Archive of Our Own ^beta

Traces of trinkling dancers in masks circle and laugh. The music is slow but melodic. Everything is beautiful. It all seems like some fairytale as the ballroom is filled with the light sounds of strings and woodwinds to accompany it. 

As beautiful as it is, it soon becomes a blur as he's swept from the crowd of dancers in masks. That man takes him in his arms and he's bewitched in the arms of a handsome stranger. 

The spinning confuses his dazed mind and the only thing he can pinpoint is a glass of wine at his lips, slowly tracing down his throat before he collapses with no arms there to catch him.  

Someone calls and clings to his name.  The blur of light consumes his vision.

Somehow the poison wakes him.

Chu Wanning, of course, wakes up very much not poisoned. If anything he feels parched. But uneasiness fills him instead. Chu Wanning often dreams of man he can never remember the face of. 

He always recalls the eyes. 

Mad stricken violet eyes full of pain. 

He shakes himself awake to forget of the nonexistent man that plagues all his nightmares.

It's usually the some version of the same dream.

The man who dances with him. The man who hold onto him. And sometimes the man who fills his cup full of poison. 

Chu Wanning blames it on loneliness and too much True Crime. He's just a simple real estate worker. He has no love life and barely any friends. He's terrible at social interaction and has a tendency to watch period dramas. Of course it manifests itself in his subconscious dreams. 

■ ■ ■

elsewhere, a paper flyer flies to the gates of an abandoned mansion's metal gates. It reads the name of the real estate employee, their phone number, and has photo of individual. Chu Wanning stares impassively in the paper flyer in a white buttoned shirt. The wind seems to howl at the revelation and the grounds of the mansion tremble with anticipation. The dark tall figure in the curtained window smirks at news. 

It seems there is a call to make. 

He can not wait any longer. 

He won't.

■ ■ ■

Chu Wanning doesn't often get many personal calls and this is no different from his usual work calls. It seems he's been called to some grand mansion that the owner is considering to sell. 

He arrives at the location from the call he wrote down and is met with an exquisite mansion. Even in its drab condition it's well maintained.  He inspects the exterior of the home. A very lavish yet subtle gothic tone in the shape and design. It could range popular in the classic elite. Possibly even more modern tastes could take interest in it with a refresh and clean up. 

Chu Wanning takes these to note in his mind, sharp as ever as his eyes gaze every detail with precision. 

There's definitely a story that follows this mansion. 

One that could be uncovered should he take step inside and luckily for him the immense doors open readily for him. He pockets his hands in the deep pockets of his long white trench coat. The beige turtle neck is snug against his throat and the brown trousers held by the thin black belt at his waist make him feel out of place in the dark beauty of the interior of the mansion. 

He peers closer to inspect the details up close. Chu Wanning is mesmerized by the small fragments sparkled into the décor. Much of it could easily be mistaken for a museum of fine architecture. 

He supposes it should fetch a grand price. 

A figure appears close behind him causing a small flinch out of him before he bows slightly, apologetic. They wear the appropriate butler apparel and calmly states their name and instructions to follow them into the dinning room all with their hands clasped behind their firm straight back. Chu Wanning would have confused this person with a puppet on strings if not for the obvious flesh wrinkles on their skin. 

"The master will join you shorty." A white gloved hand gestures to the long rectangular table in middle of the spacious room with multiple tall windows and elegantly detailed fireplace. With no one besides himself he peers near the warmth to fill the instinct to stare marvelously at such craftmanship. 

Before Chu Wanning dedicated his work ethic to real estate he had dipped his toes into a few college classes of the history of art and architecture. Truly the most fun he had during his youth. 

As he edges to the fireplace he notes the details of the engravings. Such beauty in wolves and flowers indeed. "Incredible." He murmurs amazed. "I've never seen anything like this," He whispers mostly to himself dazed.

"Haven't you?" A voice like thunder ponders. 

He gives a sharp turn paired with a small bewildered gasp before clearing his throat to straighten himself out. The man before him smiles fondly. "My grandfather spared no expense when he built this mansion. He had wanted to capture the allure of his passion and love for that of who he built it for in mind." 

"Yes it seems your grandfather had fine and grand tastes then." Chu Wanning hopes he comes off as complimentary and not stand off-ish. "Chu Wanning." He introduces himself stiffly and slightly guarded with how handsome the young man is. "I received your call earlier..." He trails off.

The man brightens with a toothy smile. "Mo Ran." His violet eyes gleam. "Come, sit. You must be famished. We'll talk over dinner." He guides Chu Wanning to one end of the table but is careful not to make physical contact beyond just fabric against fabric.  

■ ■ ■

He is here. 

He is standing right in front of him. 

He doesn't seem to remember anything. 

Not that it matters. 

Soon he will. 

Then he will never leave him again. 

■ ■ ■

Chu Wanning had been so engrossed into conversation with Mo Ran that he didn't notice that it was pouring with the force of the heavens might outside. The dark skies leaving no room for the sun to even glimpse a peek. The water itself as cold as the frozen peaks of hell. 

