bolt upright, though it is to the sight of his empty Puqi Shrine, no trace of Hua Cheng to be seen, disappearing from Xie Lian’s life again entirely. Only now, in his reality, does the satisfied feeling flee and the loneliness comes flooding back.
Another day as usual it seems. The space beside him on his lonely bamboo mat remains steadfastly empty.
As he begins his day, he can’t help but let the memory flood through him. That morning had been a sweet one and he remembers sinking back into sleep a few minutes after Hua Cheng had disappeared, feeling utterly content.
He searches for the same feeling now, though he can’t seem to find it. He’s doing the same things as he had that morning; cleaning up the shrine, checking the empty donations box, doing odd jobs here and there.
But he can’t seem to relax now. The place feels unfinished and, whilst that would never usually bother Xie Lian, who was more than used to living in half-made houses, the temporary taste of a genuine home— one that he hadn’t felt in eight hundred years, or perhaps ever— had left him addicted, desperate for something more that he can’t have.
By the time the feeling has faded (as much as it can, when Hua Cheng’s not around), Shi Qingxuan has already arrived, settling down in the shrine after lighting some incense. Xie Lian always tells them that they don’t have to, especially if they’re here to visit a friend, but they insist.
“It’s the right thing to do, is it not, when you’re in a shrine?” Shi Qingxuan always says. “Plus I can’t have your Crimson Rain angry at me when he returns.”
Today, the reminder only hurts. Shi Qingxuan seems to realise that too, falling uncharacteristically silent as they think through their words.
“Did something happen?” They ask. “You seem-” They gesture to him, their hand waving wildly, almost sloshing some of the tea Xie Lian poured for them- “Different... Sadder.”
“Ah,” Xie Lian says, and wonders when Shi Qingxuan learnt to read him so well. “It was just a dream, is all. Nothing serious.”
“It’s serious if it upsets you.” They say. Their gaze turns a little considering as they take a drink. Then, they place it back onto the table before shuffling forward slightly, as if to truly bring their point with them. “I did mean what I said about your Hua Cheng.”
Your Hua Cheng...
Something in Xie Lian snaps, like a string that had been pulled taut. All the feelings he had bottled up come flooding out.
“I miss him.” He admits, and something is alleviated off his chest. “It feels like… Like it’s swallowing me. I try to focus on other things but then I see a butterfly, or something red, or something pretty, or something that makes me smile, and— It all just reminds me of him.”
In every happiness he finds, he thinks of San Lang.
Only after having met you, did I discover it’s such a simple thing to be happy.
“And,” Xie Lian continues, “If he could wait eight hundred years, why am I struggling so much?”
“He must have struggled too.” Shi Qingxuan argues, though looks apologetic when Xie Lian casts them a despaired glance. “No, no, you misunderstand me. He managed it but it probably wasn’t easy for him, right? Just as you’re managing now but you’d be much happier if he was here.”
“What I’m trying to say is… Well, it sucks. But it will get better! Crimson Rain would never make you wait too long, after all.” Shi Qingxuan concludes, looking awfully happy with themselves. “Now cheer up and pour me some more tea. The pathway up here is such a struggle, you know…”
Shi Qingxuan leaves a few hours later. Xie Lian feels endlessly lighter for their talk.
He busies himself for the rest of the day, though only when he fetches water from the nearby river for his cooking pot does he realise what day it is.
The sky is lit up brightly, so much so that Xie Lian wonders for a moment when the stars grew so big. Then, he looks a little closer, and realises that they’re Everlasting Blessing lanterns.
Today is the Shuangyuan Festival.
He thinks back to this day, eight hundred years ago, when he and Hua Cheng had first met, when he was still the Crown Prince of Xianle, and he was still a little boy filled with wonder. Though he loved all of Hua Cheng, something in Xie Lian cared for Hong-er in a way unlike the others. This was where it all began, in a child cursed with misfortune and a prince who believed in simple kindnesses.
A smile hangs on Xie Lian’s face, as he stares up at the sky and thinks, I wasn’t the only one who had fallen.
