Chapter Text
A text conversation (Tuesday, June 13, 2016)
[While the previous texts were sent rapidfire, almost real-time, there was a several-minute long pause here. Feng Xin started typing, then stopped. Deleted it and started over. Started typing. Stopped. Finally—]
–
Feng Xin couldn’t even remember the last time Mu Qing had hung out with him one-on-one. Voluntarily. They still saw each other, of course, but always through Xie Lian. When Xie Lian invited one of them out, he had almost certainly invited the other. The three of them would grab drinks at the end of the day, when Mu Qing wasn’t working overtime and Xie Lian didn’t have a shift at his second job and Feng Xin didn’t have a client who wanted an evening training session. Sometimes they all got together to see a movie Xie Lian wanted to see, or try a restaurant Xie Lian wanted to try.
As always, Xie Lian was the glue that held their friend group (if one could call it that) together.
So they went out for drinks or food or movies, and Feng Xin and Mu Qing mostly glowered at each other from opposite corners of the table like two betta fish in the same tank. Invariably they started squabbling, which Xie Lian was always quick to shut down. It never lasted long though. They could fight over anything.
A scroll through their text history would reveal a string of one-offs, several months apart.
We’re at the food court. Xie Lian’s phone is dead.
FYI I’m planning on buying Xie Lian the blender he said he wanted for his birthday, so DON’T buy him one.
I don’t care what you say, cereal is not fucking soup. Fuck you.
The last time they’d really talked regularly, just the two of them, had been their second year at university. They had talked almost every night, then. Hushed conversations, wrung out and exhausted and desperate.
Feng Xin didn’t like to think about that time.
But now they were talking again. Only for the past few months, and only about one particular subject, but they were talking. Xie Lian would probably be pleased to hear it. (Less so if he knew what, exactly, they were discussing.)
Mu Qing was already seated at a booth when Feng Xin arrived at the cafe, in his annoyingly expensive-looking suit. He was tapping away at his phone because heaven forbid he actually step away from work for half an hour. No, he was too important for that! Mu Qing, with his fancy job at some fancy financial company, who attended happy hours with his similarly-suited coworkers and was too busy and important most of the time to hang out with them any more.
Mu Qing’s eyes flicked up as Feng Xin made his way over to the table. For some inexplicable, out of nowhere reason, the thought that popped into Feng Xin’s head was, he looks good. He’d always been pretty, but not in like, a normal way. In a frustrating way. In Feng Xin’s expert opinion, someone with such a sour personality didn’t deserve to have such angelic features. It was just plain misleading! He looked like a cover model when he was lost in thought, like a marble sculpture in a museum whose beauty visitors had spent the past thousand years praising, but then he invariably opened his mouth and bitched someone out over something stupid, and the illusion vanished.
He hadn’t noticed Feng Xin yet. He was still looking down at his phone, his eyelashes a dark, perfect fan. He’d always had such long eyelashes.
Some part of Feng Xin’s brain threw the brakes on this weird line of thought. Stuff it away and don’t think about it any more, brain! Thank you! He looks healthy, he corrected mentally. The dark circles under Mu Qing’s eyes were mostly gone, so he must be getting enough sleep for once.
“Hey,” said Feng Xin, sliding his way into the booth.
With no preamble, Mu Qing said, “You’re not going to believe this.”
“What, you can’t say hello?”
Mu Qing rolled his eyes. He had been doing that since middle school, when the three of them had met. You’d think, now that he was twenty-three and working a respectable job with a very respectable salary, he would have outgrown the habit.
Feng Xin picked up his straw and started ramming it against the table until it popped out of its wrapper. “Look, I had to move a session for this, the least you can do—”
“It’s San Lang.”
Feng Xin froze. He’d known who it would be about, of course. That was all they talked about, nowadays. The reason they had started talking again in the first place.
