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Xie Lian was bundled in layers of embroidered red Hua Cheng had left behind for him, staying under the alcove that protected him from the rain falling down in thick sheets.
“It’s pretty, don’t you think?” Xie Lian said to no one in particular, watching the way his breath puffed in visible little clouds in front of him from the chill.
Hua Cheng was busy today in Ghost City and instead of accompanying him, Xie Lian had elected to stay up at the cottage alone. He’d wanted to do a few chores. Sleep in. Perhaps cultivate a bit.
Instead he was outside leaning against the wall of their home, clutching his husband’s outer robe around his shoulders as if to keep off the cold as he stared out at the way the storm came down heavy enough to obscure trees he knew weren’t far from the cottage.
There was something surreal he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to explain about rainstorms. He’d always thought they were pretty. Frequently wondered if there was someone the rain was falling on who was relieved to have it at last. Or how far away those who’d been praying for it were.
Xie Lian had drowned in a rainstorm once before. Or, more precisely he’d drowned in a mud puddle he’d landed in during a rainstorm. Nasty experience. And he’d caught sicknesses from persistent chills from staying wet for a week during the rainy season a handful of times over the centuries.
He’d also been taught by children how to make mud pies in the rain and teased Ruoye for the way it spun out water from its silk like a dog shaking itself dry.
He’d originally been leaving the cottage to reinforce the garden so the storm didn’t flood it— he’d lost plenty of gardens to such a fate after all— but found that Hua Cheng already had done everything needed before he left.
Xie Lian could’ve gone back in and cleaned up inside like he’d planned. He could’ve left and joined his husband in Ghost City, where weather never changed.
Instead, wrapped safe and warm enough to suit him with nowhere to go, Xie Lian just stared out into the distance.
He’d always liked to think on rainy days. They were good for that. Something quiet and contemplative about them. The soft and constant rumble a good beat to think things out in. Or sometimes to just clear the mind. Like the rain that washed over the land was also washing over the mind to clear everything out. Purify it.
Xie Lian let his mind wander as it wished, allowing himself to simply experience life without judgment or filter. He let memories and emotions come and go, content to just exist, until he noticed one feeling in particular. It was one he’d used to have all the time, but in the past he’d always simply let it go as another thing that couldn’t be helped. Just another fact of life to acknowledge and let go of any expectations for.
He was lonely.
Which was ridiculous. He’d been alone a total of perhaps two hours this morning, and one of them had been spent asleep after he said goodbye to his husband. Since they’d married he’d really had no reason to be lonely. He was nearly always around someone. And before that he’d been lonely all the time but it had just been a fact of life. To go such little time alone only to want the company of others again, wasn’t that silly? Like a child who couldn’t entertain himself? Surely he was grown enough— loved enough— that he should’ve been content to just be by himself.
Something about the rain brought it out of him though.
On sunny days the mind was melted pleasantly by the rays, spilling out into thoughtless relaxation. On rainy days, the topsoil of the mind was gently disturbed and coaxed to thought. Xie Lian could happily bask alone or busy himself, but when left to think about it, he really did prefer company. As though time spent without the ones he loved was suddenly an exhausting experience.
Pulling the outer robe tighter, Xie Lian slid open the cottage door, not to go inside, just to peek his head in. “Is anyone still here? I know San Lang sometimes leaves a few of you around.”
It took a moment, but sure enough a little silver butterfly flew out to greet him, content to let itself be enclosed in Xie Lian’s hands as he settled in to watch the rain once more.
He’d really just meant to get a bit more company, some tangible proof his husband would be with him soon, but he should’ve expected his husband would worry. Hua Cheng’s voice rang out in his communication array not too long after.
“Gege? Is everything alright?”
“En. I just wanted to hold it. That’s alright isn’t it?”
“Of course. Do you want me to come home early?”
“No, that’s alright.” They stayed quiet for a few moments, like Hua Cheng understood that just quietly lurking in Xie Lian’s private array was enough for now while they had their own space to think. “San Lang?”
“Yes?”
“I gave you a red umbrella once, didn’t I?”
He could hear Hua Cheng smile through the array. “Yes.”
“Is that why you carry one now?”
“That’s right.”
Xie Lian opened his hands, wondering idly what kind of butterfly this was. Could Hua Cheng hear from it? Was he listening to the rain too?
“It was gifted to me too, you know.”
“Oh?” Hua Cheng didn’t question why this was the conversation they were having. What the point was. Xie Lian could practically see the way his husband would rest his cheek against his hand and watch him ramble.
“En. Some strangers saw I didn’t have an umbrella and they were in a big group and could share. So they gave me one. I wouldn’t have needed it, I wasn’t staying in a mortal form very long. I don’t know if I tried to tell them that or not. I’m glad they did though. Otherwise I wouldn’t have had it to give to San Lang.”
“And then I would never have taken up carrying a red umbrella everywhere and gege would have had blood all over his nice wedding robes when we reunited.”
Xie Lian laughed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the cool wood of their home. “You would have come up with something.”
“Gege gives me too much credit.”
Xie Lian's smile felt oddly tired. “No. My San Lang is just that resourceful.”
A shift in the sound of the pattering of the rain had Xie Lian’s eyes opening again, taking in the sight of his husband and that umbrella that had helped them so many times.
“I told you you didn’t need to leave early.” He let his hands fall open completely, wraith butterfly fluttering up out of them.
“But you didn’t say I couldn’t,” Hua Cheng stepped a bit closer, tipping the umbrella so Xie Lian could come under it without getting wet.
He could’ve argued or asked questions, but instead Xie Lian fell into his husband’s side, letting their hands fit together as Hua Cheng led him across their muddy hill with the same reverence and romance he’d used on that bloody mountain once upon a time.
Just like back then, Xie Lian didn’t ask where they were going. He was perfectly content to see whatever Hua Cheng wanted to show him.
Unlike back then, Xie Lian didn’t have a veil to cloud his vision, but the storm was heavy enough they really couldn’t see far. Still, this was their home. Xie Lian knew vaguely the direction they were going, so by the time the temple came into sight, he’d already predicted it.
“Shall we wait out the storm here? Temples and shrines to the Crown Prince of Xianle have always been my safe havens.” Hua Cheng said this as if he hadn’t picked Xie Lian up at the door to their home and couldn’t have just rested in there. As if they couldn’t just teleport to Puqi where it was cloudy but dry currently or Ghost City where it couldn’t rain.
Xie Lian followed him in. “That sounds nice.”
They didn’t have to talk or have a plan. Xie Lian didn’t have to explain the loneliness that felt woven into his very bones.
He just had to settle side by side with his husband and let his thoughts be gentle disturbed by the patter of the rain and the weight of his past. And Hua Cheng couldn’t take on that burden or take it away.
But his hand was locked with Xie Lian’s as they silently passed the rest of the storm in that little temple. And for today, that was enough.