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The doors to one of Lucheng’s most popular taverns slam open, and in enters Xiao Lanhua, her hands on her hips. She surveys the scene with careful eyes, and does not like what she sees.
“Shangque, where is my husband?”
It's important to note that Xiao Lanhua does not ask Xunfeng this question. Whenever the boys have a night like this, Shangque is pretty much always the one walking the other two home, if Jie Li isn’t around to handle it. He’s the oldest of the three, being an ancient dragon and all, so he can drink his weight in wine. Dongfang Qingcang and Xunfeng, however, who have been taught to monitor their food and drink intake since childhood in case of enemy poisoning, are a different story.
At her prompting, Shangque bolts straight up from the table he was just slumped over to do the customary greeting arm gesture. Xunfeng is curled up next to him on the floor like some kind of cat, fast asleep and snoring quietly. Dongfang Qingcang is nowhere to be seen.
“Yuezhu!” he exclaims. “You’re here! Zunshang is... uhhh. He was just here a moment ago...”
Xiao Lanhua sighs heavily and rubs at her forehead. “Did you lose my husband, Shangque?”
Shangque scrambles up so he’s standing, his eyes panicked. “No! No, I wouldn’t dare!” he says, then hurries to kneel in apology. “I swear on my life, Yuezhu, he was just here... maybe he’s gone outside for some fresh air? He was pacing and muttering something to himself before you arrived. He was talking about you, and then he mentioned something about watching the moon? A bridge? Locks? Planning a date? I didn’t really understand him, since the next Shanyue Festival isn’t for another few hundred years...”
Xiao Lanhua gapes at him. “He was what.”
“Uhhh,” Shangque stammers, his head still bowed in respect. His voice comes slightly muffled from behind his arm. “I think... I think you should go check on him.”
“You think,” Xiao Lanhua repeats, already turning around to head back out the doors.
She takes exactly one step out of them before her husband bumps right into her, nearly knocking them both over. Xiao Lanhua quickly grabs at his arm to steady them both, and Dongfang Qingcang stares back at her, then beams in recognition.
“You’re here!” he says happily, throwing his arms around her in a hug. Xiao Lanhua squeaks but does not protest the action, simply patting his back in return. “I knew you would come for me, Xiao Lanhua!”
Xiao Lanhua can’t help but giggle from how the inflection in each syllable is said so brightly. It’s been a while since he’s called her by Xiao Lanhua; he tends to gravitate more towards Xiao Huayao these days, or simply my love.
It doesn’t make him any less cute, though.
“Of course I’m here, Da Mutou,” she laughs, stroking at his hair. He hums contentedly and holds her even tighter, like he’s afraid she’ll disappear if he doesn’t. “Did you miss me that much?”
“Yes,” he says reverently, with fierce conviction. He squeezes her close to him, both protective and possessive. “Always. I am always missing you.”
She flushes a little at the way his voice sounds when he says that; like he’d bring her the stars if she just asked for them. She’d do the same for him, but still.
“Is that so?”
Dongfang Qingcang pulls away from the hug to nod enthusiastically. “I would never lie to you.”
She smiles and cups his cheek with one hand, her touch tender on his skin. “I know, Da Mutou.”
His eyes go comically wide, darting back and forth to look at her face, then the hand on his cheek. He looks adorably flustered and shy, completely unlike himself, and Xiao Lanhua wonders if kissing him would be too much for his drunk brain to take.
“You are so beautiful,” he blurts out, his words jumbled and slurred together in a rush. “No one in the three realms can ever dream of comparing to you. I want you to be my Yuezhu. I’ll take you to see the moon and hang love locks on the bridge and bring you to see the sun every morning.”
You already do that, she thinks, amused. But she doesn’t want to burst his bubble, so she lets him continue on.
“You are the only person I will ever love in my life,” he emphasizes, taking her hands to hold them in his own. His eyes shine with enamoured hope, as if he’s about to propose to her again. “What about you? Do you have anyone in your heart?”
Xiao Lanhua fights more laughter. Only you.
“I do,” she replies. “You might know him, actually.”
Her husband’s face crumples. In an instant, he’s gone from cheery and blushy to on the verge of tears— no, wait, he’s actually crying now.
“Who is he,” he demands. He grips her arms, shaking her gently as tears well up in his eyes, streaking down his cheeks. “Who is he? Is it that…” he grits his teeth, and his tone goes cold as he spits out: “Is it that Changheng? Did he marry you? Did you marry him?”
His voice cracks a little at that, so cluelessly heartbroken, and Xiao Lanhua’s eyes soften. Oh, her sweet, loving husband— after so many centuries of loving him, how can he not know that she would choose him in every lifetime?
“Da Mutou,” she tries to clarify, “Calm down. It’s not what you’re thinking.”
It’s like he doesn’t even hear her. He hisses, dropping his hands from her arms and wiping at his tears furiously. His eyes glow red, and he cracks his knuckles, then rolls his sleeves up to his elbows. Without a word or explanation, he spins on his heel and stalks out of the tavern, heading for the main streets of Lucheng.
This idiotic husband of hers!—
Xiao Lanhua groans out loud and takes off after him, hiking up her skirt so she can chase him better. It’d be far easier to just snap her fingers and teleport, but they’re currently among mortals, so she can’t risk it. She’s tempted, though.