San Lang, if that was his real name, had appeared seemingly out of nowhere and embedded himself in every aspect of Xie Lian’s life. In the span of a few weeks Xie Lian had bashfully gone from “I met someone,” to all San Lang, all the time. Every time they talked he had a new story about some lavish date the man had taken him on. San Lang took him wine tasting! San Lang took him on a hot air balloon! Each date was more ridiculous than the last. And it wasn’t that Xie Lian didn’t deserve those things—he did! He deserved to have anything he wanted! But Feng Xin had gotten a sinking feeling that there were strings attached here. They just hadn’t revealed themselves yet.
More than that, the man was showering him with gifts. Feng Xin had been over to Xie Lian’s apartment a few weeks into the San Lang Lovefest, only to see an enormous TV, still in the box.
“Ah,” Xie Lian had said, looking a little embarrassed, “I told San Lang there was a show I wanted to watch, and I’ve been having trouble on my phone because, you know, the headphone jack’s been broken. And when I came home he had gotten me a whole TV! It’s a little excessive, isn’t it?”
“But you got a new phone too?” said Feng Xin. Xie Lian’s old phone’s screen had been cracked, but he had always insisted that it was fine, it was perfectly usable! The phone in his hand looked shiny and new though, some sleek model he didn’t even recognize.
“Oh,” said Xie Lian, looking even more embarrassed, “Yes, San Lang was concerned that if the glass started to fall off my old screen—you know, for safety reasons—”
“Hey,” Feng Xin had said, heart sinking. “If you were concerned about safety, I would have chipped in… I’m sure Mu Qing would have too—”
They would have helped. Anything Xie Lian wanted, they would have found a way to get it. But he had never asked. Should they have known, anyway?
San Lang hadn’t waited for him to ask. San Lang had seen he needed something, and bought it.
“Oh, no, of course not!” Xie Lian had said. “Honestly, I think it’s a bit silly! He’s definitely exaggerating. But he wanted to buy me a new phone, so I just…”
He had flushed, looking at the phone, the TV. Looking around the apartment, Feng Xin spotted several other things that looked brand new. The bookcase that was only half-full. The knife block, made of expensive-looking polished wood. Some sort of crockpot contraption on the counter. All gifts? What the hell…
They had hung out. Feng Xin had played it cool. Everything was Normal and he was Unbothered. He didn’t even bring up San Lang unless Xie Lian did first. He finally excused himself when Xie Lian said he had been “experimenting” with his new instant pot and offered to cook them dinner. (There were many things Feng Xin would do for his longtime friend, but eating his cooking was not one of them.)
Feng Xin had left his apartment, sat in his car, and for the first time in years, dialed Mu Qing.
The two of them might have not seen eye to eye on most things, but there was one point on which they agreed: Xie Lian must be protected.
He was kind. He was trusting. He wasn’t naive, exactly—he had been through too much for that—but he tended to believe the best in people, even when they didn’t deserve it. And he was giving. He was the type who would give a stranger the clothes off his back.
In other words, he was the perfect, vulnerable target for some malicious creep.
Feng Xin had been relieved to find that Mu Qing agreed with him. He also found the whole situation incredibly hinky.
So now, every time the three of them hung out together, Feng Xin and Mu Qing gave each other knowing looks every time Xie Lian brought up his new boyfriend, and at the end of the night they would head off together to debrief and rant about the latest insane things the man had done.
It was almost nice. Or if would have been, if Mu Qing wasn’t so damn combative all the time. He could turn at the drop of a hat from pissed about San Lang to pissed at Feng Xin, and half the time Feng Xin didn’t even know why. Even after knowing him for eight years, Feng Xin didn’t get the guy.
Still. They had something to bond over, for once. So there was that. Maybe.
It was a well-worn topic of conversation at this point. They had probably complained about the same things a hundred times over. Neither of them were tired of it.
It kind of reminded Feng Xin of his mother’s book club. When he was growing up, she had invited her friends over every week to theoretically discuss a book they were theoretically reading, but it always devolved into the latest gossip. Feng Xin had always heard them downstairs, laughing and gasping and complaining. The same stories every week. It was a little depressing, thinking about how he was acting like a middle-aged auntie, so he chose not to think about it.
