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Shi Qingxuan carries sunshine in his pocket and hands it out like candy.
Some say he has to—that it comes with his job of being an idol. His fans, though, know not a single rude bone exists in his one-hundred-seventy-six centimeter body, prevalent from the soft smiles he sends their way as he performs and the hot drinks he hands out when they’ve been waiting outside on particularly cold days.
But no one sees it more than those close to him. Shi Qingxuan both in public and private, brightens up the room with his boundless energy.
“Qingxuan,” his manager knocks on his dressing room door. “You’re on in fifteen.”
“Ling Wennnn,” from his spinny chair, Shi Qingxuan rotates back and forth with nervous excitement. “There are a lot of people out there.”
“Mhmm,” Ling Wen nods her head, an eye on her notification-filled phone to watch the time. “You’ll be fine though, you’ve done this before.”
“I know but like,” Shi Qingxuan twirls a lock of chestnut hair around his finger, “it's scary.”
Ling Wen fixes him with a look—a proper one, with her cell phone turned off and no distracting buzzes. She steps into the room, heels clicking, and smoothes down a stray lock of Shi Qingxuan’s hair.
“Take a deep breath for me.”
Shi Qingxuan complies, shutting his eyes as well. The darkness allows him to focus on other sensations—Ling Wen’s fingers smoothing over his hair, the plush seat cushion underneath him, the whir of the air conditioner. When he blinks his eyes open, Ling Wen is still there hovering next to him, now with a gentle smile resting on her face. Her eyebags are ever-present—Shi Qingxuan can’t remember a time when he’d seen Ling Wen without eyebags—but covered by a tasteful amount of concealer.
“Okay?” She asks, meeting his gaze in the mirror.
“Yeah,” Shi Qingxuan nods, a smile of his own gracing his face.
“Good,” she turns on her heel, ponytail swishing, “you’re on in ten let’s go.”
Shi Qingxuan giggles to himself, glad to have a manager he knows cares for him, and hauls himself out of his chair.
He had a show to perform.
The bodyguards posted outside of his dressing room lead them through the hallway and to the back entrance of the stage. It’s Quan Yizhen and He Xuan today—a newer recruit with one of Shi Qingxuan’s long-time bodyguards—and Shi Qingxuan sends them smiles as he passes through the door.
“Wish me luck, you two!” he exclaims over his shoulder.
Quan Yizhen responds back just as enthusiastically with two thumbs up while He Xuan nods in his direction. Shi Qingxuan doesn’t think much of it—in his four-year long idol career he had yet to get more than a nod out of He Xuan. However, the bodyguard does his job well and Shi Qingxuan can tell beyond the nods that He Xuan genuinely cares about him too.
He had debuted as a soloist just over four years ago at seventeen under a small company established by his brother. Shi Wudu was an actor with a thriving career and after many long years under a large company, left to start his own. It was natural for him to want his younger brother to debut under the same company, but it was hard for Shi Qingxuan at the beginning with comment after comment accusing Shi Wudu of nepotism.
Still, he persisted. While his debut album only did moderately well, Shi Qingxuan’s recurring variety show appearances as well as some time spent hosting shows himself brought on fans attracted to his charisma.
It was a steady buildup to fame, strengthened by drama soundtracks and a soothing voice that critics said could calm anyone. Shi Qingxuan wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
His recent single hit the charts at third place and had since been rising with the steady support of his loyal fans. Yet despite the love he knew his fans held for him, Shi Qingxuan couldn’t help but get nervous before each performance with worries over disappointing them or messing up clouding his mind. It was thanks to the genius of Ling Wen that kept him grounded.
Shi Qingxuan steps onstage and waits for the lights to brighten and the music to start. Adrenaline rushes through his veins, hot and searing, and even with an earpiece in he can hear the buzz of excitement from the crowd.
The beat drops, and he begins.
