Chapter Text
Mu Qing did not know what to make about this turn of events. A letter in his hand, read over for at least six times, the words scribed in elegant handwriting. It was already the twenty-first century, but Mei Nianqing still preferred handwriting a letter to his people. Mu Qing liked the sentiment, no matter how baffling it might be, but the content of the letter he was holding now made him utterly speechless.
Suggestion of a betrothal? Please don’t be joking around, sir.
He knew of the Xian Le family from his adoptive father’s mentioning every now and then. He knew Mei Nianqing adored Xie Lian, the first son of the family, because–and he quoted straight out of Mei Nianqing–the boy was truly a heaven’s blessing, noble and gracious whom mortals might or might not be depending on. Mu Qing shivered the first time he heard it. Mei Nianqing commented such, only in passing, though, not meaning to make Mu Qing feel inferior to this person he had never met before. Mu Qing knew Mei Nianqing might be exaggerating, as he always were. Still, such comments made Mu Qing want to do better than this figure his adoptive father often spoke so highly of.
Although, Mei Nianqing had sighed his longest sigh when he heard of Xie Lian’s involvement with a certain “Crimson Devil”–again, quoting straight out of Mei Nianqing, exaggerating as always–and Mu Qing’s adoptive father was all forlorn and downtrodden for weeks as if he just lost his precious jade. Mu Qing had done his best to console him.
The letter stated, What if you consider a marriage to the Xian Le family? Do you think you would be okay with this?
If he was drawn in a panel of some comic strips, there would be a huge ??? over his head right after he read those lines. This really had to be a joke.
And he continued on his thoughts to Mei Nianqing’s suggestion for him to be married to Xie Lian’s adopted brother, Feng Xin. Mu Qing never met the guy, only heard of his name from Mei Nianqing, but not as often as he would Xie Lian. Apparently, Feng Xin was younger than Xie Lian by just a few months, so around Mu Qing’s age too. Though Feng Xin was adored by Xian Le family, Mei Nianqing once called the boy a brat, only that one time though–till this day Mu Qing did not know what that was all about.
After regaining his sense from such shock of a letter, Mu Qing decided to look up the name on the search bar. He knew the Xian Le family was pretty private about their own affairs, but there should still be some little information here and there. He found a picture of two boys, a public social media post, of one smiling warmly with all grace and everything good, and one as handsome with quiet and calm demeanor although some subtle warm edges on his features. They could be Xie Lian and Feng Xin. Other than that one picture, there was nothing else.
Quietly, he saved the picture into his phone.
He thought solemnly about his filial duty to his guardian; without a strong reason, he could not just simply deny Mei Nianqing any of his requests. He thought about how Mei Nianqing had been the only cavalry he had, who just kept on giving, who saved him from the lowest point of his life. When Mu Qing’s mother died fighting a losing battle with her illness, Mu Qing was only thirteen. Mei Nianqing was Mu Qing’s mother’s mentor who heard about her passing, leaving behind her only child. Before the foster care took the thirteen years-old in, Mei Nianqing quickly signed up to be his legal guardian, taking him in his own household, being his parent and mentor at the same time. Mu Qing knew he could never pay back such a great debt, but he still would wish Mei Nianqing knew that Mu Qing’s eternal gratefulness was something he would put in the front, first and foremost. Mu Qing wrote his answer in another letter, in the hope of this could be considered as a way of giving back to his adoptive father after all he had done for him.
It was one January’s evening when Mu Qing found himself walking into a humble restaurant, looking up to see if any of the patrons might look like the one in the picture on his phone he had observed over a countless times. And there was one with the same handsome features, wearing a crisp chocolate button-down, long hair snuggled tightly into a nice and collected bun. Mu Qing walked slowly to the table.
The man stood up when he caught sight of him.
“Mu Qing?” he asked.
Mu Qing nodded. “Feng Xin,” he greeted.
