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The news had spread across both the world of the living and the realm of the dead like a firebird’s flame on a vast sea of paper talismans—the fearsome Ghost Slayer and esteemed Professor Shen of Dragon City University had proposed to the renowned Lord Guardian and charismatic Chief of the SID, and Zhao Yunlan had said ‘yes’. The powerful pair were set to tie the knot in a month, though few were the ones lucky enough to be attending the festivities, as the grooms wanted the ceremony to be kept intimate, and not too extravagant.
Needless to say, news of the upcoming wedding was the only thing that the Ministry, the university and the fairy tribes talked about these days—and with good reason, too.
On the list of attendees were prominent members of the Fox, Horse and Snake tribes—including Zhu Hong’s favorite Uncle Four—and a select few of Zhao Yunlan’s brothers from the different departments who had dealings with matters of the more magical kind. Guo Changcheng’s uncle and aunt had also promised to come, and it went without saying that everyone working under the Guardian Order was also a valued guest of honor, and a precious contributor to the marriage preparations. Finally, as for Zhao Yunlan’s parents, they had reached the golden age where one ceased to give so much importance to the perception of others, and this worked the other way as well. And so, on the off chance that the fairies decided to forego their human identities in favor of their original appearances, Zhao Yunlan could have staked his life on the fact that not only the Empress would not bat an eye nor look twice at the strange, non-human faces, but also that she would probably find something to criticize about her son in the same amount of time.
Put quite simply, Zhao Yunlan wasn’t too worried about his mother’s reaction.
Presently, Shen Wei was deeply focused as he carefully wrote the invitations by hand, each stroke of his brush gentle and delicate against the paper. The cards that Zhao Yunlan and he had picked together featured a magnificent, snow-capped mountain towering proudly against a clear sky, from whence rivers serpentined down across valleys and hills in a beautiful amalgamation of rich greens and vibrant blues. While Shen Wei was working at the familial table of the Zhao’s, Mama Zhao came up behind him with a wooden spoon in hand, and peered over his shoulder at what he was doing.
“Dearest Xiao Wei—what a splendid handwriting you have!” Mama Zhao gushed as she sat down next to Shen Wei to admire his handiwork. “My son’s handwriting is so scraggly and untidy, ugh! I can’t understand it at all. But this… this… if Yunlan could write like this, I would be happy even if I died tomorrow. I have never seen anything so lovely in my long, long life,” she announced as she continued to rave about the neat, elegant characters drawn by Shen Wei.
Zhao Yunlan, who had just come out of the kitchen bearing a steamed bun in hand, chortled at the words around his mouthful of chicken and egg—as he knew how much older his mother’s son-in-law was than her—but Mama Zhao utterly ignored his intervention.
“‘Ma, please don’t say such things,” Shen Wei pleaded the woman, interrupting his writing to give her a tortured look.
“Yeah, ‘Ma—…” Zhao Yunlan sputtered as he stuffed half of the steamed bun in his cheek, knowing full well that he was tempting the gods, and would be on the receiving end of that spoon if he persisted in talking with his mouth full.
Mama Zhao turned to him and sniffed in disdain at his blatant lack of manners, making to whack him with her deadly utensil, and sending Shen Wei’s stomach dropping down into his heels as she did, though Zhao Yunlan effectively dodged his mother’s attack, a habit that must have been drilled into him over time. “Your future husband is so refined… Why can’t you be more like him?” Mama Zhao asked calmly.
“That’s harsh, ‘Ma. Your son is doing his best,” Zhao Yunlan whined after finishing his bite, wrapping his lanky arms—not to mention his greasy paws—round her petite shoulders, and tightening his hold when she attempted to shrug him off.
Zhao Yunlan and his mother were always like this, but the bond between them ran deep.
Shen Wei smiled fondly at the display, then returned to his previous activities.