Shi Qingxuan’s fans called him the Wind Master and themselves Leaves—something along the lines of the wind uplifting their spirits and carrying them through hard times.
It was a hotly debated argument between Leaves the best aspect of Shi Qingxuan, as subjective a thing it was.
His voice! Smooth and steady as a river, yet relaxing and soft like a puffy cloud.
Oh but his dance moves, another would say—drawing all eyes to him and captivating them with each gesture and wink thrown their way.
His looks, though—come on. With fluttering eyelashes and better skin than anyone had ever seen, Shi Qingxuan was a true vision.
The one thing, however, that left no room for debate was his live performances. Shi Qingxuan brought his sunny and—given the opportunity—flirtatious attitude to the stage with gusto. On more than one occasion, fans in the front row preached about his energy rolling off him in waves, extending to their outstretched hands and fan-shaped lightsticks.
To those who had the privilege of seeing him live in concert, this is what they would take home with them—Shi Qingxuan’s endless smiles and warmth that practically oozed out of him.
The performance draws to an end, with his chest heaving with the best kind of burn, Shi Qingxuan bows gratefully to his audience. Each smiling face waving up at him leaves him with a type of happiness that only exists within the moment.
“How did I do?” He presses Ling Wen as they head to his dressing room to get changed.
“You did well, Qingxuan,” she says with a smile.
He smiles back all the same, with a genuinity that never ceases.
As they leave the venue, Shi Qingxuan is not surprised to see his fans crowding the exit with a hope to get a glimpse of their beloved idol. He bows to each of them in thanks, for supporting him, taking the time out of their day to see him, for standing outside and waiting—really, the reasons were endless.
He admonishes them gently, shaking his head yet with a smile on his face, “You guys shouldn’t be waiting out here for me, you just saw me!”
“We love to see you, though!” They call back.
Shi Qingxuan laughs, there is nothing he could say to that.
He is technically forbidden by the company to accept gifts after shows—while it’s unlikely, there is still the risk of hate letters or potentially harmful “gifts” inside packages. It pains him all the same though so with some carefully planned puppy dog eyes, the rule got bent to the tokens getting screened before being passed on to him.
It’s his bodyguards that accept the ones within reach, and Shi Qingxuan is once again reminded of how grateful he is to have people who genuinely care and look out for him not just because it's in the job description.
“Shi Qingxuan.” He Xuan’s voice comes from next to him.
“Hm?” He turns as he’s waving goodbye to his fans, just in time to see a bouquet of flowers sail in front of his face.
Shi Qingxuan moves but He Xuan moves faster, catching the bouquet with an outstretched hand.
“Oh,” Shi Qingxuan says a little breathlessly. “Thank you.”
He Xuan nods, already moving on to accepting other letters and neatly wrapped bits and bobs and Shi Qingxuan feels his heart warm just a bit more.
The following weeks are spent with promotions, from photoshoots to fansigns, and Shi Qingxuan approaches each one with gusto.
The shoots are the most tiring, being under lights all day with just the photographer and staff, but he makes do with conversation and lots of green tea. They’re still fun in their own way though, and he doesn’t even mind the brand promos that he knows he would later cringe over.
The fansigns, of course, are an absolute delight. Getting to chat with his fans one on one, even for a brief moment, brought an insurmountable amount of joy.
“Hi!” He waves as she places a flower crown atop his curls. He takes her album but pauses before beginning to sign it.
She mumbles out her own greeting, cheeks visibly reddening.
There were normally two types of fans that came to his fansigns—the closed-mouth, too-shy-to-speak fans or the enthusiastic, I-can’t-believe-this-is-happening fans.
The girl in front of him is clearly the former.
Shi Qingxuan takes the initiative, “How are you doing today?”
“G-good—I’m good,” she whispers. “You’re Shi Qingxuan.”
He giggles, squeezing her hand gently, “I mean I’d hope so. What’s your name?”
She cracks a smile at that, “Ban Yue. You’re my biggest inspiration.”