His gracious host who gives him a face of apologetic guilt, offers him a room to stay, refusing to let Chu Wanning risk to put himself at danger with the downpour beyond the walls of the mansion. Chu Wanning in turn does not wish to leave the warm state of dry clothes and finery to venture to the cold and wet confines of his car. 

He agrees. 

The room is beautiful. Filled with colors of burgundy and violet littered into the fabrics of the curtains and bedsheets. It makes him want to stay up all night simply admiring the room in all detail. To stay crouched at an angle and stare endlessly at the finer details lost to the big picture. 

He does just that for what seems like long awaited minutes before he ears something murmur in the air and right beside his ear. It presses close enough to him to send shivers down his fragile neck. 

He can't make out the strange sentence of words at all. It almost sounds like his name is being called, but that can't be right. He must be tired, yet the ghostly voice continues to call to him. 

It all but sounds like a chorus of music with the faintest undertones of a warning mixed into the tune. The lights are gone in an instant. His room is succumbed by darkness and in turn he is surrounded by the night further. That's when he sees it.

An illuminated blue source of light right in front of him. A ghost fire. Its flames dancing in the tempo of his suddenly erratic heartbeat. It tries to move closer but Chu Wanning is faster and all but runs out of the room, frightened at something that should not exist. He runs into the long hallways that seem to be never ending and whose painting suddenly change to something more sinister.  

A lovely couple turns to deaths lovely clutches. A solider on the battle field is now riding a skeleton horse. Even the self portraits bleed from their eyes with red tinted tears. 

It prompts him to utter a cowardly scream as he races to the end of the corridor. He has to get out. He need to find a logical explanation for all this nonsense. 

So he runs right into the awaiting arms of his host. He doesn't realize what he's done until those arms wrap around him trying to sooth him in a calming and warm embrace. He's gasping out long winded breaths and a hand urges the back of his head closer to Mo Rans chest. 

Chu Wanning can't even speak. He's muttering nonsense that he's sure Mo Ran can barely string together from his shaky mouth and hoarse voice. 

He's scared with the undeniable fright he just witnessed. He tired from running over the dreadful hallways. And he's embarrassed by how comforting being in the arms of Mo Ran's hands feels. 

It's all too much for his fragile stated heart to handle. 

He take deep breathes as Mo Ran guides him into his study and carefully sits him upon a red velvet couch. Mo Ran almost slips away if not for Chu Wanning's own trembling hand clutching the hand. He barely registers the low voice that assures him he's only getting Chu Wanning a simple glass of water. He slips away while Chu Wanning forces himself to calm it's unshaken anxiety. 

Everything prickles his senses.

The study's atmosphere, the darken and sullen mood of it's decorations do not aid his already frightful mind. Goosebumps that previously littered his arms have begun to fade but the thin arm hair still stands like a white unruly cat's fur. 

He forces a deeper breath and hugs his shoulder blades and motioning a tap on the opposite side before switching to the other. It's something he's practiced from therapy sessions that's somewhat worked on him. 

Once Mo Ran appears with a glass in hand he drops his hands and reaches for the extended glass. The water feels like silk in his throat and cool against his flushed hot temperature from the fright. 

"Are you feeling better, Chu Wanning?" Hearing his name from the young handsome man almost makes his heart race just as it had mere moments ago. "You were quite in a panicked state when I found you. Did the storm frighten you to such a degree?" He asks Chu Wanning asks gently with a soft expression clouded on his face. 

Chu Wanning doesn't know what to say.

What can he even say? That he just saw a ghost? A specter of the dead in his bedroom?

"I-i don't. No, the storm wasn't what i-" He flinches back when Mo Ran kneels before him and shushes him. 

"It's okay. Take your time. If not the storm what has frightened you to run into a strange man's arms? Hmm?" He asks teasingly getting a laugh when he see Chu Wanning's agape mouth and stricken eyes. 

"I-i think i may have saw a..." Chu Wanning drawls out the sentence feeling silly and light in the head. "ghost." He whispers more quietly like it's a unseemly secret that must be heard out loud. "It was in my room. Then the hallways. I don't even- It was all so much. Then you.." Chu Wanning babbles on but stops when he sees Mo Ran's dark eyes staring intently at him.

Mo Ran's violet eyes seem to glow dangerous when another round of lightening and thunder welcomes the secret Chu Wanning just whispered. He tilts his head with a thunderous laugh of his own overtaking the study. Then he looks up at Chu Wanning fondly before standing tall again leading to Chu Wanning to tilt his head up to see that wolfish grin directed at him. 

"A ghost? My dear, it must have been the wine that has affected you. It was quite old. I apologize for any of the disturbances it may have caused. You poor thing. Your body isn't used to such strong wine. How awful it must be for you. Seeing such ghastly horrors with you're only hope being me." There's something strange in the way Mo Ran phrases such things. Something predatory about how his tone looks down upon the unsuspecting and clearly uncertain Chu Wanning. 

