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Lan Zhan was lost.
It wasn't the first time. When he had first begun attending classes, he had gotten lost more than once, making his way to and from the classroom, the dining hall, the exercise yards, even once on his way to meet Huan-ge. The mix of buildings, gardens, and paths could be very confusing.
But that was at home, and Lan Zhan wasn't at home anymore. Uncle had to travel, for some reason that he had explained, but Lan Zhan hadn't understood, and there had been a lot of talking, about Lan Zhan, and Mother, and how he was breaking rules when all he wanted to do was see her, and why wouldn't they let him? It had been more than a month since last time, much more, and Lan Zhan had done his very best to be good and follow all the rules, and still, every time he waited outside her house, the door wouldn't open. He missed her.
So Uncle had decided to take him on his travels, even though Lan Zhan had never left home before. Huan-ge had, but only once, and he was older, so Lan Zhan hadn't thought he would be traveling until he was older too. But Uncle hadn't asked, he had told, and Lan Zhan didn't want to break the rules about disrespecting elders, so he didn't say anything.
But now he thought he should have said something, because they had been walking in the street, and Uncle had told Lan Zhan to stay close, and he had tried, but there were so many people, and so much noise, and smells that made him feel funny in the stomach, and it all was just so much, and he had to stop for a moment because he was finding it hard to breathe, and then he looked around and realised Uncle was gone.
Uncle was gone, and Lan Zhan was lost, and he wanted to go home, and sit next to Huan-ge, and see Mother, and be somewhere that wasn't the noisy street with too many things and none of them the things he wanted.
He had been walking around for a long time, it felt like, but maybe wasn't. He was hungry, and quite cold. He had bumped into someone, and fallen, and his knees and hands were dirty. Uncle would be mad about his dirty robes, and that was upsetting, and so was the feeling of mud on his hands. He didn't want to make his clothes worse by wiping his palms on them, but there was nothing else to use. Wiping them against each other didn't help.
He almost fell into a wooden structure, with slices of watermelon all lined up in a row. His hands were supposed to be clean when eating, but he was so hungry he reached out for one anyway.
Smack!
Lan Zhan fell back with a small cry, holding his stinging hand to his chest. It hurt! There was a person, a woman, leaning over the watermelon with a thin piece of wood in a big hand. She was scowling at him, even scarier than when Uncle got mad.
"Get out of here, you little thief! How dare you try and steal from me!"
The woman spoke very loudly, and Lan Zhan winced. She was definitely an elder, and he shouldn't argue, but he also didn't want her to believe he was misbehaving. "I'm not being bad. I haven't had three bowls yet."
There, the woman would know he wasn't being greedy, trying to eat more than his share. He reached once more for a slice of watermelon, only to have the woman strike him once more with the wood, much harder than last time. He fell backwards, scrambling to keep his feet even as his vision blurred from tears. The woman was shouting at him again, calling him all sorts of things, most of which he didn't understand, and he was so confused he broke the rule about running in his haste to get away.
He didn't run very far, his legs already tired from wandering around looking for Uncle, and when he finally stopped, it was in a narrow street that smelled bad, but didn't have any people in it. The ground was too muddy to kneel, so he just crouched, legs aching, to catch his breath. The street was all shadowed, and Lan Zhan had the terrifying realisation that it was about to get dark, and he still hadn't seen any sign of his Uncle. Surely, Uncle would have been looking for him? Surely he hadn't left him?
Lan Zhan cried.
By the time he had finished crying, the shadows had taken over. The only light was from lanterns, hung on the eaves of the buildings on the big street. There were less people, but still plenty moving around, and Lan Zhan watched them for a while, looking for Uncle's pale robes. At some point he lay on his side, too tired to stay on his feet, but still keeping his sore eyes on the entrance to the street. He didn't want to miss Uncle.
So he saw the boy, before the boy saw him.
He was Lan Zhan's age, probably. Maybe. He was sitting on the shoulders of a tall man, peering around at everything, as if it was interesting instead of horrible. There was just enough time for their eyes to meet, for the boy's face to change. And then they were gone, past the entrance to the street and out of sight.