Shi Qingxuan’s heart softens on the spot, and he squeezes her hand again in encouragement.
Dear Ban Yue, he begins to write.
“I sang one of your songs— Set Me Free —at a school talent show,” her brows furrow, but her speech picks up. “It was the scariest thing of my life, but I would do it again a hundred times.”
He smiles, pearly white teeth and all, and gives her hand one last squeeze. “Thank you so much, I’m so glad to hear that! I wish I had been there, I'm sure it was very good.”
I wish you all the best in your school endeavors and more.
She flushes, “If you’d like, I can tag you in the video and post it…?”
“Wrap it up soon,” the voice of one of the fansign moderators cuts in.
Shi Qingxuan mentally rolls his eyes, they were having a conversation—how rude!
Let’s both do our best!
And with a flourish, Your biggest fan, Shi Qingxuan ❤
“That would be lovely,” he responds to Ban Yue, handing her her album as she shakily makes her way to leave.
She nods again, smiling and waving goodbye as she departs.
With a contented sigh, Shi Qingxuan waves as the next fan approaches.
He signs album after album, making sure to both take in what his fans have to say while also making sure he adds in his own words of love and encouragement.
He takes care in keeping each comment and message genuine, trying his best to write in response to the snippets of their life they share with him. It’s the least he can do for those who have kept up with his own life and are pretty much the entire reason he’s where he is today.
On more than one occasion, he can feel the flower crown from Ban Yue or ribboned bunny ears among other accessories perched on his head slip down as he leans over albums to scrawl out his heartfelt words. Yet each time they fall over his eyes, they’re secured back in place by a tender hand.
Shi Qingxuan finally has a couple of days off after weeks of promotion and while he takes some time to rest and soak up the sun, he also spends time figuring out how to thank his staff and support system.
“Ling Wen,” Shi Qingxuan scrolls through restaurant options on his phone. “What’s a good restaurant to treat everyone to?”
She had stopped by his apartment to discuss future plans, but it had mostly resulted in Shi Qingxuan serving her tea and cookies and them gossipping.
“Do you have the money to treat everyone?” She asks. If not for the smile that accompanied her teasing tone, Shi Qingxuan would have been highly offended.
“I can afford dinner!” He humphs back.
Ling Wen arches an eyebrow as if she wasn’t the one who also oversaw a majority of his income, and whips out her own phone.
“There’s a new hotpot place that opened up. Four point eight out of five stars with over two hundred reviews. Reservations are pretty hard to get, but I can make something work,” she winks.
“Oh that sounds good! Okay so I’m thinking, you—obviously—all of the bodyguards, but definitely not Pei Ming,” Shi Qingxuan scrunches his nose at the thought of his rowdy senior. “I guess Hua Cheng? Like, if he wants. Oh, and A-Lian of course.”
Hua Cheng does not work directly for Shi Wudu, but under his own private PR company. He mostly stayed out of the public eye, but did a lot of the behind the scenes work for Shi Qingxuan. They had met through Shi Qingxuan’s now-retired idol friend Xie Lian who Hua Cheng also did public relations for. However, with Xie Lian’s retirement spurred by his marriage to Hua Cheng, the couple preferred to spend their time together than around others and as their friend, Shi Qingxuan was okay with it. Maybe the dinner would draw the two of them out.
Ling Wen takes it all down, tapping away on her screen. “You want all of the bodyguards to be there? You realize your brother has hired upwards of thirty by now.”
“Oh,” Shi Qingxuan might be making money but maybe not enough for enough hotpot to feed over thirty grown adults.
“I mean you could afford it if you use the company credit card.”
“Ugh but that means I’d have to rope Ge into this too,” Shi Qingxuan sighs. He loves his brother, but Shi Wudu could get overbearing very quickly.
“How about this,” Ling Wen takes a sip of her tea. “We keep the dinner to those you're more acquainted with, and I can arrange for gift bags to be handed out to the other staff. We can go over what you want in them so you have a say in it too.”