To wit, their List Of Reasons Why San Lang Was Sketchy:
- Extensive Googling had found no evidence of him. No social media, no record of his existence. Probably because the name was totally fake. Xie Lian’s posts posted photos of the two of them on Arraygram, but San Lang was untagged. Eventually, he must have made an account, because Xie Lian started tagging him. Feng Xin had checked out the account. 0 posts, 1 follower, 1 following. No points for guessing who.
- He was fake as hell. Sure, he was all smiles around Xie Lian, but every time Xie Lian left the room his smile slid off his face and his single eye went cold and calculating. They had only all hung out as a group twice, but both times, Feng Xin had gotten the sense that San Lang was appraising him, and wasn’t very impressed. Which pissed him off, sure, but the real thing he found chilling was the split-second snap when Xie Lian re-entered the room and all of the sudden San Lang was the smiling doting boyfriend again. He was fake. Fake fake fake!
- He was vague about where he was from, his family, what he did for work–basically everything about his life. He was obviously extremely wealthy. But from where?
So here they were. Whatever San Lang had done this time, it was apparently too egregious to text or call about. Ever since receiving the text a few days ago, Feng Xin’s mind had been whirring with worst-case scenarios. Had they broken up? That probably wouldn’t be a bad thing, actually, but Xie Lian would be so upset. Had he proposed? They had only met in what, January? But at the breakneck pace their relationship had been going…
No, it was probably something else. Maybe Mu Qing had dug up some info on him after all. Maybe he had a sordid past. Maybe he had a sordid present!!
“They’re going,” said Mu Qing, “on a couple’s cruise.”
A beat. Mu Qing looked at him meaningfully. Feng Xin was trying to figure out what the hell that meant. “A what?”
“A cruise, for couples. Surely you know that.”
“Gee, thanks so much. What would I do without you.” But Feng Xin’s mind was already spinning. Couple’s cruises... Weren’t those for like… old married couples and honeymooners? He was already picturing hearts and rose petals everywhere. Like a honeymoon package at a hotel, but trapped at sea. The kind of thing you went on to have lots of s… se……
He didn’t want to think about that! Not for his innocent best friend, who, to this day, couldn’t say the word dick without blushing.
They had only been dating for a few months! Surely this was too fast?
“I don’t like it,” Mu Qing said darkly. “Have you heard of love bombing? It’s a tactic in abusive relationships. The abuser piles on gifts and compliments to draw the victim in.”
“Plus he’d be on a boat. In the middle of the ocean.” With probably no cell service, and nowhere to go if things went south. Feng Xin was pretty sure he’d read some article about someone who disappeared on one of those things. No one ever figured out what had happened to her, but everyone said she had probably been thrown overboard. Wait, had that been a real person, or a movie? It might have been a movie. Still! If you wanted to murder someone and dispose of a body, where better than at sea!
“Did you tell him it was a bad idea?” Feng Xin demanded.
Mu Qing sipped at his coffee. “You know how he is with that man.”
Indeed. Every time one of them brought up some of the strange things they’d noticed about San Lang, Xie Lian laughed and deflected. He always had some vague excuse. Ah, San Lang is old-fashioned, he doesn’t like using social media. Ah, San Lang’s job requires confidentiality, he can’t tell you much about it.
They had tried to confront him only once. A two-on-one intervention. They had told him the dude was sketchy, and they didn’t trust him, and they were worried as his friends.
And Xie Lian had dropped his smile and gone steely-eyed. “I appreciate your concern, but this is my choice. If you don’t trust him, then trust me. Trust in my judgment. I know what I’m doing. I’m happy with him. I won’t let you insult the man I love.”
There had been an implicit… something hanging in the air at the end. Feng Xin didn’t think Xie Lian would really choose some dude he had known for five months over his best friends of eight years, but…
But—
But he had looked so serious for once, and what could they say to that?
They hadn’t confronted him again.