He continues his walk back, mood a little lighter, as he carries the pail of water along with him, absentmindedly swinging his arms, ignoring where a few drops spill. Then the sky alights again, burning even brighter than before, and his eyes widen when he realises it’s more lanterns.
He had seen that sight before, almost a year ago now, from when he was sat up in heaven, surrounded by people he didn’t know or care about. The same light from that day, so bright it had almost blinded him. His heart stops, and he isn’t even able to kick it into action again, as he stands frozen in the middle of the pathway.
After a few moments of admiring the sky, he forces himself to continue, lest he gets too utterly caught up that he remains there for the night. But, as he approaches, he sees someone standing outside of the shrine; someone in a familiar bright red, and a rattling scimitar by their side. They hold their own blessing lantern in their hands, tilting their head back as they let it fly, joining the sea of others.
They surge together, becoming one like two sides of a tide. One ocean, one body; a sea of feelings between them, all swirling around, unable to be contained. Their lips crash together and Xie Lian finally, finally smiles.
*
Their afternoon passes peacefully. The windows to the Puqi shrine are open, letting in the fading sunlight as fresh air and the smell of flowers surrounds them. They lie on the bamboo mat, sitting propped up on their arms as they had before, though, this time, their thighs are pressed together and they’re close enough to feel each other’s comfortable breathing.
As Xie Lian talks, Hua Cheng just listens, wearing the sweetest smile. Xie Lian has missed it, and seeing it so frequently now has made something in him unlodge, the debris in his heart finally cleared.
Eventually, he trails off without even realising, just staring at the man before him. Compared to his dream, this San Lang is much more preferable, if only because he’s solid beside him. He can feel skin pressing against skin, warmth against cool, and knows that Hua Cheng is going nowhere.
“San Lang.” Xie Lian whispers against his chest, simply just to say it. “San Lang, I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” He says. He lifts his hand, the one with the red string tied tight, and caresses Xie Lian’s cheek. “Whenever we’re apart, we’ll always find each other. I will never leave you for so long again.”
Xie Lian finds it hard not to believe it.
“You must be tired from your journey.” Xie Lian says. “Come on, let's go to bed.”
They settle then, shifting slightly until their position is comfortable.
“Are you warm enough?” Hua Cheng asks. Though Hua Cheng’s skin is cold, Xie Lian has never felt warmer. Still, Hua Cheng brings the blankets up further, tucking them beneath Xie Lian’s chin. “There you go.”
“Good night, San Lang.” He says. And then, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” Comes the immediate reply. “But I’m home now.” He presses a kiss against Xie Lian’s forehead, endlessly gentle. “Goodnight, gege.”
“Sweet dreams.”
Xie Lian sleeps, with Hua Cheng pressed against his side; their lanterns filling the sky.
(A few hours later, when the sun is just about faded, Xie Lian wakes again, blinking blearily. He makes no move to sit up, too comfortable for that, though he casts a glance around the shrine and finds all of the candles extinguished, all of the windows closed.
“San Lang?” He asks when he registers the presence beside him. Finally, he manages to focus his vision on the sight in front of him, only to see Hua Cheng already watching him, a look of pure contentment on his face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Can’t I be glad to see you?” He wonders, his tone soft. “Aren’t I allowed to miss you too?”
“Of course you are.” Xie Lian says, though his cheeks still remain flushed. “But… Ah! You’re too much!”
“I have to disagree, Your Highness.” Hua Cheng says. “I only treat you how you deserve.”
“With respect and adoration?”
“With the utmost dedication, as required of your most devoted believer.”
“My favourite believer.” Xie Lian corrects.
“Gege shouldn’t pick favourites, though I am honoured to take that role,” Hua Cheng teases. “Will gege give me my reward?”
“And what would that be?” Xie Lian asks. “I’ve already given you everything.”
Hua Cheng makes a punched-out sound, before replying, albeit a little weakly, “How about a kiss?”
“Mn.” Xie Lian agrees. “That I can do, as many times as you want.”
Xie Lian cups his cheek then, leaning up to press his lips against Hua Cheng’s.
Even with his eyes closed, he knows Hua Cheng is smiling.)