“Where would I be without you?” Shi Qingxuan massages his forehead. “Yeah, that actually sounds a lot better.”
Ling Wen nods, “So given that, are there any specific bodyguards you want there?”
“Oh! Quan Yizhen, the new boy, he’s super fun and I like his vibes. He Xuan,” Shi Qingxuan snaps his fingers. “He always looks out for me.”
Ling Wen smiles knowingly, “He does, doesn’t he?”
“What’s with that face?” Shi Qingxuan narrows his eyes.
“I’m not making any face,” Ling Wen shakes her head, becoming immediately interested in her phone.
Shi Qingxuan hums but doesn’t pursue it any further. She was right though, He Xuan was always just there ready to take up gifts or steady him after hopping off the stage. Now that he thought of it, none of the other bodyguards ever got as close as He Xuan did. Huh.
Is it a seniority thing? He doesn’t know. But there’s a feeling of tingly satisfaction that comes with the thought of being in the hands of someone who knew him and his quirks as well as He Xuan. It feels so, well, safe.
They set the date for the last day of his off period, and while it’s short notice, everyone replies with yesses. Shi Qingxuan is ecstatic.
The restaurant had been gracious enough to put their table in a private room, so they could avoid curious gazes and any people who might recognize Shi Qingxuan.
He arrives only a little late—it took him longer to pick an outfit than he thought it would—but everyone is already seated as he follows the maître d' to the table.
“Hello everyone, thanks for coming!” He smiles and hurriedly gestures at Quan Yizhen to sit down when the younger boy stands to bow.
“Lord Wind Master,” Hua Cheng smiles, his uncovered eye glittering with unspoken amusement.
“Oh hush with the lord,” Shi Qingxuan swats at him lightly. “Where’s A-Lian?”
The red-suited man’s husband is not at his usual place by his side.
“Ah, Gege sends his regards but he got called in to cat-sit ,” Hua Cheng spits the phrase out as if it's poison. “I would have stayed with him, but he told me I couldn’t not come, so I’m here.”
Shi Qingxuan laughs shakily as Hua Cheng tucks his clasped hands under his chin with what seems to be a fake smile stretched across his face. In his years of knowing Hua Cheng, he is as hard to read as ever.
“Please sit down,” Hua Cheng gestures to one of the center seats, next to Quan Yizhen. “We saved the seat of honor for you.”
Shi Qingxuan bows his head and circles the table, pulling out the chair. “Thank you for saving this seat for me, Yizhen.”
“No problem at all, Shi-xiong.” Quan Yizhen shakes his head. “But it was He-xiong who did it.”
He Xuan, who had remained silent seated next to Hua Cheng, bristles immediately and reaches for his glass of water.
“Oh!” Shi Qingxuan turns to the man across from him and smiles, “Thank you He Xuan.”
While his face remains stoic, the tips of He Xuan’s ears darken and he nods stiffly.
If Shi Qingxuan’s gaze had lingered just a bit longer, he would have seen the piercing glare He Xuan fixes on Quan Yizhen.
They order lots of food —yin-yang pots scatter their table, filled to the brim with spicy and savory broths. Shi Qingxuan takes in each bite, chewing slowly and listening attentively to the conversations on either side of him.
“Here,” He Xuan, who had been eating quite his fill, takes slices of beef from his side of one of the pots and Shi Qingxuan finds himself instinctively extending his own bowl for the bodyguard to place them in. “You’re just sipping on broth and nibbling cabbage, you need protein.”
“Oh,” Shi Qingxuan stares down at the beef, watching the hot broth swirl over the thin slices.
“Sorry, do you not like spicy broth? I can get you a new bowl and just add the meat to your side.”
Shi Qingxuan blinks, still processing He Xuan’s words. It’s not like he hasn’t had a conversation with the bodyguard before, but this degree of attention and care is not something he expected.