“That’s why I wanted to talk to you,” said Mu Qing. “I think you should go. Keep an eye on them.”
Feng Xin looked at him for a moment. Blinked. “Go?”
“On the cruise.”
“Huh?”
Feng Xin felt a step behind in this conversation. Mu Qing was looking at him impatiently.
“I mean, take a few days off work, and go. I’ll pay for it, so you don’t need to worry about that. Hang out on the cruise, just in case something happens. Keep an eye on them. If something happens, if he needs a room to stay in, you’ll be there."
Feng Xin’s hackles rose at the implication that he would need Mu Qing to pay for him, but he was too confused by the strange trajectory of this conversation to actually get upset over it. “You mean… alone?” It was a couple’s cruise, wasn’t it? “Do they take single reservations?”
Mu Qing was suddenly very preoccupied with stirring creamer into his coffee, even though he didn’t like creamer. That was a bad sign. “No. I already called them. And no, you can’t register as a couple and then show up alone. If you break up before the cruise date, they’ll refund your tickets. Apparently mopey singles, and this is a quote, bring down the vibe.”
“Okay,” said Feng Xin, still confused. “You know I’m single, right? Who would I go with?”
“Call up an old girlfriend,” said Mu Qing with a wave of his hand. “Tell her you won an all expenses paid trip, but you need a date. It can’t be that hard.”
“Call—how many old girlfriends do you think I have?!”
A glimmer of uncertainty in Mu Qing’s eyes. He really didn’t know.
“One,” said Feng Xin, “and we broke up years ago.”
“So call her.”
“We haven’t talked in years, and the breakup was so awkward, and I’m pretty sure she’s married now anyway, so that’s definitely not going to happen.”
Mu Qing’s mouth was tight. Clearly he hadn’t anticipated this. “You have a month to find a date then. It’s a free trip. I’m sure you can find someone.”
Which made no sense. Xie Lian and San Lang had been dating like, four months, and had known each other maybe five. If they agreed it was way too soon for those two, then surely inviting someone he had just met was way creepier?!
“Who the hell is going to want to go on a romantic cruise with a stranger?”
Mu Qing shrugged. “You’re good-looking enough, and your personality isn’t totally irredeemable. Surely some girl would be willing to go out with you.”
That was… probably the first compliment he had ever received from Mu Qing? (Albeit an incredibly half-assed one. No surprise there.) Good-looking enough?? Good-looking??? Mu Qing seemed to realize it at the same time he did, because he went red and glanced away, looking furious.
Okay, don’t get distracted here. Remember he’s asking you to do something insane. “Why are you pushing this on me, anyway?” Feng Xin said. “If I could find a date, so could you. You’re also, you know. Handsome or whatever.” Mu Qing went stock-still, clutching his mug so tightly his knuckles were white.
It was easy to piss Mu Qing off, but it was hard to actually throw him off-balance like this. He looked at a loss for words, his lips pressed together in a hard line. Was it that easy to mess with him? Just tell him he was handsome? He knew he was handsome! His Arraygram was filled with about a million mirror selfies!
Feng Xin cleared his throat. This was getting painfully awkward. “And you’re gainfully employed. A respectable member of society and all. You find a date.”
Mu Qing’s hand clenched around his mug. “You’re the only one who has…”
Feng Xin just looked at him.
“Romantic… history.”
So it was true. Xie Lian and Feng Xin had never seen Mu Qing with anyone. Had never heard about even a single date. They had wondered if maybe he was just secretive about it. He didn’t talk much about silly little things like his personal life or feelings. Maybe he did date, they had thought, and just never bothered to tell them. It had never seemed worth asking about. Not like he would have told them, anyway.
Mu Qing was glaring at him, preemptively angry at him over something Feng Xin hadn’t even said yet.
“Look,” said Feng Xin, very graciously taking the high road. And Mu Qing probably wouldn’t even appreciate it! The fact that Mu Qing was apparently a twenty-three year old virgin was something to think about another time. “I’m just saying. It’s risky if we don’t even know we could find a date. Plus, don’t you need to book the tickets now? If the cruise is in a month, we don’t actually have a month to book it. They could sell out.”