Witnessing this, Mama Zhao shifted her attention away from her foolish progeny and back to her remarkable son-in-law, unmatched amongst all other sons-in-law. “Don’t forget your parents, Xiao Wei,” Mama Zhao told Shen Wei. “I am very much looking forward to meeting the man and woman who raised such a well-mannered and talented boy. Yunlan, do you think we should invite them for dinner, so we can discuss the wedding and get to know each other ahead of time?”
Shen Wei jerked to a halt, then frowned at the invitation card, where he had smudged the ink.
“‘Ma,” Zhao Yunlan called his mother from where he stood by the table, then mouthed ‘Shen Wei doesn’t have parents’.
Mama Zhao’s mouth formed into a silent ‘o’. “Oh, darling, I’m so sorry… How insensitive of me,” Mama Zhao gasped as she attempted to salvage the situation, despite Shen Wei’s protests that she couldn’t have known and that no harm had been done. “Well,” Mama Zhao trailed off after apologizing profusely, and reached over the table to squeeze Shen Wei’s forearm which now rested on the table, brush in hand. “I know it’s not the same, but you have us now,” she offered.
Shen Wei’s features softened at the kind words. “It’s more than enough, ‘Ma. Thank you.”
Mama Zhao beamed at him, then looked up at her son and the remains of the decimated bun in his hand. “Yunlan, if you eat everything you find lying around, there won’t be any food left for dinner. Go help your father,” she told him as she pushed back her chair and started making her way back to the battlefield, armed with her favorite weapon of resistance.
“Yes, ‘Ma,” Zhao Yunlan answered in a long drawling tone, like a child might have to his mother after being told the same thing time and time again, which Shen Wei guessed must be the case, judging from the dynamics he had observed so far. “Here, open wide,” came Zhao Yunlan’s voice, pulling Shen Wei out of his thoughts as he popped the last bite of his snack into Shen Wei’s mouth, then cupped his face tenderly and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. “Aiyo, Xiao Wei… I’m going to go see what ‘Pa is up to. Gotta keep him happy until our big day,” Zhao Yunlan announced, spinning on his heels while Shen Wei hummed in reply, and waving at him as he walked around the table and disappeared from view.
For a short instant, Shen Wei stayed frozen in place, basking in the normalcy and domesticity of the moment—trivial as it may have seemed—that had just taken place. Then, after setting the pile of invitations aside, Shen Wei stood to his feet and headed towards the kitchen to give Mama Zhao a hand with her dinner preparations.
The following morning, the soon-to-be married couple almost backed out of their appointment at a specialized, antique bakery in favor of sleep, feeling sluggish after a night of overindulgence imposed by Mama Zhao, who claimed that it was necessary for her son to look decent and proper once he was all suited-up, what with his twig-like physique and all. Thankfully, the quaint shop was just across the street and, within seconds, they were ushered to a private corner and sat down in front of a mountain of sweets all more regal than the next.
Shen Wei set down what must have been his tenth plate of cake—feeling unsatisfied, frustrated, and slightly nauseous.
Though the colorful, fancy cakes spread out over the table in all forms and shapes looked sumptuous and scrumptious, Shen Wei had been bitterly disappointed when he had found out for himself that they were anything but. Thankfully, the servings were small, but this was still a lot more than what the professor was used to, given that refined sugar was practically non-existent in his diet. From the get-go, Shen Wei had said that he wanted to be in charge of baking the cake, which would be a lot more appetizing than the slice of concentrated, solid poison that he had just sunk his teeth into. If anyone asked, he preferred doing things himself, and knew he was more than capable of completing this simple task.
Shen Wei had told as much to his future husband before, and figured he might as well offer him a subtle reminder, now that they were getting nowhere fast and that Zhao Yunlan’s patience was running dry.
“Yunlan... why don’t you let me handle this?” Shen Wei suggested carefully, keeping his voice down so as not to be overheard by the baking personnel and advisers who were moving heaven and earth to please this difficult customer.