“No!” He says a little loudly, wincing at the attention his outburst draws. “I just—I haven’t really had spicy food in a while, it makes me bloated so my dietician told me to stay away.”
He Xuan frowns slightly, only for a second before his mask is back in place. “Your dietician isn’t here now though, right? And this is a celebratory dinner of sorts, so I think you should be fine.”
Shi Qingxuan stares for a moment before throwing his head back and laughing. “You’ve made your point, He Xuan! Alright, send your broth over.”
And whether it’s because he hasn’t had spicy hotpot in a while, or because his bowl was prepared by He Xuan, it’s the best food he eats all evening.
Dinner dwindles down to only five of them—Shi Qingxuan, Hua Cheng, He Xuan, Quan Yizhen, and of course, Ling Wen—so they decide to relocate to a nearby cafe for coffee and dessert.
Opting for a black tea with his chiffon cake, Shi Qingxuan hums happily at the company he’s with. The conversation flows easily and nothing feels forced—not even the smiles. Quan Yizhen in his youthful bluntness spills stories from his high school days that leave Shi Qingxuan with his sides in stiches.
“So Lord Wind Master,” Hua Cheng redirects the conversation and evades another playful swat. “Any plans for the next album?”
“Oh my god, you did not just bring up work,” Shi Qingxuan groans. “I mean I love my job but come onnnn.”
Hua Cheng says nothing, only choosing to shrug and take a sip of his espresso.
“I’m thinking of doing like a grunge-y concept if you must know,” Shi Qingxuan pokes at a strawberry with his fork. “I’ve been into crunchy guitar sounds for a while now and want to try and incorporate some into my next title track.”
He sighs, letting his shoulders droop, “Of course, I don’t know if a lot of fans will be pleased with a huge change like that. They know me for my ballads and stuff, you know?”
“Well why are you doing it for them, though?” He Xuan cuts in.
“Excuse me?” Shi Qingxun frowns at the barbed comment.
“No, well I mean—” He Xuan corrects himself, “You’re the artist. We— they are the fans. Even though the fans are the ones who take in the music, in the end it’s your music.”
He sips his own tea—darjeeling—and continues, “If you want to make music for your fans there’s nothing wrong with that, but it shouldn’t hinder your creative desires.”
Shi Qingxuan pauses, opening and closing his mouth as he tries to find the correct words because He Xuan was right. He had managed to dispel all of Shi Qingxuan’s initial worries with just a few sentences.
“Wow, that was pretty profound,” Hua Cheng speaks up. “Good job, buddy.”
He Xuan makes an indignant grunt from the back of his throat as Hua Cheng pats him on the back.
“He’s your biggest fan, you know.” Hua Cheng remarks with a smirk.
“Don’t—” He Xuan hisses.
Shi Qingxuan tilts his head, “He Xuan…?”
“Got your albums and everything. I’m gonna say at least five of each.” Hua Cheng continues, not sparing a glance in the direction of his friend.
“You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!” He Xuan avoids the looks of confusion Shi Qingxuan flashes his way, focusing on jabbing Hua Cheng with his elbow.
“And it's ten,” he mumbles out as an afterthought.
Hua Cheng laughs and having expertly maneuvered out of the way with practiced ease, his smirk only grows. “Oh but Shi Qingxuan isn’t just anyone to you, right?”
He Xuan flushes, to an untrained eye it wouldn’t seem as much, but this time Shi Qingxuan can see that the flush extends from his ears to his cheeks.
“Whoa how come I didn’t know this?!” Shi Qingxuan gapes at He Xuan who visibly winces under the attention.
“...you never asked.”
“Well that’s a little haughty, dontcha think? Marching up to someone who works for me and asking if they’re a fan of my work.”
The red tinging He Xuan’s face grows an even deeper shade.
“Qingxuan,” Ling Wen places a hand on his shoulder. “It’s gotten late so I’ve got to get going.”
