Chapter Text
“You get what you pay for,” while a common adage, is a phrase Xie Lian has worked hard to defy every day.
Why spend sixty dollars on a coat when he could layer on three sweaters he thrifted for five dollars each? No need to waste money on buying a new one either, when he could patch up the holes with a good, old-fashioned, needle and thread. The idea of spending 20 dollars on an umbrella? Obscene; especially when Xie Lian got a deal for his new favorite possession: a Hello Kitty umbrella. A steal, really.
Unfortunately for Xie Lian, his two-dollar, bottom-of-the-bargain-bin, flimsier-than-a-wet-napkin umbrella was unable to keep the wind and rain from seeping through three layers of woolen threads and soaking him to the bone.
If his shivering form was anything to go by, it was apparent that the phrase, “you get what you pay for,” still reigned supreme.
It was with stiff limbs and an inverted umbrella in tow that Xie Lian speed-walked to his apartment in the rain (taxis are overrated, it’s important to get your cardio in). A steady rhythm of icy drops paired well with the post-workday din of cars screeching down the city street, allowing his mind to wander.
What was Mu Qing making for dinner tonight? He ate a piece of cantaloupe he packed for work in thought, eyes observing rainwater filling in the familiar cracks of the sidewalk. To be fair, it didn’t matter either way; Xie Lian was banned from the kitchen regardless. You set off the building’s fire alarm once , and everyone gets into a tizzy about how you “managed to set fire to congee” and “should never be allowed within three meters of a working stove again.” Honestly, did people no longer believe in second chances anymore—
A pitiful yowl yanked Xie Lian back to reality. He squinted in the general direction it came from, trying to see past what was essentially a grey sheet of rain. It wasn’t long before another cry rang out, barely making it above the sound of traffic. His eyes zeroed in on the alleyway a meter or so ahead of him.
What poor creature had managed to get caught in the rain? It wasn’t as if this was a summer shower either. Each drop of autumn rain that splattered on his skin leeched heat away from his body. He couldn’t imagine being weighed down by fur that couldn’t even offer warmth.
Sure enough, there was a dirtied, soaked cat shivering as it pressed itself against the wall in an attempt to shrink away from the cold. It couldn’t have been more than two years old; it also looked like it could’ve been white but with all of the dirt, smog, and—was that blood?!—caked into its matted fur, Xie Lian figured the poor thing hadn’t had a proper bath in ages.
Making sure his steps were light—not that the cat seemed to be of the mind to care how loud he was—he padded his way towards it before squatting down.
“Hello there, little one,” Xie Lian cooed, gingerly reaching out a hand while trying to shield it from being pelted by any more rain with his umbrella. “You shouldn’t be out in the rain like this, you’ll get a cold.”
He received little more than another meow before his brown eyes met blue ones. The cat butted its head toward him, trying to lean its full body weight against his hand. Xie Lian shivered at how frigid to the touch its waterlogged fur was and made a move to withdraw his hand in surprise, but each time he tried to move away, the cat pushed further until it was practically in his lap.
He chuckled and gave its head a few cursory pets, smiling in spite of the water that was slowly seeping into his pants. It was fine if they got grime and mud on them today, tomorrow was laundry day anyway.
“You’re a persistent one, aren’t you?” he mused mostly to himself as he took a closer look at its coat to see if there were any injuries that needed attending to. The few streaks of blood he could see on its fur didn’t look fresh, but it couldn’t have hurt to get them checked out to avoid any infection. There was no collar around its neck either, so unless it was microchipped, he had no hope of trying to call the owners.
With a small grunt of effort, Xie Lian scooped up the cat in one arm and hoisted himself up. Now that it was pressed close to his chest, he could feel the tremors that wracked the poor thing’s body.
“I know we’ve only met today,” he said as he made his way to the nearest clinic, pointedly ignoring the feeling of claws digging into his sweater, “but can I ask you not to hate me if I take you to the vet? I want to make sure you’ll be okay before I send you home and see if we can find your parents.”
The cat blinked back at him owlishly, shivering all the while. Xie Lian smiled.
“To the vet, it is then!”