Zhao Yunlan gave him a pained smile and reached under the table to squeeze his knee briefly. “I have complete faith in your abilities, sweetie, but you have more than enough on your plate as it is,” he explained, digging into a new slice of cake and bringing the fork to his mouth warily. At this rate, he might very well develop an aversion to desserts—or diabetes, whichever came first. “How can anyone stand this sweetness,” Zhao Yunlan gagged, his features twisting in disgust as he chewed and swallowed with difficulty. “Does this even qualify as food? Xiao Wei, I think those people want us dead.”
Shen Wei chuckled lightly at Zhao Yunlan’s dramatic thought process. “You have way too much imagination.”
Zhao Yunlan grinned at Shen Wei in return, then did a double take when he noticed something terribly wrong with him. “Hey, Xiao Wei? Look at me?” He asked uncertainly, grasping Shen Wei’s chin and turning his face to examine it closely as the other stared back at him in confusion. “This is bad… Baby, I think you’ve had quite enough sugar for today,” Zhao Yunlan resolved, recognizing the signs of a sugar high from the way Shen Wei’s left eyeball had begun to jump underneath his spasming lid. “Ugh, I don’t care either way. Let’s just pick something at random and get out of here. As long as the guests are happy, I’m not taking another bite,” he finished. Heaving out a decisive breath to emphasize the finality of his statement, Zhao Yunlan promptly stood up and marched over to the saccharine vitrine, where the staff members had lined up and were watching them from afar, waiting for the hammer to fall.
Shen Wei gave them a meek smile from across the room.
Weddings were hard work.
After their disastrous cake-tasting adventure, Shen Wei was out of commission for several days, and it stood to reason that instant noodles were a popular item on the menu during that period of time. However, once the professor was back on his feet, and his beloved kitchen was filled once more with the delicious aromas of homemade cooking, the betrothed decided to hit the stores and tackle the matter of tailored men’s clothing—something that Shen Wei was intimately acquainted with, and that Mama Zhao was more than happy to volunteer herself into, much to Papa Zhao’s dismay.
“Try this one, Xiao Wei—it’s in very good style,” Mama Zhao told Shen Wei as she handed him a hanger bearing a midnight blue twill suit, which Shen Wei accepted—Yes, ‘Ma—with a benign smile and a bow, tracing his steps back to the fitting room that he had been occupying for the better part of the last hour.
As a university professor, Shen Wei had a fair amount of jackets and dress pants at home, not to mention a wide array of ties in all the colors of the spectrum. Although his knowledge in the matter—much like his personal collection—was quite extensive, Shen Wei couldn’t say that he had a preference in terms of the suit that he would wear on his wedding day, nor did he care whether the attendees would find that his chosen attire was a nice fit, or think less of him for not observing tuxedo etiquette—which he always did, anyway.
“This one really brings out the color of your eyes—very nice!”
“What a gorgeous, gorgeous man my fool of a son is marrying. How blessed we are!”
“Xiao Wei, how slim and tall this one makes you look!”
“Perfect! I think we should pick this one… but try that one next, just to be safe!”
Mama Zhao seemed to fancy every suit he tried on, and Shen Wei couldn’t bring himself to say not to her whenever she handed him another one, but as much as he enjoyed spending time with his mother-in-law and deepening their ties, something that he knew was extremely important to Zhao Yunlan, Shen Wei couldn’t help but think that his intended might have benefited a lot more from his mother’s close attention and eye for detail. He wondered then how things were going for his future husband, who had gone shopping with Papa Zhao, of all people.
The two weren’t exactly two peas in a pod, and Shen Wei feared that father and son quarreled so close to the wedding.
The last thing he needed was for Zhao Yunlan to be miserable on what was supposed to be the happiest day of his life.