“Oh wow time really did fly, huh?” Shi Qingxuan exclaims. “You all go, shoo, now. I don’t want you in my sight anymore. Go to bed!”
The table stifles their laughter at his change of attitude but all stand anyway to gather their belongings.
“Do you want me to call you a taxi?” Ling Wen holds her phone up.
“No, it’s alright, I can walk.” He waves her off, she always does so much for him. “My apartment’s pretty close anyways.”
“Qingxuan,” she starts.
“I can accompany him.” He Xuan interrupts.
Ling Wen pauses at the numberpad, “If he’s okay with it I don’t see a problem…?”
“I’m okay with it!” Shi Qingxuan bobs his head.
They wave their goodbyes, Hua Cheng leaving with a salute and a whisper of something in He Xuan’s ear that leaves the bodyguard fuming.
“Thank you, He Xuan.” Shi Qingxuan smiles.
His heart drums in his chest just a pace faster when He Xuan returns the smile. “It’s my job, isn’t it?”
“Well yes, but not just for walking with me and protecting me. I can tell you sincerely care about me.” Shi Qingxuan continues, giggling softly. “I guess learning you’re a fan sort of makes it more understandable.”
“I didn’t—” He Xuan stops himself in his tracks.
“Hm?” Shi Qingxuan stumbles at the abrupt stop and He Xuan instantly grabs his wrist to steady him.
“Oh sorry,” He Xuan lets go as Shi Qingxuan regains his balance, only for his hand to be reclaimed by Shi Qingxuan’s.
“Go on,” Shi Qingxuan squeezes the other man’s hand.
“I didn’t become your bodyguard because I’m some sort of weird superfan that wanted to get close to you,” He Xuan begins again. “I guess it was sort of like a gradual thing? Like I knew of you when I started but the more I saw of you and your passion and kindness, the bigger of a fan I became…?”
“Mhmm, I got you,” Shi Qingxuan nods in understanding.
“Oh god, I can’t believe I said that.” He Xuan facepalms with the hand that’s not clasped between Shi Qingxuan’s own.
“No, it’s okay, I think it’s really sweet.”
“You—” He Xuan splutters, “Never mind, let’s go, you need to get home.”
Shi Qingxuan hums to himself, refusing to return He Xuan’s hand as he swings their entwined fingers to some imaginary beat.
As they draw closer to his front door, the more Shi Qingxuan wishes they could spend more time together. He wants to get to know He Xuan, not just as his bodyguard or his fan but just as He Xuan.
“Well, this is where we part I guess,” Shi Qingxuan sighs. “This was fun, we should do it again!”
“Oh, uh, yeah. Quan Yizhen had some good stories,” He Xuan nods.
“No silly, I mean like just us!”
“Us… just us…?” He Xuan parrots back.
“Mhmm!” Shi Qingxuan stares up into He Xuan’s warm eyes. Maybe if he stares hard enough He Xuan will understand. “Oh and before I forget, you can be a little more informal with me, ya know.”
He Xuan’s already pale skin pales even further, “I mean if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure! Go on, let’s try now!”
“Qingxuan.”
“Mm, too formal, try again.”
“Shi-ge…”
“Sorry, who is that?”
“...A–A-Xuan.”
“Ooh better, I like that one.”
He Xuan is very clearly having some trouble, seemingly torn at calling the person who’s basically his boss so informally but his lips are tugged into a small smile.
“Alright, A-Xuan,” It’s He Xuan’s turn to surprise Shi Qingxuan as he swoops down to close the distance between them and press a soft kiss to Shi Qingxuan’s cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Ah, yeah, to–tomorrow it is.” Shi Qingxuan babbles, his hand reaching up to the place on his cheek that burns where He Xuan’s lips had just been.
All he can do is watch as the moonlight leads a path for his new blooming love, walking away with a promise of their future tucked in his pocket.