After about thirty minutes of sitting in the waiting area, the door to the veterinarian’s office opened and the cat stepped out, closely followed by the vet herself.
“Aside from a few cuts and scrapes, he looks to be in good condition,” she announced, smiling at the cat leaping into Xie Lian’s arms before turning back to her clipboard and writing notes.
Ah, so it was a he.
“We also gave him a bath to get rid of the dirt and dried him off.”
“That’s good to know, thank you so much for your help,” Xie Lian nodded his head in thanks and gave the cat gentle scratches behind his ears, admiring his newly blow-dried coat and fawning over him even more when he started purring. So he was a white cat. With soft fur too.
“If it’s not too much, could I ask one more thing of you?”
“Yes?” The vet looked up from her papers with a raised brow.
“Do you know if he’s microchipped or not?”
“You don’t know if your own cat is microchipped?”
His smile turned sheepish as he scratched the back of his head with a free hand. “Ah, no I actually picked him up off the street today. He was just sitting there in the rain, it was worrisome.”
“I see…” After a few beats of silence, she pushed up her glasses. “When we conducted his physical exam we didn’t see any microchip. You could take him to a nearby shelter, but they tend to be at capacity around this time of year.”
Xie Lian frowned. As far as he knew, there weren’t any no-kill shelters in his area. And while the question of whether or not he would be adopted wasn’t an issue—this cat was quite handsome now that the dirt and blood had been washed off—sending him off to another strange area didn’t sit right with him.
“Could I take him home instead?”
She smiled and scribbled a few more notes. “I’ll go ahead and get you the proper paperwork so we can get him registered. That shouldn’t be a problem at all.”
“Absolutely not,” Mu Qing deadpanned before Xie Lian could get more than a word in edgewise, arms crossed over his chest and a spatula in his hand. The pinched look of irritation on his face was almost intimidating enough to offset the pink checkerboard apron (also Hello Kitty-themed) he was currently wearing.
Almost.
The smile Xie Lian was wearing felt a little more forced than it did thirty seconds ago, but he carried on regardless and closed their shared apartment door behind him, mindfully setting his newly acquired companion on the couch where Feng Xin sat and a hefty bag of cat food on the floor. The cat wasted no time in padding over to the man and pawing at his knee, eyes timid but curious as he inspected the threads on his pant leg.
“I don’t know…” Feng Xin trailed off as he let the cat nose at his fingers, enamored by how the small creature’s nose was cool to the touch. “I think it’s a great idea, Xie Lian. Mu Qing just hates the idea of cleaning up after a fellow stray.”
“You don’t even live here, cadger.” If Mu Qing’s eyes kept rolling like this, Xie Lian feared they would get stuck looking at the back of his head permanently. “You get no say in this.”
“Oh my, that’s a fancy word for you. Is that the word of the week for your little book club—”
“As I was saying,” Xie Lian began again, “I’ve named him Ruoye, and he’s an exceptionally well-behaved cat. I found him on the street today, and he was sitting in the cold all alone—”
“All due respect, I couldn’t care less how well-behaved that thing is,” Mu Qing interrupted as he shot a pointed glare in their direction. “It hasn’t even been here for more than five minutes and it’s already shedding all over the couch.”
Feng Xin barked out a laugh. “See? Told you.”
“Can it, freeloader.”
“Mu Qing…” Xie Lian’s voice took on a pleading tone.
“We’ve both been struggling with rent, we can’t possibly take in a stray cat.” He waved his spatula around emphatically. “I hate to be the one to say it, but this isn’t practical. You’d have to think about food, vet visits, bedding—”
“I can make it work.” The gears in Xie Lian’s mind were already turning as he worked out the budgeting he’d need to keep track of. “The shop got a new regular about a month ago, and he tips really well. More than I’d like… but if he keeps ordering arrangements and tipping the same, the amount of income the shop would make from just him would be enough to cover any expenses for Ruoye.”
Mu Qing was hardly convinced. “Listen, I don’t say anything about you spending money on buying treats to feed stray animals or letting them stay here to recover for a night if clinics are closed. I’m not your parent; if that’s your prerogative, then you should go for it. But to permanently bring one into a space that we share? Did you think this through?”