Meanwhile, just a few blocks down the street…
“‘Pa, could you at least tell me what you think, please...?” Zhao Yunlan said through clenched teeth, very nearly at his wit’s end. “I’m not asking you to give me a detailed analysis of the colors, or to tell me whether the number of buttons on the cuffs is auspicious for a wedding. I just want to know if it looks nice,” he snapped, glowering at his father.
For the past hour or so—though it felt like a good five thousand years—Zhao Yunlan had tried on more suits than he had worn in his entire life, yet it didn’t seem like he was anywhere near done. Right now, he could feel a headache coming on, and mental exhaustion was blurring his memories. Quite frankly, Zhao Yunlan was unable to tell the different styles apart anymore, and he couldn’t remember which ones he had tried on already, and which ones he hadn’t—and nor did Papa Zhao, for that matter. This type of… of sensory overload was akin to smelling too many colognes in a short amount of time and gradually losing your sense of smell—except with suits.
Zhao Yunlan wished that Shen Wei was here. Suit culture was simply lost on him.
I hope Shen Wei is having more luck than me… Zhao Yunlan fretted anxiously.
“Even Da Qing would have been more helpful. I wish the store had let him come in with me instead of you,” Zhao Yunlan muttered under his breath, picking out one of the outfits that had looked decent, and making a beeline for checkout.
“Did you say something, son?” Papa Zhao called after him.
“Nothing at all, Dad!”
And so the days flew by at a rapid pace in much the same fashion.
There was so much to do that Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan quickly became overwhelmed, losing track of time as they busied themselves with the preparations. Before long, the wedding was just around the corner.
It was the eve of the wedding, and Zhao Yunlan had been especially temperamental all throughout the day.
Weddings were supposed to be joyous occasions, but Shen Wei had found that they required an enormous amount of time and effort to plan, and that with them came an equal amount of stress. Although he had been genuinely thrilled to marry Zhao Yunlan, Shen Wei had seen how his lover had been gradually losing sleep as they neared the date, and now he was starting to wonder whether he hadn’t caused him more harm than happiness with his gesture.
Since after dinner, Zhao Yunlan had been smoking on end despite his recent decision to quit, and as much as Shen Wei hated seeing him ruining his health, if this was what Zhao Yunlan needed right now, then he would turn a blind eye on his relapse. “Ah, Xiao Wei, er… Sorry about this,” Zhao Yunlan told Shen Wei as the other joined him on their balcony, wrapped in his midnight blue silk dressing gown, and he gave an apologetic, guilty smile for being caught in the act.
“It’s alright. I know this is only temporary,” Shen Wei said patiently. “...How are you holding up?”
Zhao Yunlan took a long drag from his cigarette as he leaned casually against the railing, turning his head to exhale in the direction that the wind blew, so as not to bother Shen Wei with the smoke.
“Doing okay, I guess. The Empress says I have a weak mind,” he revealed, scoffing. “How’s that for moral support. Geez...”
“Ah Lan… don’t call her that,” Shen Wei scolded him gently. “Your mother loves you very much.
Zhao Yunlan blinked, then smiled wistfully at the words. “Yeah… Yeah, I know.”
Taking one last puff of his cigarette and putting out the half-spent stick in an ashtray that he had unearthed from a cupboard—Shen Wei hadn’t thrown them all away after all—Zhao Yunlan beckoned him closer. “...C’mere, you.”
More than happy to comply, Shen Wei sidled closer to his lover and wrapped an arm around his shoulders while Zhao Yunlan snaked his own arm around Shen Wei’s waist, feeling the smooth fabric of the gown across his back with his hand. Zhao Yunlan sighed deeply as he leaned against him—contentedly, rather than wearily. “I love you, Xiao Wei, I really do,” Zhao Yunlan whispered, shifting in his embrace in order to kiss the crown of Shen Wei’s hair. “Don’t think for a second that I’m not absolutely ecstatic about tomorrow, okay? It’s just the nerves, I promise,” he assured him.