The man seemed to be stunned for some seconds, and Mu Qing surprisingly did not know what to make of it. He–although it was a little shameful to admit–had been careful with his appearance for this particular night. Mu Qing was wearing black suit jacket, with a red shirt underneath forgoing the tie. He braided one side of his hair and looped it back to a ponytail. While he was pulling his own chair, Mu Qing missed the look of awe from the other man.
Feng Xin seemed to be coming back from his out-of-body experience when the man cleared his throat and offered the menu. Mu Qing picked one of the specialties and Feng Xin picked a different one. “Wine?” Feng Xin asked.
“Champagne is fine,” Mu Qing politely answered.
“Make that two,” Feng Xin said to the waiter.
Waiting for the food, Mu Qing observed the surroundings. The restaurant was nice, the food fragrant and the atmosphere held a sophisticated calm to it. There was a grand piano in one corner, the melody naturally chimed him into a much needed serenity. Mu Qing felt like he could forget about everything and nothing. Once his sight turned back to the one across from him, he thought that, Maybe this could be a pleasant evening after all.
Feng Xin started small talk, asking and telling Mu Qing about how everything was going. Basic introductions, interests or omittances, likes and dislikes, Mu Qing listened with attention and responded with care. Feng Xin seemed like a good conversationalist, which Mu Qing would not give the same credit for himself–he was no good with words. However, Feng Xin engaged Mu Qing subconsciously with some topics he would not be approaching consciously. Before he knew it, feeling satisfied with the food, a glass of champagne in his hand, Mu Qing was debating the man about little things.
It was fresh. It was new.
“Why did you agree on the arranged marriage?” Feng Xin asked him during a lull in their little banter.
Mu Qing took a small sip of the champagne. “I did not agree on the marriage,” yet. “I agreed on considering it.”
Feng Xin was silent, for seconds longer than Mu Qing had ever found him tonight.
“This was Mei Nianqing’s request and I owe him so much. I am trying to fulfill his wishes in any way I am capable of,” Mu Qing continued without waiting for any more response from Feng Xin.
“Same reason.” And then Feng Xin smiled, as though unconsciously, looking to the distance, as if assuring himself that he was in good hands all this time.
Now, Mu Qing was the one at a loss for words, because the sight he was seeing made him feel taken aback. In short, Feng Xin had a really nice smile. It was unconscious and directed at anything in particular, but still. Mu Qing took another sip of his bubbly drink.
He let Feng Xin pay this time, only because the man insisted, and Mu Qing was too weak in his defense after all those champagne. He promised himself, the next one would be on him, before catching himself about thinking about the next time.
When he had gotten home, he laid down on his couch, typing a text to Mei Nianqing–for once, It was okay. I feel it will be okay to fulfill your wish, Father.
He tapped send and passed out with a light heart.
“I am so glad to finally meet you!” was what Xie Lian said before gathering Mu Qing in his arms.
Oh, a hugger, Mu Qing thought warmly.
“Mei Nianqing told me so much about you! All the nicest things. And now Feng Xin too,” Xie Lian said. Mu Qing never pictured this one noble and gracious who was unworthy of mortals beneath his feet could possibly be the winking type of person, but here they were.
“Xiongzhang,” Feng Xin said shortly, a little bit bashful, but Mu Qing brushed it off.
They had been texting back and forth, with a few short calls in between breaks, asking what the other had been doing. Feng Xin sometimes sent Mu Qing things that made himself laughing, and Mu Qing was confused at first before getting what it was all about then thinking He’s so stupid, not realizing that he had been smiling fondly to himself. Mu Qing on the other hand, liked to share pictures of delicious food–some that he made on his own, some he found in a restaurant he was passing by, or some internet recipe he was trying to ace. Every other day they shared what kind of music they were ardently listening to at that moment, exchanging strong opinions over what they found good.