“That’s… a surprisingly good point,” said Mu Qing, looking slightly less tense. “And you register under both parties’ names. They check ID. You can’t buy a blank ticket to give to someone later.”
“Hm,” said Feng Xin. “So I guess that’s that.”
“We could…” said Mu Qing. He swallowed.
“Hm?”
“Never mind,” he said, slamming his mug down on the table with enough force to make some of the coffee slosh out. “I have to get going. Think it over, okay?”
And then he was already up and leaving, before Feng Xin could even react.
“Hey, wait—your coffee! Pay for your own damn coffee!”
Too late. He was out the door. Feng Xin sighed and pulled out his wallet.
–
After their meeting, Feng Xin headed back to the gym, where he wrapped up his last three personal training sessions for the day. It was immersive enough that he didn’t have time to think about his weird little conversation with Mu Qing.
After work, he drove home. Now he was thinking about it.
Couple’s cruise. San Lang and Xie Lian. The big flat screen TV, still in the box. San Lang took me wine tasting. The woman who got murdered on a boat, probably. It’s a tactic in abusive relationships. The new phone. The new bookcase. No one on social media by the name of San Lang. I’m sure you can find someone.
As soon as he walked through the door of his apartment, he dropped his gym back, pulled out his phone, and searched “Couple’s Cruise.”
Up popped images of couples embracing as they looked at the sea. Couples dancing. A man feeding a woman off his fork. A couple tenderly nuzzling their noses together.
Several couples who were apparently getting married.
(There was no way Xie Lian would get married on this boat, right? There was no way he would get married without telling them… right???)
Honestly, it was probably better that he didn’t go. Xie Lian had asked them to trust him, after all. And following him onto his romantic vacation would be a definite overstep.
Feng Xin stewed in thought. He wiped down his counters. He cleaned the toilet. He broke out his feather duster and dusted. The whole time, he was tense as a bowstring.
Xie Lian would probably be fine without them.
But… but what if?
Sharing a room. Alone at sea.
Feng Xin wanted to vacuum. It was too late to vacuum. He pulled out his phone and searched “murdered at sea.”
It was real!!! It wasn’t a movie!! This poor woman had really gone missing!!!!
Okay.
Okay okay okay.
It wouldn’t really be stalking. He would keep to his own devices. Xie Lian wouldn’t even have to know he was there. But if something happened, heaven forbid, he would have a friend there to look out for him.
Feng Xin had already made up his mind. Maybe he had already made it up hours ago. Now he just needed to figure out the date situation.
He really hadn’t dated anyone since Jian Lan. He didn’t even have anyone he could ask to go as a friend. He really just hung out with Xie Lian and Mu Qing.
Unless…
It was a bad idea. It was a tremendously stupid idea, but some spiteful part of him relished in the thought of giving Mu Qing a taste of his own medicine. This was Mu Qing’s idea, after all. He was the one who had commanded Feng Xin find a date.
And boy, was he going to hate what Feng Xin had to say.
He pulled out his phone and dialed.
“What,” said Mu Qing.”It’s almost eleven. I could have been asleep.”
“You always go to sleep after midnight and you know it.”
No answer, because he was right. He could hear Mu Qing giving him bitchface through the phone.
“Listen,” Feng Xin said, “I have an idea. “We could go together.”
The line was silent for so long Feng Xin started to wonder if Mu Qing had hung up on him. Except there had been no beep. Maybe he had just dropped his phone and walked away.
“What,” Mu Qing said again, except a thousand times icier.
“If they don’t accept single reservations. We show up together. Just to keep an eye on Xie Lian. Hang out, drink margaritas, sit by the pool, whatever you do on cruises. And then we pretend it never happened. If I just need someone who can show up to get me on the boat, it might as well be you. Plus, it was your idea, so—”
This time, Mu Qing did hang up. Feng Xin barked a laugh at the Call Ended screen, then collapsed back against his pillows.