Shen Wei’s heart trembled blissfully in his chest at the declaration, but he couldn’t find in him the words to express even a fraction of what he felt for the other man, and so he said nothing, tightening his hold around Zhao Yunlan, and hoping that his lover could hear the unspoken words in the wild beating of his heart in his chest.
******
At long last, the big day arrived.
Since the grooms already had a perfectly good piece of land to their name, it had been decided that the wedding would take place in their backyard behind their beautiful garden villa, which had been livened up with traditional ornaments made by Wang Zheng and Sang Zan, and where a large tent had been erected to house the guests after the ceremony for the celebrations that were to follow. The sun was shining and attendance was high—with only three absentees—which brought the headcount to about forty-odd people, making this a private but very anticipated event.
As Shen Wei’s best man, Chu Shuzhi was there to greet the guests upon their arrival, but seeing how the gaunt-faced man, despite his elegant getup and goofy smile, appeared to be spooking the guests more than make them feel at home, Da Qing had joined him as Zhao Yunlan’s appointed cat of honor. Ever the loyal companion to the Zombie King, Guo Changcheng had also offered to keep them company, and so the friends now made a happy, if not a little odd, trio.
“The boss is going to screech,” commented Lin Jing as he peered at the climbing pile of presents which had been steadily increasing for the past twenty minutes, against Zhao Yunlan’s—apparently not clear enough—instruction for the guests not to bring anything. The only reason for his reluctance was that he didn’t want to have to return the courtesy fortyfold, although everyone knew that Zhao Yunlan wouldn’t be the one writing those thank you notes.
“...I hope Shen Wei makes him do it,” spat Zhu Hong who had donned a wine V-neck crepe dress with a ruffled slit. Emptying the cup of fruit punch that she had been sipping angrily for the past few minutes, Zhu Hong went over to sit with Wang Zheng, whose dress for the occasion was wisteria-colored, garnished with lace around the bust and one of her shoulder, with the other left bare. Truly, the Hanga princess was attracting a lot of eyes, unbeknownst to her lover.
Soon, the lawn of the Shen and Zhao residence was abounding with humans, ghosts and fairies alike, all reunited under one roof to honor two very special men. The afternoon progressed at a leisurely pace—much too slowly for our grooms, who were adding the finishing touches to their suits, torn between excitement and last-minute anxiety.
And so, at six o’clock on the dot, the air was thick with anticipation.
Shen Wei stood solemnly by the altar, clad in a wool-blend charcoal tailcoat, a white waistcoat and shirt, grey-and-black striped trousers and a silver tie. On his breast pocket were pinned a scarlet red rose and a bunch of white baby’s breath. While Shen Wei’s hair was styled in its usual parted fashion, he had decided to forego the spectacles, which were not of any real use to him, and were only part of his professor’s persona.
All eyes were on Shen Wei’s graceful figure and, while he didn’t usually mind the scrutiny, now his nerves were a little wracked from the wait, and so he shifted self-consciously under their intent stares. Chu Shuzhi, who stood by him and noticed his trouble, bent over to whisper in his ear: “Professor Shen. Pretend you’re in class in front of your students,” and so Shen Wei did, and felt a little better for it, but still the seconds crawled by at a snail’s pace.
Finally, the double glass doors of the villa opened, and the audience fell silent.
Stealing furtive glances over their shoulders, the guests held their breaths at the sight of Zhao Yunlan walking arm-in-arm with his mother, the former’s grueling suit-shopping adventure having borne its fruits.
Zhao Yunlan looked more handsome than ever, having chosen a three-piece pinstripe tuxedo with notched lapels and a black-and-red striped tie, the hunter green color of the suit complementing his warm brown eyes. As for his light beard, it had been nicely trimmed and groomed, while his typically disordered hair was slicked back and revealed his sharp cheekbones and high forehead. At Zhao Yunlan’s arm, Mama Zhao was radiant and beaming with pride as she escorted her son to meet his future husband. Eventually, the mother-and-son pair finished their walk down the grassy aisle, and Mama Zhao joined Papa Zhao who sat in the first row with Da Qing and was flanked by the members of the SID, the two families—both biological and adopted—united as one in this sacred moment.