Lan Zhan closed his eyes, just for a moment to rest them. He didn't usually like it when people tried to pick him up, but he thought he would be very happy if Uncle would come and pick him up and take him home.
A scuffling sound made his eyes snap back open, scared that someone would step on him.
The boy was in front of him. Standing, on his own two legs, directly before him, his head tilted to one side. They looked at each other for a bit. Lan Zhan knew he was being rude, that he should stand up and bow to greet the boy properly, but he was so tired, and cold too, and it was too hard to move. Besides, the boy didn't bow either, so he was being just as rude.
"Are you okay?" the boy said. His voice was high and maybe curious. Lan Zhan often had trouble telling how other people felt.
Lan Zhan didn't know how to answer, so it was good that they were interrupted. The man from before whom the boy had been sitting on came around the corner very quickly, almost crashing into the boy he was so fast. His arms moved in strange ways as he stopped, waving all over the place as he wobbled on one leg before he finally came to a stop.
"A-Ying!" the man said, his voice like how Uncle's got when he talked about the disciples that broke the rules repeatedly. "What are you doing?"
The boy - a-Ying? - turned and said, almost too fast to understand, "I saw a boy! See? He's just lying down in the street like that. I thought it might be like when Mom hurt her foot and was lying down, and you had to carry her. Do you think he needs to be carried?"
The man sighed. "A-Ying, it's good that you're concerned. But remember; running off by yourself is dangerous. Also, please, next time, ask when you want to get down. Don't just start kicking me."
"Okay Dad!"
The man knelt beside the boy, and they both looked directly at Lan Zhan. They had the same eyes. "Are you injured? Do you need help?"
The man's voice was very soft, and deep, slow; it was as if it was designed to be the opposite of the boy's. It was oddly comforting, made him think of the low thrum of a zither string, plucked softly as the music teacher showed him the basic notes.
The questions, though, he didn't know how to answer. Was he injured? His hands still stung a little. His legs still ached. His stomach hurt from not eating since the morning meal, and the cold was a constant bad feeling that wasn't pain, but something like it. As to whether he needed help… he didn't know. He couldn't find his Uncle. Could the man help with that?
At Lan Zhan's tentative nod, the man shifted. Gently, he moved Lan Zhan's arms and legs, lifted his back, and suddenly, he was propped up against a box.
It was strange, suddenly seeing the man and the boy the right way up.
"Where are your parents?" the man asked. The boy shifted a little on his feet, and the man wrapped an arm around his shoulders. It made Lan Zhan's chest hurt, along with the rest of him.
"They said I couldn't see Mother anymore," he said, trying to stop the way his chin wanted to tremble. "They said I wouldn't see her ever again."
The boy gasped, the sadness written across his face so plainly it was obvious even to Lan Zhan. The man's face barely changed, but Lan Zhan thought he seemed sad too. "And your father?"
Lan Zhan was tired. He blinked a few times, trying to stay awake. "I don't know where Father is. I've never seen him, I don't think."
At that the man closed his eyes and bowed his head. The boy just looked between them, his brow wrinkled. "I don't get it. Dad, why hasn't he ever seen his dad?"
The man patted the boy's head. "It's complicated. Don't worry about it, a-Ying." Then, as the boy nodded, the man looked back to Lan Zhan. "Do you have anyone looking after you right now?"
"Uncle was looking after me. But he went somewhere, and I haven't seen him. And now I can't go home." A few tears leaked out.
The man heaved a sigh that moved his whole body. It definitely seemed sad.
In contrast, the boy brightened. "You don't have a home? We don't have a home either! That's because we travel around lots. It's heaps of fun, we go to all different places. Do you want to travel with us?"
The man said something quietly to the boy - his son - but Lan Zhan was caught on the thought. He didn't have to stay in the cold street, alone, left behind. He could go with the gentle man, and the boy with the bright smile, and go to all different places. He could have fun. He didn't know how, but he was good at practising, so he was sure he could learn.
"I want to go with you," he said quietly. It silenced the man - Lan Zhan had broken the rule about interrupting without realising - but the boy cheered.
"Hurray! There's five people in our family now! There's me, and you, and Dad, and Mom, and Pony. Pony's a donkey, but we call her Pony, don't we Dad?"