It should be scary to get this comfortably familiar with the other man, Mu Qing had thought, but when he found himself smiling while thinking that Feng Xin’s highlight of the day could be something as ridiculous as being asked some trivia quizzes by a random kid in the park near his own house, Mu Qing had thought he did not mind.
“Hey,” Mu Qing greeted the man.
“Hello. Um–you look good today,” Feng Xin said.
Mu Qing was not able to respond, because Xie Lian was ushering them to sit side by side on the kitchen aisle where he was apparently cooking, but there were bubbles and vapory smoke everywhere. A man in a red hoodie carefully looked after the bubbling pot and turned off the stove beside it that had been generating smoke for some while now, a suspiciously charred pan on it.
“Gege, I think the dinner is ready,” said the man. The way he said ‘Gege’, gave Mu Qing the same kind of shiver as when Mei Nianqing called Xie Lian a heaven’s blessing, perhaps even worse because clearly there was affection dripping out of the man’s mouth when he called Xie Lian as such.
“Oh, great! Just in time. San Lang, let me take it from here,” Xie Lian told him with flurried steps. ‘San Lang’, despite Xie Lian’s words, stood carefully with great attention to him, ready at his beck and call.
Feng Xin poked him before leaning in to whisper to his ear, Mu Qing stilled. “Xie Lian’s cooking is really out of this world, please brace yourself and don’t comment on it, lest you’ll see your end with Hua Cheng in it.” The rush of Feng Xin’s breath saying all urgency onto Mu Qing’s ear, made him a little ticklish, he thought he wanted to giggle despite everything. “Again, I’m sorry in advance,” Feng Xin added earnestly.
Mu Qing gulped, for many, many reasons.
Dinner was terrible, but Xie Lian was very pleasant. Mu Qing found himself agreeing with Mei Nianqing on his sentiment about the man. Although, Xie Lian in person was a little bit clumsy for his own good, but it was actually adorable when he thought about it; besides, Hua Cheng seemed ready to catch him at any time.
The four of them exchanged stories about almost everything. Mu Qing occasionally provided from his own side, while basking in every information shared by the other three. Feng Xin was made flustered every now and then by Xie Lian–and sometimes Hua Cheng–and Mu Qing found himself enjoying the night despite the ongoing indigestion caused by Xie Lian’s cooking.
Sometimes later, Feng Xin offered Mu Qing some digestive tabs, silently trying to approach him with more apology for dragging him into this. Mu Qing took it without any comment.
That was not the last thing Feng Xin offered to him that night. While walking him to his car, Feng Xin called out slowly.
“Since you are agreeing with our families’ mutual arrangement, I have something for you. Would you like to take it?” Feng Xin asked.
“Depends on what it is,” Mu Qing only replied.
Feng Xin pulled out a small box from his jacket, he opened it before pushing it towards Mu Qing. “It’s not much, but if you’d bring these to our ceremony, perhaps it would be nice.”
A pair of matching silver bands were inside the box, engraved on the sides and each ring adorned with a small stone, one ruby, one sapphire. They were beautiful.
This is really happening, huh, Mu Qing mentally thought.
His face flushed from the cold. Holding himself back from shivering, he said, “Thank you, Feng Xin,” looking at the pair of cold rings standing still inside that box, unwittingly appreciating the taste. He realized he had not given him any answer yet. “Maybe. It would be very nice indeed.”
Feng Xin beamed at him under the moonlight, and Mu Qing thought to himself, Damn, it’s really unfair that he has nothing unlikeable about him.
After a series of family meetings and paperwork, in between countless little hangouts, Mu Qing found himself getting familiarized with Feng Xin. But also not quite. Some days, he could relish in all the familiarity, some other, Feng Xin pissed the heck out of him. But he might have to learn to tolerate those, the good and the bad.
They argued over the littlest things, like what good menu was, who should be paying for the checks for their little dates, who should be walking on a certain side of the sidewalk, who should be picking up whom, or if one was dressed warm enough, and countless others–neither would back down from telling the other to just shut up and let things be.