Zhao Yunlan closed the remaining distance separating him from Shen Wei and went to stand by his side.
Meeting Shen Wei’s eyes that had been drinking in the sight of him ever since he had appeared, and winking at him playfully, Zhao Yunlan leaned over to the side and whispered ‘You look stunning’ for him only to hear. The declaration had Shen Wei averting his gaze and flushing a faint tinge of pink, and gave the audience a good sense of what had just transpired between the two, if their hushed laughter was any indication.
Finally, Lao Li, who had been unanimously chosen to perform the ceremony, called the crowd to order and began.
When the time came for the lovers to exchange their vows, Shen Wei offered to start.
Truth be told, the professor had no trouble speaking in front of a class, but this was a different matter altogether, and he had wanted to speak first before what little courage he still possessed escaped him. Clutching his notes, which he had prepared in case his memory chose this very inopportune moment to fail him, Shen Wei was shocked to find that the papers were shaking from the slight trembling of his hands. Stage fright was certainly new to him, and he felt perplexed, as he did not have any such previous experiences on which to base his actions.
After clearing his throat to dispel his unease, Shen Wei began his speech as he remembered it, letting the emotions that he could feel coursing through him seep into his voice and the words that he used.
“The first time I laid my eyes on you, I thought that you were larger than life—extraordinary—like a gift from the gods. I had never seen anyone like you, and would have been content watching you from a distance, but… true to your nature, you came to me. You picked me up and made me greater, and if today I am half the man you claim me to be, then it is only because you were there to make me into who I have become. In each of my dreams, and in every of my waking moments, whether we are apart or together—not a second passes where I don’t think of you. Zhao Yunlan, I cannot overstate how important meeting you has been to me. You gave me life, hope, and purpose... and that purpose is you.”
There were a few aww’s and murmurs of approval, and a shy smile danced upon Shen Wei’s lips as he ducked his head in embarrassment. While he was staring stubbornly at his gleaming, black leather derby shoes, Zhao Yunlan took Shen Wei’s hands into his own, making him look up in surprise and peer into his dark, shiny eyes, and giving him an encouraging smile. Shen Wei briefly wondered why Zhao Yunlan was cheering him on when it was his turn to go.
“Xiao Wei, honey,” Zhao Yunlan began, each syllable enunciated carefully, and laced with love and adoration.
The words hung in mid-air, and Shen Wei held his breath while he waited.
A boyish grin made its way onto Zhao Yunlan’s face as he continued: “...sweetcheeks… baby cakes… my darling… the love of my life… the apple of my eye… my one and only treasure… the bright sun to my moon... there’s more where that came from, but I’ll stop here for the sake of our guests.” With each of the increasingly sirupy diminutives, Shen Wei’s smile had begun to disintegrate as his neck and ears turned a vivid shade of red matching the rose on his chest, but by the end of Zhao Yunlan’s spiel, he found himself chuckling at his lover’s silliness, though he was glad that Zhao Yunlan had left the more inappropriate pet names out of his speech. Shen Wei figured that the guests must be laughing, but he couldn’t hear them over the sudden booming of his heart in his ears, for he knew Zhao Yunlan enough to guess that what came after the foolish remarks would be sincere and heartfelt.
Zhao Yunlan paused, waiting until the low murmur of the crowd had died down again.
Only then did Zhao Yunlan open his mouth and utter the words of many ages ago. “‘All I have to give that’s worth anything is my heart. You want it? Take it.’ The first time I said this to you, we were tragically torn from each other. When I met you again in this life, I repeated these words to you, and now, well... three is supposed to be a lucky number, so I’m hoping that this time, these words will keep us together for as long as we live.”