“I can take care of everything for Ruoye and still keep up with my half of the bills,” Xie Lian insisted.
Feng Xin rose to his feet and stretched himself out, yawning languidly before he let his hands drop to his sides. “Sounds like he’s got you beat, you know how Xie Lian is when he’s got his heart set on something,” he simpered as he gave the cat of the hour a few head rubs, cooing when he leaned into his hand. After sniffing at his hand for the past five minutes, Ruoye had decided Feng Xin wasn’t a threat. “Anyways, when’s dinner gonna be ready?”
Rolling his eyes, Mu Qing headed back to the kitchen to check on the progress of tonight’s dish. “I’m not feeding you tonight, you mooch. Go order takeout or something.”
“How am I supposed to tell my clients to train hard and keep to a diet if I’m stuffing my face with shitty food?” Feng Xin groaned as he followed after him.
“Oh, I don’t know. Starve then,” Mu Qing grumbled.
“You have the most bitter personality I’ve ever been unfortunate enough to meet. You are such an ass …”
“…”
“…but your cooking is actually decent.”
“Maybe instead of starving you, I’ll just spit in your food,” Mu Qing muttered dryly as he pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. He turned to Xie Lian and, upon seeing that his stupidly optimistic smile never went away, Mu Qing huffed and turned back around to rifle through the cabinets and grab three plates. He set them on the island before taking the pan off the stove and plating it up.
Tonight was steamed sea bass in a ginger soy sauce with stir-fried vegetables. For extra protein, there was also scrambled egg with tomato mixed in. Feng Xin hated tomatoes, but they were healthy and Mu Qing took personal joy in watching the man try to tough it out and force himself to eat them anyway.
From the corner of his eye, Mu Qing could see sapphire eyes peek up at him in interest as he brought the dishes to the kitchen island and set them down. It seems as if the small thing had already begun to make itself at home and start exploring.
He looked up.
Xie Lian smiled back.
Mu Qing stubbornly averted his gaze and shoveled rice onto each plate before grabbing chopsticks and spoons for the three of them. Maybe if he busied himself with setting up for dinner, his hardheaded roommate would drop the subject. Dealing with Feng Xin’s stupid face as he jovially pulled a chair up to the kitchen island was almost tolerable compared to Xie Lian’s silent begging.
Sure, the man could handle rejection—it’s not as if he would ever push someone’s boundaries after a hard no—but having to tell Xie Lian “no,” was the same as asking Mu Qing to tell some kid that Santa wasn’t real. Easy in theory, but dealing with the knowledge that he was the bearer of bad news? Not so much.
After a few more moments of fidgeting with placemats, Mu Qing dared to look up again.
The fucker never stopped smiling.
Sighing in defeat, he sat himself down and waved in the general direction of the couch.
“Keep him out of my room, and we have a deal.”
He could practically feel the energy of their small apartment shift as his roommate’s face lit up. Xie Lian wasn’t one for raucous, incendiary emotions—even as a kid, he never took it upon himself to shriek or whoop loudly in joy—but his excitement was palpable nonetheless.
“Oh thank you, Mu Qing! You’ll get used to him in no time, I swear. He’s super friendly, he was even okay with me carrying him all the way home while I walked—”
“If I see any cat hairs in my cooking, I’m throwing him out the window.”
Sunlight filtered through the half-open blinds of the shop and bled streaks of gold across Xie Lian’s work table as he busied himself by carefully trimming chamomile stems before giving them a home in their new container.
It was Ruoye’s first time accompanying him to work and, much to Xie Lian’s delight, he had been giving him zero issues at all. Instead of batting at every stem in his reach like Mu Qing said he would, the cat had taken a liking to the feeling of the sun warming his fur. Wherever there weren’t stray leaves or petals, he took it upon himself to sprawl out on his back, tail languidly lashing back and forth as he watched Xie Lian work.
His current client had requested a bouquet for the bride of a wedding. When they both sat down to talk about the specifics, he learned how the two had come to meet and chose the flowers accordingly. Chamomiles for patience in adversity, and pink camellias to represent a deep longing. These two flowers combined with white clovers as fillers for the bouquet—a plea for the receiver to think of the giver—gave a quiet retelling of how the groom and bride had met and continued to fall for each other despite unkind circumstances.