The man sighed again, but he smiled a little, which didn't really make sense. "Yes, we do. Courtesy of your mother." He stood up. He seemed very tall, suddenly. Lan Zhan blinked at him.
The next thing he knew, he was being lifted. There were hands under his arms, tight and shockingly warm, and then he was being pressed against the man's side, something - an arm? - sliding under his thighs. He wasn't sure what to do, and his hands grasped at the man's fur-lined hood as he worried that he was going to fall backwards, his legs dangling next to the man's hip.
"Here," the boy chirped, "put your legs up. Then you can hold on with your knees!"
Lan Zhan tried, but he was so tired, everything was too hard. The boy didn't seem concerned, and pushed his legs up for him, giggling the whole time. As his legs settled, the man gently guided Lan Zhan's arms so that they were wrapped around his neck, and before he knew it, he was comfortably perched on the man's hip. He didn't feel like he was going to fall at all.
The man's face was turned away from him, and he was speaking, but Lan Zhan got so distracted by the feel of the man's voice - the movements of his throat against his arm, the vibrations from his chest - that he broke the rule about listening when addressed and completely missed the words. He heard the boy's reply though, a cheerful "I can walk, Dad, I'm not too tired!" and then he was tilting sideways as the man bent over. It was scary, and he screwed his eyes shut without thinking, scared of falling, but then he was upright, and there was giggling very close to him. He opened his eyes.
The boy's face was near his too, suddenly, on the other side of the man's. He was grinning widely, showing all his teeth. Lan Zhan realised the boy was sitting on the man's other hip, their arms and legs tangled as they both clung in place. All the places he was touching both of them felt warmer.
Then they were moving. It was not at all what walking felt like when he was doing it, and he gasped a little, shocked. They were out of the small street before he knew it, in the bigger street that was lit by lanterns, moving so very fast. He was so tired that even with the brighter lights, he could barely make out anything. His eyes hurt. He decided to close them instead.
He might have slept, or maybe they didn't go very far, he wasn't sure. There was a wave of heat that suddenly surrounded him, and it should have felt good, he was so cold, but it didn't, somehow it hurt. He whimpered at it, and peaked through his eyelashes, trying to figure out what was going on.
They were inside a building. There were lots of people, and they were all being noisy, and it smelled, different from the street but still bad. He wanted to leave.
"It's okay," the boy said, leaning around his father's head so that he could speak practically in Lan Zhan's ear. "We're meeting Mom here. We usually sleep in places like this, except sometimes when we sleep under the trees. But we only do that when it's not cold."
It helped, listening to the boy's voice, as if it overrode all the other sounds that were too much. The boy kept talking, listing the different places they often slept, as the man carried them through the room, spoke to someone briefly, and then carried them up some stairs and into a different room.
The new room was wonderfully quiet. Not quite as warm, but Lan Zhan thought he still liked it more. The boy dropped easily down to the ground, but Lan Zhan wasn't sure how to get down, and even after resting his legs still hurt. He was grateful when the man lowered him gently, instead.
"A-Ying," the man said softly, "I'm going to go find your mother. Food will be arriving soon, so you two can help yourselves, if it gets here first. Stay in the room, please."
"Okay, Dad," the boy chirped, and then the man was gone.
"I'm so hungry," the boy moaned, fumbling his outer coat off and tossing it onto the ground. "I hope the food comes soon. I think it will. Are you hungry?"
He was. "Mn."
"I hope it's warm," the boy said, yawning. Then he tilted his head, just like he had at the start. "Your coat's really muddy. Do you want help to get it off? I can help!"
Lan Zhan looked down. He had broken the rule about treating ones belongings with care. Before, his coat had been pristine, white with pale blue cloud patterns all over it. It was the nicest thing he owned. It was strange, how in just one day, it had turned brown, mud smeared and soaked into every inch, from the neckline to the hems of the skirt. There was so much mud the fabric had stiffened.
He tried to undo the ties, but his fingers weren't moving properly, and he couldn't get the knots undone. The boy was kind though; he didn't wait and watch Lan Zhan struggle with it for a while, so that he could practise doing it himself. He simply leaned forward, plucking at the strings, and then suddenly the coat was sliding off onto the floor. He thought he should put it away, but he wasn't sure where; the room contained little beside the bed, and nothing looked like his clothing chest at home.