He also notices the term of endearment. He can't decide if that's due to Mo Ran's personality or if the handsome man is simply trying to calm him. 

"Do you want to hear a story?" He asks as he stands facing the window where the storm is as persist as ever. "Something to take the edge off the nerves. It's about the mansion." He assures as Chu Wanning narrows his eyes, still feeling the adrenalin from the scare but to a lesser degree. He figures it can't hurt to hear how more about this place if he's going to sell it. 

"My grandfather Taxian-jun, or as he called himself 'the venerable one', had recently come to power and succession through a means of merit and sacrifice. He had much of the blood to stain his hands, yet there was still one he dearly loved beyond belief. That person was his true flower of love." He explains. "In such a hated man he came to be loved by that person." Mo Ran touches the glass of the window. 

He must be invested in this story immensely. 

"They were the envy of all. As such Taxian-jun built this mansion to ensure his lovers safety and most of all for his lover to finally have a place to call home. He had even made plans to ask his lover's hand. When he did his lover told him that the answer would be revealed at the midnight of the ball held that starlit night." Mo Ran turns to see Chu Wanning's refection in the glass.  

Chu Wanning waits cautiously for the result. Surely, something happened?

"Unfortunately, he never received an answer." Something creeps up his spine as Mo Ran finally turns to face him. "As his lover poisoned himself." Chu Wanning gasps quietly. "Then Taxian-jun vowed to never find peace until he finally found his lover's soul again before he ended himself." Something familiar about this story strikes a cord within Chu Wanning, he just can't fully place it. 

Mo Ran slowly walks to him with a haunted gaze. Footsteps echo as he creeps closer making him edge ever so back into the seat of the couch. Mo Ran is scaring him. Why is he making such a scary expression right now?

"He waiting for him. Always waiting," He sounds wounded, almost enraged even. "Why won't he come back? Why won't he remember?" His voice edges on desperation as he reaches him and Chu Wanning arches backward to escape but it's too late. He's already in Mo Ran's grasp. 

"Why don't you remember, Wanning?" 

Hands grip his own with shining eyes reflecting Chu Wanning's own terrified expression back at him.

"What are you-? Let go!" He wriggles out a struggles as a maddened laugh escapes the man before him who in turn takes one hand to caress Chu Wanning's face. "Oh Wanning, don't you remember now?" His face inches closer as Chu Wanning struggles helplessly. "Baobei?"

Chu Wanning's eyes widen. 

He's insane!

He has to get away. Now.

Mo Ran sighs tired above him. "That's alright baobei. You'll recall soon enough." No he won't! Chu Wanning tries to pull his owns from Mo Ran's dangerously tight grasp. He can feel the ring of bruises that will follow him the next morning already. 

All at once he knows who he needs to call. 

"Taxian-jun?" He calls out unsure. If his theory is right Mo Ran must truly believe he is Taxian-jun. He just has to play his cards right and make a run for it. It seems to work appropriately as Mo Ran's eyes clear and his grip softens.

Now or never. 

Chu Wanning gathers all his strength and pushes Mo Ran off with such a forces he knocks the small table down with him as he makes his swift getaway. He hears the cackling mad laughter that follows as he refuses to turn his head back from the open doored study and right through the dreadful hallways of this damned mansion. 

The painting turn their heads as he runs past them. The walls seem to ring with mocking laughter that follows even after he makes countless turns in this mansion. Even the statues seem to bleed tears of joy as he tries to escape this madness. 

And at every turn there he is. 

Mo Ran. 

"Baobei, you know me." Chu Wanning runs the opposite turn. He appears anyway.

"Please, Wanning, you wound me." He makes his way down the stairs with the ghost of a handsome man making no move to chase him. He simply stand there with open arms and dark pleading expression. 

"My dear Wanning, you can't leave." Chu Wanning is panting when finally he feels the cold grasp of ghost arms around him, hugging him close. "You must stay." They tighten and threaten to take his breath away as if he wasn't already on the verge of hyperventilating. "Husband, please."

He's mad.

Then everything turns dark.

■ ■ ■

He's in my arms.

He won't ever have to leave. 

He will remember soon enough. 

He'll still marry him regardless. 

He vows that he'll be his.

Then he will never leave him again. 

■ ■ ■

Chu Wanning wakes up in wedding robes. Mo Ran is right beside him. 

The ceremony continues on. 

It's finally stopped raining yet he feels his own downfall before him. 

The vows are being said. Mo Ran looks at him with so much love and adoration. But he doesn't know the his husband to be. He can't even imagine what his ghost groom will do to him if he can never escape. 

Mo Ran-no-Taxian-jun- graciously says 'i do' . He doesn't know what he can do. He looks at him expectantly with sharp eyes that threaten to dagger him in his sleep if he doesn't utter those two binding words. 

He's powerless to do anything else so he does the only thing he can.

"I do." He utters sealing his fate as he's handed a red cup. One that he knows as soon as he drinks that he will spill and forever be bound to Mo Ran. He already said he'll take him husband in life and death. 

It seems he prefers death. 

He drinks the poison.