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The sun was just beginning to rise, its golden light seeping through the kitchen window. Mo Ran carefully measured out flour into a large bowl, mixing it with sweetly smelling cocoa powder. At this hour kitchen was quiet, with only gentle hum of refrigerator to keep him company. Clock on the wall was ticking slowly, as if to not shatter the peaceful morning. He had been up before dawn, as sleep was scarce lately, but he didn’t mind, at least not today. He had his day carefully planned and it needed to be perfect.
Today was Chu Wanning's birthday.
As he mixed dry and wet ingredients together, Mo Ran counted in mind previous birthdays they celebrated together and silly smile bloomed on his face. Determined to find perfect cake that would fit both his and Chu Wanning’s taste, he came with this recipe. It was quite simple, layers of chocolate cake and sweet, vanilla buttercream turned out to be match made in heaven. Wanning’s eyes always sparkled with joy when he was presented with cake. Even when he tried to cover it with stoic expression, those eyes, carefully taking in sweet pastry before him, betrayed his sweet tooth. There was always a smile playing on Wanning’s lips, when he patiently waited for Mo Ran to cut each of them huge piece.
Summer heat became more noticeable as Mo Ran poured batter into round cake pans and slid them into preheated oven. The familiar scent of chocolate soon filled the kitchen, warm and comforting, and he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. While cake baked, Mo Ran turned his attention to the frosting. Buttercream had to be just right – smooth, creamy, and sweet, way too sweet for him to eat without chocolate cake to balance it. As for Chu Wanning, if he could, he would probably eat it straight from the bowl…
Once cakes were cooled and frosting prepared, Mo Ran carefully assembled layers, spreading the buttercream evenly between them. His hands were steady, practiced from years of making this very cake, and yet he couldn’t hide slight shaking of his fingers as he worked. Finishing with cake, he decorated it with small, sugar flowers, wanting it to both look pretty and be delicious. Mo Ran stepped back, to look at cake. It looked perfect, the testament of his love held in all this de
licate sweetness. Mo Ran felt as if this cake was way more than just dessert – it was as if he put his deepest feelings into it, layering it with every memory they were able to create together. With cake in one hand, he turned to grab bouquet of colorful flowers, carefully chosen: dark crimson of roses, light shade of primroses, soft blue and rich pink of hydrangeas. With everything was prepared, Mo Ran left home and started slow walk towards his destination. Despite still smiling and greeting neighbors he met on the way, deep inside he felt tightening grip on his heart. With every careful step he pictured Chu Wanning face, his intelligent, piercing eyes, he’s ears, always so easy to blush and show honest reaction. If he saw all that he prepared for today, would his ears turn into color similar to hydrangeas in the bouquet? The thought was bittersweet.
As his walk continued, Mo Ran thought about first time they met, how striken he was by Chu Wanning’s beauty and how kind he looked. He thought about their first years of knowing each other, of deep misunderstanding that drove them away and how, as if pulled by destiny, they found each other again. With all those memories, all those times together, both good and bad… Mo Ran wouldn’t have it any other way.
And there he was, finally, walking through decorated gate towards journey’s end. He sit down on a bench, placing bouquet of flowers gently on granite surface before him, their rich colors stood out vividly against gray stone. Setting down cake just beside the flowers, he smiled again, eyes misty. With shaking fingers, Mo Ran touched every character that made up Chu Wanning’s name.
„I baked your favourite, baobei. Happy birthday”
Chu Wanning’s patient eyes faced him from the photograph at his tombstone.
„It’s really beautiful today, my heart. Hydrangeas are still in bloom, and lotuses starts to cover surface of the lake. Little girl from second house down our street is starting school soon, can you believe it? She’s already talking off my ears about it – you would surely love to advice her about choosing good career from the start, wouldn’t you?” Mo Ran chuckled, tears welling up in his eyes again. Touch of cold stone under his fingertips was grounding, as if it could connect him with his husband. He felt as if Wanning was right beside him, listening patiently to his tales. He talked until he felt there was no more words, until he felt he poured out his heart and buried it down, yet again, under rich soil, as if that would bear fruit to lessen his grief.
“I miss you Wanning, so much. I miss you every day.” Mo Ran said, his voice breaking. „I miss you at night, when there is empty spot on the bed. I miss you at dawn, when you stole my blanket. I miss you during the day, when I want to tell you something, yet you’re not here. I miss you when I eat my meals alone and I miss you the most when sky gets dark and stars cover the sky, and the Fifth one shines so brightly… as if you’re up there, lending your light to Northern Bear…” He covered his face, overcame with sadness and hopelessness. After a long moment, he straighten up, breathing deeply. Cake’s frosting was already melting in hot weather, and flowers lost a bit of their vibrancy after being in the sun. And yet Mo Ran smiled, a final smile full of love and gratitude for all the years they spend together. „Don’t worry, baobei. We’ll be together again soon. And when that time comes, we’ll have all the time in the world. I’ll promise to bake you many cakes and gift you countless flowers. We’ll watch stars together, and I’ll never stop loving you. But until then, I’ll keep missing you and I’ll carry on living the way you would have wanted me to - with joy, with kindness, and with love.”
With one, last look at tombstone, Mo Ran turned to leave. There was only one thing left to be said.
„Thank you for spending your life with me, Chu Wanning”