Freed from his robe, he strangely felt slightly warmer. His inner robe was still mostly plain white, with only a little mud at the hems. He held his dirty hands away from the cloth, so that he didn't stain it.
"Here!" the boy said, tugging him over to the beside, where a basin and pitcher sat. "Dad always says we should wash our hands before eating. We should do it now!"
The pitcher was too heavy for him, so Lan Zhan had to help. They poured too quickly, and some spilled, but the boy didn't seem concerned. He splashed in the basin roughly, making more mess, but maybe that was how his family did things? Lan Zhan was too tired to point out the rules against it.
When it was his turn, he lowered his hands in carefully. Immediately, he wanted to cry. The water felt boiling, sending burning pain spread all along his fingers, and he pulled them out quickly, which lessened the pain a bit, but the water clung to his fingers still, hurting them.
"What's wrong?" the boy asked, as if he hadn't just had his own hands in the water moments before.
"Too hot," Lan Zhan whispered. "It didn't burn you?"
They both looked at the boy's hands, to check, but they looked normal. A little pinked, but not burned. The boy shrugged. "I don't think it's that hot… maybe we can use a cloth for you?"
The cloth worked better. The boy used a corner of his own coat, dipping it into the basin and then wiping the dirt off of Lan Zhan's skin. It was a relief, to see the mud slowly disappear, and when they were finished, Lan Zhan found his fingers hurt less, and moved more easily.
They had just removed their shoes and settled on the bed when the door burst open. It made Lan Zhan flinch and grab for the boy without thinking. He ended up with his hand, and clung to it, shrinking down into himself.
The boy, on the other hand, seemed unconcerned. He waved enthusiastically with his free hand, calling - breaking the rule about raising one's voice - out "Hey Mom! Look, we found a kid!"
The man was coming through the doorway, which made Lan Zhan feel a bit better. He was following a woman, who must be the boy's mother. Her wide grin made her and the boy look eerily similar.
"I can see that!" the woman laughed. "Well done. It's been a while since I've had a kid to eat! What do you think, should we roast him up tonight?"
Lan Zhan had a moment where he was worried, trying to think of any stories that had human-looking monsters that ate children, but it was quickly cut off by the boy's groan of "Mo-om!", and the man's quiet "Cangse, be kind. He's had a hard time."
The woman waved both complaints off and approached the bed. She looked amused, so Lan Zhan didn't move away from her hand when she reached it out. Still, he wasn't expecting when she brushed some loose hair back from his face and patted him on the head. "Poor thing," she crooned. "You're so little! Like a squishy little dumpling. I could eat you in one bite."
"He's not a dumpling, he's my friend!" the boy laughed. The man muttered something about needing dinner.
Lan Zhan was a little distracted though, because the woman's hand on his hair had reminded him of something important. As the two adults moved to one side to talk lowly to one another, Lan Zhan ran his fingers across his forehead, feeling skin where he rarely did. He felt sick.
"What's wrong?" the boy whispered. "You're not actually worried about Mom eating you, are you? She won't really, she just likes to make jokes."
Lan Zhan pretended he didn't feel a little relieved at the assurance. "My forehead ribbon is missing."
"Your ribbon?" The boy frowned, puzzled. "You didn't have a ribbon on earlier, I don't think. Is it important?"
Yes. It was incredibly important. How could he be sure he wouldn't do something wrong, without restraint? And Uncle said the ribbon was the sign of his restraint. So he needed it. He didn't want to end up like his father.
The next thing he knew he was crying again. Big, heaving sobs, and he was so tired, too tired to cry but it was happening anyway, and he wanted to curl up in a ball, tighter and tighter until he vanished. It was too much.
He was abruptly knocked over, pinned on the bed by a heavy weight. "Don't be worried!" The boy was lying on top of him, worming his thin arms under Lan Zhan as if he was enveloping him. "It's going to be okay! I'm sorry you're sad. Please be okay."