One time, they argued over their living arrangement, and Mu Qing begrudgingly agreed on Feng Xin’s suggestion to live in Feng Xin’s apartment since it would be more convenient that way. The winning smirk on Feng Xin’s smug face was one of the things that would definitely give Mu Qing nightmares.
Feng Xin also seemingly learnt how to apologize when Mu Qing’s eye-rolling habit turned into that one look of hurt–lips tight in thin lines, trying to even his own breaths over how tired he was arguing with words he had not been really fond of saying to others. Feng Xin was too daft to notice at first, but when he got a taste of Mu Qing’s silent treatment, he noticed that this was not their usual thing, at all. The next day, before going out to work, Mu Qing would find his doorknob heavier than how it usually was, because there was something hanging on it, either a tied-on-a-string flower or little trinkets with Mu Qing’s favorite color or those bakery goods Mu Qing commented on in passing.
They got married in May, right at the end of spring, a small ceremony attended by only close friends and families to witness their union. Mei Nianqing smiled his fatherly smile at them, a slight of watchful eye kept on Feng Xin, while Mu Qing tried to hold back his overwhelming emotions. Feng Xin joined their hands for the first time, comforting as its first impression.
He still could not believe that this was really happening, looking at Feng Xin to his right, opening the familiar door to Feng Xin’s apartment, where Mu Qing’s things were already waiting inside a spare room they had assigned as Mu Qing’s now. They had agreed on it amiably, dodging away their own subtle shyness over having to share a room together in mutual relief.
Or so he thought, when he glanced back to see Feng Xin looking at Mu Qing walking alone before the doorway of his own room, Feng Xin wearing the usual stupidly-staring-into-space expression, before snapping out of it.
Mu Qing was too washed up after the ceremony that day, he did not even have the energy to reject Feng Xin when he called him back and offered him a glass of wine with a tired smile.
The next morning, Mu Qing woke up in a bed he did not remember crawling into, within the warmth of his usual blanket he brought in from his own old home.
There was no blatant change in both of their lives after their marriage status had changed. Feng Xin was still an annoying little shit in Mu Qing’s eyes; he knew now that the man used to live off take-outs and the occasional Xie Lian’s terrible cooking. Mu Qing helplessly sighed at his fate. He was reminded of Xie Lian’s teary and determined words of, Feng Xin is in your care now, a chilling smile on the big brother’s face, slowly adopting the demeanor of that red-clad boyfriend of his.
Mu Qing remembered taking it out on Feng Xin by pulling out that usual tight bun of his, strong enough to make the little brother yelp and curse at him, to which he replied with nothing more than his usual eye-rolls. He felt calmer to be back in the familiarity again.
Standing in the kitchen, looking up some recipes on the internet with what they have in the pantry, Mu Qing turned to look over his shoulder to a sleepy Feng Xin.
“It’s your turn to do grocery runs,” Mu Qing said expressionlessly. “Make sure to get everything, don’t make me run a second to cover what you’ve missed to buy,” he added with the littlest bite.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Feng Xin yawned. “If you’re so concerned and untrusting, why don’t you just run along with me to the store. Save both of us from your future grief.”
“Good try, but no,” Mu Qing deadpanned. “Make yourself useful for once. Prove me wrong.”
It might be intentional or not at all, but Feng Xin missed the first thing on the list, irritating Mu Qing to no end. That Sunday afternoon, he was grumpy when he picked up three cartons of eggs, Feng Xin pushing the cart beside him. After they got back home, Mu Qing was organizing the pantry with haughty huff when he found some chocolate bars he did not remember picking.
Dumbass, he thought as he bit into the sweet, quickly melting in his mouth.
Not that Mu Qing never tried to be civil with the man, but between the two of them, if they were not bickering over any other things, they would not be Feng Xin and Mu Qing. It was familiar. It was convenient. It was comfortable. Mu Qing would not wish to trade the world for anything else other than this.