Shen Wei swallowed hard, keeping his eyes trained on Zhao Yunlan, even as they began to burn with tears not of sorrow, but of happiness of immeasurable amount. There was nothing else that Shen Wei could have possibly wished for: to be reunited with the only person that he had ever loved, completely and unconditionally, since opening his eyes to the world; to be with him after chasing his shadow for so long, and to know with absolute certitude that he would not be parted from him again—not now nor ever—brought Shen Wei such sheer joy that he almost couldn’t take it. His heart hammered so furiously against his ribcage that he thought his chest was not going to be able to withstand the force of its beats, and that his soul was going to break through the corporeal envelope of his body and wander off on its own again.
“Shen Wei,” came Zhao Yunlan’s voice like a lifeline through the violent waves of complex emotions raging inside of him.
Shen Wei blinked a few times, and Zhao Yunlan’s familiar and beloved face came into focus.
Breaking eye contact for the span of a few interminable seconds, Zhao Yunlan turned to Chu Shuzhi, who was holding up a black satin pillow atop of which lay their wedding rings, slightly more intricate than the golden bands that Shen Wei had produced when he had taken the leap and asked Zhao Yunlan for his hand. Zhao Yunlan had said that he would take care of finding the perfect rings for them, and Shen Wei was glad to have entrusted the mission to him: while these were also made of gold, they were mounted with a small yet very real diamond, and veined with onyx, the fine lines almost invisible to the eye as they glowed with the intricate and exquisite craftsmanship of the Snake tribe in a way that almost made them seem like they were alive. In all his long life, Shen Wei had never seen anything quite like it.
Though the snake lady would probably never admit to the fact if he asked, Shen Wei knew without the shadow of a doubt that Zhu Hong—who had been his rival in love, after a fashion—had played a part in this.
“Xiao Wei,” Zhao Yunlan called him again, and Shen Wei tore his gaze away from the pillow with difficulty.
In front of his eyes, Zhao Yunlan was looking expectantly at him, patient like he was to no one else.
Next to them, Lao Li, who had paused in his speech, asked the lovers if they were now ready to take each other as husbands—to hold and keep and love only the other in this life, and to follow him into the next one after death—and the simple answer, which had been burning the tips of their tongues, came out of their mouths as one voice while the rings left their pillow to glow brighter around the fingers of their new owners.
“You may now kiss your husb—”
Poor Lao Li had not finished his sentence that Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei had already thrown themselves at each other, their lips connecting perfectly as they had countless times before, like their sole purpose was to be joined. Overwhelmed with joy, the newly-wed husbands shared a tender, lingering kiss as they embraced each other tightly, and the guests erupted into cheers and leaped to their feet to congratulate their new union, but what most of them didn’t know was that the two men had already been bound to each other by fate long ago.
When they finally broke their kiss, Shen Wei took Zhao Yunlan’s hand, and the two lovers started down the aisle again.
On their way out, Papa Zhao, who had been greatly moved by the scene, stood from his seat and pulled Zhao Yunlan into a crushing embrace that the young man returned with fervent vigor as joyful tears pooled in his chestnut orbs.
‘I’m happy for you, son.’
Such simple words, these were—yet they spoke volumes.
After a great many hugs, and kisses, and tearful exchanges, the two of them finally broke apart, and Zhao Yunlan’s father returned to sit with his mother so that the newly-wed husbands may continue their walk until they reached the end of the aisle and the start of their new life. “X-Xiao Wei!” Zhao Yunlan laughed breathlessly, his long legs dangling wildly in mid-air after Shen Wei had picked him off the ground and gathered him up into his arms. “Put me down—”
“I thought this was what people did at weddings,” Shen Wei remarked over the sounds of applause and acclamation.
Breaking into another fit of uproarious laughter, Zhao Yunlan struggled to free himself from Shen Wei’s tight clutches. “It’s not a tradition that I’m aware of, Shen Wei—now let me go!”