Huan-ge sometimes hugged Lan Zhan. It was usually stiff, a single arm around his shoulders, maybe a quick squeeze. When he cried, usually the people around him just hushed him, tried to get him to calm down, reminded him of the rules against excessive emotion.
No one had ever responded so to Lan Zhan's feelings. It was as if the boy felt Lan Zhan's sadness as his own, and strangely, it calmed him far faster than any amount of shushing ever had. The tears rolled over him and disappeared, as fierce and quick as a summer storm, and then he was left weirdly empty, and somehow even more tired. He hadn’t thought he could get even more tired. In the end, of all that he had lost, the ribbon was only one; it didn't need more grief than that.
When he lifted his face from the scratchy blankets, he saw the adults across the room, watching him and their son. Their expressions were… something. He was too tired to even try to figure it out.
When the woman saw him looking, her face changed and she clapped her hands briskly. "Well! That settles that, I guess."
The man hummed in agreement. Lan Zhan would agree too, but he didn't know what was settled.
"Do you boys want a bath?" the man asked gently, moving toward the door. "I'll see how long it is until the food is ready."
The boy was talking, Lan Zhan thought he was maybe asking for specific foods, but he was too tired to listen more. His head felt all fuzzy, like the wool of his coat, before it got muddied, so he laid it down again, and closed his eyes for a brief rest.
He definitely dozed off that time, because he is woken up by the man coming back into the room, having left at some point. Servants come with him, pouring water into a tub quickly, and before he knows it, the rest of his clothes had been tugged off and he'd been picked up and deposited in the barrel. It burned like the water from the pitcher did his hands, if not quite as severely, and he tried to squirm out.
"It's okay," the man said, and Lan Zhan felt a hand smooth over his hair, even as another pressed his shoulder to keep him sitting. "It will hurt at first, but soon you will warm up. The frostbite is not bad."
The pain had already faded a little, so Lan Zhan believed him. He focused on the boy, who was also in the bath, and was splashing gleefully, ducking under the water for long periods and then springing up. The woman was trying to clean him with a cloth, but not very hard; she seemed to want to splash just as much as he did.
As the pain slowly went away, Lan Zhan found himself even more tired. The man was nice, and gently cleaned the mud that had managed to get through his clothes off of him. It was good to be clean.
Then he was lifted back out, dried off, wrapped in an unfamiliar underrobe that was a little too small for him, and put back onto the bed. He tried to stay sitting, but he felt all loose and sleepy, and the man didn't tell him off when he slid onto his side.
He spent a little while just lying down, watching the boy keep splashing in the tub, laughing loudly as he played. Bathing had always been a fairly strict part of Lan Zhan's routine, where he was expected to clean himself and little else. He didn't quite understand what the boy was finding so fun, but it made him feel warm inside to see it.
Food came. He was so hungry that the sleepiness briefly went away, replaced by the need to eat that had been nagging at him from most of the day. The man arranged the food on the low table while the woman tried to get the boy out of the tub. The boy was giggling, sliding around and using his slipperiness to keep the woman from getting a firm grip, and Lan Zhan kept waiting for her to get annoyed or frustrated with his disobedience, but she was smiling and laughing too, cheering whenever the boy managed a particularly clever escape.
Finally, the boy was out and getting dressed, and they were settling down, the four of them, to a meal. Lan Zhan could barely wait for everyone to have their food - some noodle dishes he didn't recognise, and little rolls, all warm - before he took a bite.
It was… a lot. The first few mouthfuls, he was so hungry he barely noticed the taste, too focused on eating as quickly as he could without spilling. As his stomach filled though, he began noticing that it tasted very different from normal food. There were lots of different tastes, each one fighting to be the taste, and some of the foods were mushy, and others were so hard he could barely bite through them. And he noticed that his lips were stinging, a little, and his throat. As he kept eating, it got worse and worse, until eventually he had to stop, breathing open-mouthed to try and ease the heat.
"It's good, isn't it?" The boy plucked one of the buns off the plate and offered it to Lan Zhan. "Here, try one of these! They're my favourite."
Hoping the bun would ease the burn, he took it and bit off a large chunk. And then whimpered, as the burning became overwhelming. It felt like he had bitten into a piece of burning coal, and he wanted desperately to spit it out, but that was against the rules, so he just sat, the awful mush of food in his mouth, unable to swallow it due to how hot it was, and unable to remove it any other way.