Mu Qing didn’t call back.
Feng Xin sent him a quick text.
Think about it!!!!!
He felt smugly satisfied, the way he always did when he won an argument against Mu Qing, but the longer his text went without a reply, the more doubt started to creep in. Mu Qing wasn’t… actually pissed, was he? Like, for real? He didn’t think Feng Xin was propositioning him or something, did he? It was obviously just so they could both get on the boat! He thought about sending another text to clarify that, but would that be weird? Would that seem too self-conscious?
It took Feng Xin a long time to fall asleep that night.
The next morning, there were two texts waiting on his phone.
I’ll book the tickets, but you better be serious about this.
You can’t back out.
Feng Xin grinned and started typing.
I’m in.
–
Over the next month, Feng Xin picked up extra shifts at the gym, made sure he was covered for the days he would be out, and tried very hard not to think about the fact that he was going on a romantic cruise with his oldest not-friend so they could not-really-spy on their oldest actual-friend and his suspicious new boyfriend.
In fact, he did such a good job not thinking about it that he didn’t end up thinking about it until the night before, staring at his empty suitcase as he realizing he had no idea what to pack.
A four day cruise, leaving Wednesday night. Thursday and Friday at sea, a daylong expedition on Saturday in Ghost City (which was not exactly the most romantic getaway spot, but it was apparently the only real destination within boating distance of Yong’an port), Sunday at sea, and then disembarking first thing Monday morning, with enough time to get to work for his shift.
Vacation clothes, he thought. It was hot as balls out, after all. Shorts, T-shirts, maybe a button-up if he wanted to be a little fancy. Workout clothes. Pajamas. Toothbrush, toothpaste, razor. Shoes, socks, underwear. The usual.
It had been a long, long time since he had been on a vacation. When he was eleven his school had taken them on a field trip to a museum out of town. Did that count?
He had visited his grandma once in Yushi. She lived in an old farmhouse on a dirt road. One of her neighbors had cows. Was that a vacation?
They didn’t really have the money for vacations, growing up. None of them did. Feng Xin and Mu Qing had grown up poor, and Xie Lian, well. His family had money, once upon a time, but his father lost everything in some risky financial venture gone wrong. That was when his family had moved to the bad part of town. He had been fourteen, the new kid sitting alone at the lunch table looking shell-shocked. Feng Xin had seen him sitting there and decided to talk to the poor kid.
Apparently, on a separate day, during a separate lunch period, Mu Qing had done the same. It was hard to imagine. Mu Qing, being friendly? Reaching out to someone?
Anyway.
It was his first time going on a cruise, and now that he thought about it, this was actually pretty luxurious, wasn’t it? A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?
A shame he had to be fake-dating Mu Qing of all people to do it.
–
The next day, there they were, standing in line to board the Serenity of the Seas. It was 3pm but in the July heat it hadn’t even begun to cool down. Mu Qing had way too much luggage for a weeklong trip. He was standing there looking like someone’s bodyguard, in dark sunglasses and a dark suit.
“Shit, dude,” said Feng Xin. “You must be roasting. It’s like ninety degrees.”
“I’m not,” said Mu Qing, a bead of sweat trickling down his neck. His face was already red from the heat.
“You sure?
If Feng Xin had just kept his mouth shut, Mu Qing probably would have taken his jacket off, but now that Feng Xin had said something, he definitely wouldn’t. That was how their relationship worked. Mu Qing, standing there in the sun, too proud to admit Feng Xin was right, and Feng Xin trying not to laugh because he knew it would set him off.
“By the way,” said Mu Qing, “what in the world are you wearing?”
Feng Qing looked down at his floral button-up, white shorts, and slides. “What’s wrong with it? We’re on vacation.”
“You look like someone’s dad. Not in a good way.” Mu Qing grabbed his suitcase as if he was about to flounce off, but then he seemed to realize they were stuck standing in line. So instead he picked up his phone and started tapping aggressively.