It pulled at his heartstrings, really.
There was just something about being able to pull together a piece that would be part of such a defining and joyful moment for so many people that made his heart smile. And so he stood there, painstakingly making sure every bloom sat just right. Xie Lian loved weddings—even more so when he was able to make an arrangement that conveyed a couple’s story.
He took a step back to admire his work and began to get lost in his thoughts—maybe he had time to run out and buy Ruoye a small bed he could use at the shop…?—when he heard the door chime ring up front.
“I’ll be there in just a minute!” He patted his hands dry on his apron before giving Ruoye a quick pat on the head—after getting over the initial shock of such loud ringing, the cat had quickly grown desensitized to customers entering the shop and started to take the sound as a signal to accompany Xie Lian as he made his way toward the front. Was his client here for pickup already? He had told her it wouldn’t be ready for another couple of days.
Instead of a rather warm-spirited and peppy woman with brown hair and sun-kissed skin who wore whites and blues, Xie Lian found himself faced with a gentleman who looked to be entirely the opposite.
Inky black hair was smartly slicked back into a high and tight ponytail, not a strand of hair out of place. Clothes as dark as night countered sharply with severe eyes and pale skin. Silver trim glinted against the black of his wool coat, nearly reaching the floor. And while his gaze wasn’t exactly frigid in the way he scanned the shop, nothing in his features made way for the implication of life. He was all harsh contrast and sharp angles.
Save for the slight tinge of pink dusting his cheeks and nose that implied a brisk walk outside in the nippy autumn weather, he looked to be a walking corpse.
“He Xuan!” Xie Lian’s eyes crescented as he smiled and took his hand to shake it, Ruoye still weaving in and out of his legs. Contrary to everything else about him, He Xuan’s palms gave off a pleasant heat. “You’re here for your order, right?”
“Mn.” Other than a curt nod, the taller man didn’t contribute much more. His eyes only briefly lingered on Ruoye before he turned his attention back to the florist.
Xie Lian didn’t think much of his brevity—this was his third time ordering from the shop, and the rhythm of their exchange never deviated too far from yes or no questions—and made his way to the back again before wheeling out a two-tiered cart.
Two arrangements sat atop the highest tier, while three sat on the bottom—all were in vessels of various heights and shapes. Each bouquet set a moody tone with near-black or burgundy petals and dark green ferns, with the only instances of bright color found in flesh-colored flowers interspersed throughout each piece for contrast. Both the flowers and He Xuan himself looked out of place in a store that had mostly warm, bright tones.
“It’s not often I’m just given a color scheme and told to do whatever I want. Thank you for all the creative freedom,” Xie Lian said enthusiastically as he gently set each vase on the counter to ring them up.
More freedom to do as he wished meant he could incorporate more unique flowers people didn’t typically order—sea hollies weren’t exactly the most popular compared to roses or tulips, and the snarly texture of contorted filbert branches wasn’t necessarily a crowd-pleaser either. Using relatively unconventional materials drove up the cost of these arrangements, of course, but He Xuan had insisted that money wasn’t an issue during his first order.
“There’s no need for thanks.” He Xuan’s tone was neither friendly nor antagonizing—it just was. “My boss enjoys your work. He says you have a keen eye for pieces that aren’t monotonous to the point of being an eyesore in the studio.”
Unsure if he was to take that as a compliment, Xie Lian decided to change the line of conversation entirely as he punched in the necessary information to calculate the total, Ruoye looking over his shoulder as he perched on one of the shelves to his left. “You buy these for him as a gift? That’s quite nice of you.”
“No, these are for display around the shop.” He Xuan sighed—the only other emotions he displayed other than apathy were either thinly veiled contempt or annoyance, and this was the former. “I’m his personal assistant. He sends me on errands or whatever suits his fancy.”
“Oh? Well, I assume my flowers suit his fancy, then. That seems like high praise, coming from him,” Xie Lian chuckled.
“Very. He’s critical of other people’s works.”