A heavy fist thumped onto his back, jolting him forward. "Spit it out," the woman cried. "Quickly!"
Rules were rules, but with permission… He spat the bun out into his bowl, panting open-mouthed to try and cool himself. A cup appeared in front of him, tipping cool water into his mouth, and after a day of being cold it shouldn't feel so good, but it did. It offered only temporary relief, but he kept drinking, and slowly it eased. The tears that had risen slowly went away, and he could see clearly, three concerned faces all looking at him.
"Sorry."
Immediately, all three of them began speaking at once. The boy was apologising, loudly, for giving him the bun, and the man was assuring him that he had done nothing wrong. The woman was the loudest, though, as she cheered.
"Finally! Someone else with normal taste. You know what this means? We'll have to order more normal food from now on!" She winked at Lan Zhan. "It's nice to have a food buddy. These two like their food so hot it's practically arson."
"Hot is good though," the boy giggled. "You just have to get used to it!"
The woman pointed at her son. "Your father has been trying to help me 'get used to it' for longer than you've been alive. Guess what? He hasn't managed it! Here," she handed Lan Zhan a bun from a different, smaller plate, "try this one. I always order some normal food for myself; you can share with me."
The new bun was blessedly mild and Lan Zhan ate it gratefully, along with the next four he was given, until finally he felt full. Then he simply sat, warm, fed, and safe, as the three people who had made him so ate and chatted around him.
He had almost dozed off once more when the boy suddenly turned and poked him on the shoulder to get his attention. "Hey. What's your name?"
Half-asleep, he couldn't quite process immediately what the boy was asking. He seemed to pick up on that, as he prompted, "You know, what does your mom call you?"
Mother. It hurt a little, to think of her. Still, he could hear her calling to him clearly enough. "A-Zhan."
The boy beamed. "Hello, a-Zhan! It's nice to meet you. My name's Wei Ying, but you can call me a-Ying. Everyone does! And this is Mom and Dad."
The woman coughed. "Well, we're your mom and dad. A-Zhan has already had a mom, he might not want a new one. My name's Cangse, and this is my husband, Wei Changze."
The man - Wei Changze - bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement. "You can call us whatever you wish, a-Zhan. Whatever you're comfortable with."
Lan Zhan nodded. He didn't know if he could call them Cangse and Wei Changze, as he'd never referred to an adult so casually, but he definitely didn't feel right calling them Mom and Dad, like a-Ying did. He loved Mother.
It became a problem for tomorrow, though, as the adults stood and began ushering a-Ying and himself to the bed. He crawled under the sheets gratefully, lying on his back like he's supposed to with his hands folded onto his chest. A-Ying, apparently, had no such instruction, because he happily cuddled up to Lan Zhan's side. He could have protested, but the feeling of someone pressed next to him was comforting.
"Goodnight, you pair," Cangse said, poking Lan Zhan on the forehead and pinching a-Ying's nose. "We'll be just next door if you need us, alright?"
"Okay, Mom," a-Ying said, giggling a little. "Aren't you and Dad going to fight monsters tonight?"
Cangse and Wei Changze exchanged a look. "Well," she said with a funny twisted smile, "it's a-Zhan's first night with us, so we thought we could wait until another time to do that. It's a special occasion! And the monster will still be there another night."
A-Ying squirmed against Lan Zhan, probably in a happy way, and he couldn't help but feel relieved. He didn't want to be too far away from a safe adult. As Wei Changze stroked a hand gently over their heads, he thought that he felt very safe.
The adults left the room, blowing the candles out as they did. In the dark, a-Ying snuggled close, and Lan Zhan leaned a little back into him, enjoying the warmth and the reminder that he wasn't alone.
"Hey, a-Zhan?" a-Ying whispered, his breath a puff of warmth against Lan Zhan's shoulder. "I'm really glad we met. I've never had a kid friend before."
Lan Zhan felt all soft. His lips pulled up a little without thinking. "Me too. Thank you for finding me."
A yawn, pressed into his arm. "You're welcome. G'night."
"Good night."