Everyone else… yep, was a couple. That should have been expected. There was a girl sitting on top of her suitcase, doing her best to make out with the a man standing up. The angle looked extremely awkward. He was hunched over to reach her, one hand on the suitcase to keep it from rolling away. The suitcase was wobbling ominously.
The next couple ahead were older, a handsome gray-haired man and a woman in a sundress. Some businessman and his wife, maybe. The classy sort.
He murmured something to her, and she swayed closer, laughing and leaning in for a kiss. Then, in full view of everyone in line, he grabbed her ass and squeezed.
Feng Xin made a strangled noise and looked away. Really, the shamelessness of it! So much for the classy sort!
He could feel Mu Qing’s amused gaze on him.
“Don’t tell me your delicate sensibilities are offended,” he said.
“It’s not—I mean—I just think some things should be private!” Damn, he was probably blushing. It was embarrassing, okay!!
He looked around, searching for somewhere else to rest his gaze. More couples. Couples as far as the eye could see. Older couples, younger couples. Mostly straight couples. A few gay couples.
Feng Xin, for the first time, felt a prickle of discomfort. He had known, in theory, that they were going together on a romantic cruise. But obviously it wasn’t for real. All they had to do was put their names together on the RSVP, and that was it. They could hang out in the room, hang out at the pool, drink at the cruise ship bar. Like a hotel, but at sea!
But now he was starting to realize that everyone here saw them and assumed they were a couple too. Him and Mu Qing. Together. Dating.
By the time they got to the front of the line, there was an anxious knot in his throat he couldn’t begin to understand.
–
There was only one bed.
Feng Xin probably should have expected that.
He probably also shouldn’t be surprised that the bed was covered in rose petals, with a Welcome card resting in front of the pillows. How did they manage to make cursive look so… inappropriate?? He definitely wasn’t reading that card. He didn’t want to know what it said.
They both stared at the bed for a moment.
“I’ll take this side,” said Mu Qing. He pulled back the comforter and started shaking it more vigorously than necessary, sending rose petals flying everywhere.
“You could have just used your hands. Like a normal person. Just pick them up.”
“This is faster,” said Mu Qing.
“Yeah, well, I’m not picking them up off the floor for you.”
Feng Xin opened his suitcase. Might as well claim as many hangers as possible while Mu Qing was busy.
It didn’t take long for him to unpack. He flopped out the bed while Mu Qing opened his own suitcase. The boat was still boarding, and they had a few hours until dinner.
Feng Xin opened Arraygram, and sure enough, Xie Lian had just uploaded a string of new photos.
The first was from behind. His arms were hooked over a balcony, staring at the ocean with what was surely boundless wonder. The sparkles off the water framed him and made him look almost ethereal.
It was a lovingly framed shot. Probably candid.
(Mu Qing had booked them a shitty interior cabin with no windows, of course. And of course San Lang had splurged on one with a balcony. Where did this guy get his money??)
The second photo: a crooked selfie of him and San Lang, with the water behind them. Xie Lian was giving a formal smile, the kind of smile you do on instinct when someone points a camera at you.
San Lang wasn’t even looking at the camera. He was looking at Xie Lian.
The third photo: another selfie from the same angle, but this time San Lang was kissing him on the cheek, and Xie Lian was laughing.
There was a pang in Feng Xin’s chest that he couldn’t explain. He looked at the photo for a long time. Xie Lian’s laugh looked full and genuine, face bright with happiness.
His oldest, dearest friend, and the sketchy stranger who had swooped in and wormed his way so thoroughly into his heart.
San Lang held that heart in his hands. It was a delicate heart. Feng Xin knew from experience. Like a piece of pottery that had been broken and glued back together. It looked strong, but the fault lines remained, and one wrong blow could send the whole thing to pieces.
Something compelled him to click open that third post, and read the comment Xie Lian had written underneath.
(27 July)
Xie Lian:
Full of gratitude today. I feel like the luckiest man alive.