“Oh? Does he make a living as an art critic?”
He Xuan shrugged. “No. He’s an artist. Very highly acclaimed. Probably one of the best” It didn’t sound like he was bragging about his boss so much as he was begrudgingly telling the truth.
“Well, it’s very flattering to receive praise from someone with so much skill,” Xie Lian replied with a smile on his face. “I’d love to see his work sometime.”
The black-clad man considered him for a moment. “I can talk to him about having you stop by.”
Xie Lian immediately backtracked and waved a hand dismissively. “Oh no, I would hate to impose. I’m sure he’s a busy man if he’s sending you out so often.”
“Yeah. Busy,” He Xuan muttered under his breath and bent down a bit to peer at each of the arrangements set on the counter, eyes carefully analyzing Xie Lian’s work.
After a few beats of silence with no words coming from the other, Xie Lian decided to busy himself by tidying up the drawers at the register to avoid rushing him. He was a relatively neat person—his upbringing didn’t give him a chance to be a slob—but try as he might, he could never avoid falling into the trappings of a junk drawer. There were wayward tealights, a pair of dull scissors he forgot to throw out, stamps, white ribbon, and… were those wilted leaves? God, that wouldn’t do—
“You’ve outdone yourself this time.” He Xuan cleared his throat as he stood back up and produced a wallet from his coat pocket. “How much do I owe you?”
“It’ll be four hundred and twenty-five today.”
He raised a brow at him, which was probably his version of openly gawking at someone. “That prices each arrangement under one hundred.”
“Correct.”
“The simplest ones you’ve done before are worth at least ninety.”
“Well, I would actually sell each of these for upwards of ninety-five dollars—what with the rarer flowers and all—but since you’ve been ordering so much from here, I decided to just bundle it and price them at eighty-five each.”
He Xuan’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly. “You are grossly underselling yourself. We’ll pay the full amount.”
“No, I really don’t mind.” Xie Lian waved away the notion, suddenly feeling sheepish under his deadpan stare. “You’ve been such a loyal customer over the past couple of months—”
“I insist,” the taller man interrupted as he handed his card to him and proceeded to rifle through the bills in his wallet. “If you aren’t willing to charge full price, I’ll add a tip to compensate.”
“Ah…” he trailed off, unsure of how else to decline without sounding rude. He Xuan took that as an invitation to continue talking and pointed out the least opulent arrangement out of the five.
“What you do is artistry.” There were no layers of awe or sugarcoating to be found in his voice. Just as He Xuan pointed out his boss’s apparent skill as an artist with zero embellishments, he appraised Xie Lian’s skill (skill??) as a florist as if it were a simple fact of life.
“I wouldn’t consider myself an artist.” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “This is just a hobby I happen to be making money off of, really.”
“It isn’t even a question of using rare flowers or not.” He Xuan continued as if he didn’t hear him. “This piece has more typical flowers, yet you clearly know what you’re doing with its composition. The height, sizing, and colors complement each other, and by adding filler plants with more structure, you made a vertical arrangement with an angular feel without having to fight against the organic form of the flowers. You should be pricing for your skill, and all the time you’ve spent honing it.” He stopped to consider the arrangement again.
“This one is easily worth one hundred or more.”
Xie Lian was absolutely dumbfounded for a few seconds before he found his words.
“This is the most you’ve talked during a pickup, and it sounds to me like you have a keen eye for art just like your boss,” he jibed at He Xuan with a chuckle as he ran the card through and made to grab his receipt from the printer.
“So you admit it’s art.” His tone was still hard—almost abrasive with its ever-present underlying current of annoyance—but Xie Lian found this to be the friendliest he’s been and decided to take his words for what they were.
Once the transaction had been completed and He Xuan was able to (very carefully) load the flowers into his car, Xie Lian returned to the register and reached up to give Ruoye a scratch behind the ears.
He slowly blinked his eyes at Xie Lian as a low, pleasant rumble sounded from his chest.
“You’ve been so good today,” he cooed as he began to give the cat full-body pets. “I oughta get you some treats. Maybe a bed so you have your own spot at the shop.”
Ruoye continued purring.