But Shen Wei did not let go of him then, nor ever after that.
******
Grinning to himself from the nostalgia, Zhao Yunlan set down the picture frame that he had been staring at lovingly for the past minute, turning his head to look over his shoulder at the sound of incoming, socked feet on the hardwood floor.
“I can’t believe it’s already been five years. Time really flies… and now I sound like my old man,” Zhao Yunlan said in jest as Shen Wei crept into the room and approached him quietly. Wrapping his arms around Shen Wei’s broad shoulders, Zhao Yunlan nestled his face into the crook of his neck with a contented sigh, while Shen Wei’s own, strong arms circled his slender waist, his hands coming to rest over his shoulder blades. While the two husbands basked in each other’s warm presence, Zhao Yunlan lifted his open palm, turning it over to admire his wedding ring, which had not lost any of its lustre since the day when Shen Wei had slipped it on his finger.
To Zhao Yunlan, that memory was still extremely vivid.
“Dance with me a while,” Zhao Yunlan said, his voice muffled by the fabric of Shen Wei’s forest green cable knit sweater.
Shen Wei hummed softly in reply, and the two lovers began to move.
After they had swayed slowly for a moment to music that only they could hear, Zhao Yunlan broke the silence. “Do you remember that guy from the Crow tribe who had sneaked into our party after the ceremony and gotten into a squabble with Da Qing?” Zhao Yunlan asked. Shen Wei could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, and so he nodded faintly to indicate that he did, the movement of his cheek against the other’s temple giving him the answer that he sought. “...shows up unannounced and insults my cat…” Zhao Yunlan huffed incredulously. “...the nerve of this guy…”
“What was it that you had told him...?” Shen Wei asked as he slid his hands down to rest around the small of Zhao Yunlan’s back, not because he couldn’t recall, but because he wanted to hear it from him again.
Zhao Yunlan raised his head from where it rested on Shen Wei’s shoulder to grin at him.
“I said,” Zhao Yunlan began, then paused, giving Shen Wei a conspiratorial smile.
“.........‘Excuse me, who invited you?’” The two men mimicked as one voice, before bursting out laughing as they recalled the face the Crow had made when Zhu Hong’s Uncle Four had escorted him out.
“And then—” Shen Wei volunteered, chuckling as fragments of memories flooded back into his mind. “I remember Ah Zhi’s speech, that had really been penned by Da Qing. He was right, you know. You do clean up nicely.”
“Not as well as a cat, though,” sniggered Zhao Yunlan as he remembered the feline jab at his unkempt appearance.
Shen Wei chuckled again, then paused as he mulled over his thoughts, wearing a faraway smile.
“Our wedding night really brought you closer to your father, too,” Shen Wei said softly as he twirled Zhao Yunlan around, then wrapped him up again into a tight embrace.
At the time, a few glasses of wine into the evening, Papa Zhao and Zhao Yunlan had had a much-needed heart-to-heart, and their relationship had improved tremendously after that.
“Yeah, it was easily the best night of my life, for several reasons,” Zhao Yunlan agreed, his words heavy with meaning.
As they halted their dancing, Zhao Yunlan pulled Shen Wei in for a long, sensuous kiss, taking his hands off from where they had wandered off to on his nape to frame his face, while Shen Wei gripped Zhao Yunlan’s hips delicately and brought their bodies flush together. “Let’s continue this somewhere else,” Zhao Yunlan murmured after a while, and Shen Wei grunted in assent, nibbling at his lower lip one last time before picking him up into his arms with a small yelp of surprise from the other, then carrying him off towards their bedroom.
“We should make this a tradition,” Shen Wei suggested, bending down to capture Zhao Yunlan’s mouth again.
“Mm, I like the way you think,” Zhao Yunlan purred in reply. “..........hey, Xiao Wei?”
“Yes?”
“You’re my purpose, too, baby cakes.”
The end