“Da Mutou!” she shouts, huffing as she follows him down the winding and busy streets. “You’re being ridiculous! Come back! Where are you even going?!”
He doesn’t answer her, carrying on his determined route, breezing past market stands and lit up buildings. Passersby gawk at them, and she knows they must look like a sight, but she could not care less about her reputation right now. She does eventually give up on calling and focuses on running, keeping her eyes trained on him so she doesn’t lose him.
Finally, they come to a stop in front of a moderately sized residence, not quite built for the richest of the rich but certainly above middle-class. The gates are locked, but no guards or servants stand outside.
Xiao Lanhua looks up and reads the sign hanging above the entryway.
Run Mansion. They’re at Changheng’s— who prefers to be known as Xiao Run these days— Lucheng residence.
“Da Mutou,” she moans, trudging over to stand beside her husband. “Have you gone crazy? You are letting me sleep in for the next week after tonight, no exceptions.”
Dongfang Qingcang crosses his arms and glares up at the sign. “Changheng is the crazy one for thinking he deserves you. I’m going to kill him for even laying a hand on you.”
“You are not killing anyone,” she stresses, placing her hands on his shoulders. She attempts to steer him away, but he’s stubborn and won’t budge, staying firmly in place.
“You’re right,” he scowls, snapping his fingers. Liuli fire ignites between his fingertips, then goes out. “He is not worthy of you, and thus should not even be considered as a person.”
Xiao Lanhua bumps her head on his chest, frustrated. “That is not what I meant and you know it! And I know you don’t mean it either, it’s just your drunk, childish brain speaking. You two are good friends now.”
Her husband’s glare gets darker. “We are not friends, nor am I drunk.”
“Uh huh, says the one who is literally his sworn brother,” Xiao Lanhua retorts. “And tell that to the tavern owner’s wine you nearly bought out of stock! You’re lucky Shangque took your money pouch before you got more. We need to give him a raise.”
He frowns. “That’s where my money went?—”
A high-pitched mechanical creak interrupts their conversation. Both of them look at the doorway to see a confused Xiao Run standing there, holding a lantern in front of the now open gates. He squints at them in the dark, the light illuminating his face.
“Xiao Lanhua?” he blinks. He takes a few steps forward, using the lantern to see his surroundings. “Dongfang-xiong? What brings you here so late at night?”
Dongfang Qingcang explodes. “Who are you calling Dongfang-xiong?!”
“…” Xiao Run exchanges a glance with Xiao Lanhua, utterly lost. “What is… Is he… okay? Did he lose his memories?”
Xiao Lanhua sighs and holds her husband back, who’s snapping his teeth and trying to fight his way out of her arms. “No, just his dignity. He drank too much at the tavern with Shangque and Xunfeng.”
“Ah.” Xiao Run grimaces. “I assume he’s here to challenge me to a duel in your honour, then.”
Xiao Lanhua presses her lips together, matching his expression. “Unfortunately.”
“Do you… need any help?” he asks. “I don’t want to fight him, but if I have to…”
Dongfang Qingcang sneers at him. “Afraid I’ll win?”
“No, please don’t encourage him,” Xiao Lanhua says loudly, speaking over him. “I’ll take him home, but you should go back inside just in case, Xiao Run. I’m sorry for bothering you.”
“It’s not an issue,” Xiao Run replies, half-smiling. He bows politely before making his exit. “Have a good night, Xiao Lanhua, and Dongfang-xiong. I hope the next time we see each other it’s over a cup of tea, or perhaps a nice meal.”
The gate to Run Mansion closes, and Xiao Lanhua exhales, relieved. Dongfang Qingcang manages to untangle himself from her arms, then glowers at her.
“You don’t want me to hurt him, huh?” he says accusingly, sticking his tongue out at her. “You still like him! You’re still caught up on your precious and beloved Changheng-xianjun— Mmph!”
Xiao Lanhua doesn’t let him finish that thought. She grabs the lapels of his outer cloak and tugs him into a searing kiss, stealing the rest of the words from his mouth. She’s kissing him so hard she thinks her lips might bruise, but it’s worth it to shut him up, to prove to him what he means to her.
For a second, Dongfang Qingcang goes still, like he can’t process what’s happening. His surprise fades fast, though, and he kisses her back with equal fervor, pulling her in by the waist. She molds to his embrace, fitting perfectly to him.
“The one in my heart is you,” she whispers, in between breathless, burning kisses. “I’m married to you. I chose you. Not Changheng, not Xiao Run, not anyone else. It is and will only ever be you, Da Mutou.”
She presses one last, lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth, then pulls away. Her husband’s eyes are dazed, more kiss-drunk than wine-drunk. He blinks at her, lips bitten pink, his face flushed and speechless...
Then he passes out, collapsing right into her arms.
“Oof,” she huffs, staggering as she bends to adjust him in her hold. She brings an arm under his knees and rests the other on his back, scooping him up into a bridal carry.
Turns out kissing your drunk husband is in fact too much for him to take, she notes. I should do it more often.
Xiao Lanhua smiles and shakes her head, starting to carry him back to the tavern where their friends await. She’ll tease him about this tomorrow, but for now, they’re going home.