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Ruan Nanzhu gazes out his bedroom window at the garden below, eyebrows knitted, lips pursed into a tight, straight line. He stares blankly at the few colored leaves that have started to fall, scattered haphazardly over the grass below. It’s the same scene as from years past—the ones from his memories. Absentmindedly, he fumbles in his pocket, pulling out a tiny globe, shiny and pink.
Unwrapping the cellophane, he plops the candy into his mouth.
Something dark and pensive clouds his face. It’s a look he’s been wearing for the past week.
Ever since Lin Qiushi started noticing things…
***
“I need one.”
“No you don’t.”
They’d finished their workout, and, as he was prone to do, Lin Qiushi reached immediately for a cigarette. Before he could grab the lighter, though, Ruan Nanzhu snatched it away.
“Why not?”
“Because you don’t smoke,” he said cooly. Ruan Nanzhu hated smoking. It smelled bad, tasted bad. But most importantly, it’s what forced Lin Qiushi into the doors.
“But, I do… now.” He’d looked back up at Ruan Nanzhu, a bit pitifully.
Ruan Nanzhu froze. Unconsciously he turned to stare at him.
He knew how smart Lin Qiushi was, how capable. If he’d noticed this change…
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” he said after a beat, pulling the cigarette from Lin Qiushi’s mouth. Then he gave a wave of his hand. “Now, take a shower and go downstairs. Yanxue’s tired of cooking and I’m getting hungry.”
Lin Qiushi’s eyes narrowed. “Then why don’t you make dinner?”
“Because I miss your noodles…”
Lin Qiushi merely rolled his eyes, didn’t say anything more. But it was enough. Enough for Ruan Nanzhu to feel like he was standing on the edge of a large precipice.
Lin Qiushi never asked a lot of questions. That didn’t mean he wasn’t thinking.
And then, to make matters worse, the 12th door suddenly closed.
Whaa? Why is the 12th door now sealed!?
Yes! I saw it too!! I thought I was imagining things…
What does it mean??
Ruan Nanzhu sat next to Lin Qiushi in bed, surreptitiously peering over his shoulder as he flipped through the door forums. The screen was packed with comments, all discussing this momentous new development.
Ruan Nanzhu felt his stomach drop. Such a change… it was too abrupt, too shocking to go unnoticed. He turned to Lin Qiushi, watching him with apprehension.
Finally, he opened his mouth.
“I’m sleepy,” he said, then put down the phone and turned off the light.
Ruan Nanzhu gazed down at him in the darkness.
No reaction.
Somehow, this was the scariest reaction of all.
***
He stands at the window, hands fidgeting restlessly with the candy wrapper.
What would he think of me? It’s the question that’s been playing on repeat, plaguing him for the past week—like a door ghost who’s found his weakness, refusing to let him go.
You’re not even human…
He can’t quite remember it clearly, but he’s aware there was a time when he’d watched Lin Qiushi go through the doors—when all he wanted was to be closer to him. To be similar enough that he might not see him as something strange and unapproachable. Might feel a connection.
More than anything, he’d wanted to be human.
And for a while, he really thought he was…
But it had all been a lie.
He lets out a breath, pulling the wrapper tighter into his fist.
Even Lin Qiushi’s life was now full of fabrications. His memories had all been twisted beyond recognition. As a door god, changing a person’s memories hadn’t seemed like such a big deal. As a human, it seemed unconscionable.
I should have gone easier on him… shouldn’t have changed so much…
His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of Lin Qiushi coming in. Unconsciously, he stiffens, keeping his gaze fixed on the garden outside.
Lin Qiushi flops down on the bed. “Ye Niao is inviting people over for hot pot. Wants me to ask if there’s any particular ingredients you want?”
“No fish balls,” he says, still not turning around.
“…Really? Still??”
“No.”
“They don’t even taste like fish…”
Lin Qiushi squints at the back of Ruan Nanzhu’s head.
What’s he thinking, anyway?? During the time he’d known Ruan Nanzhu, his personality had undergone a complete transformation. His stern demeanor had warped into something playful, teasing—more and more like… like Zhu Meng. But in the past week, something had changed. It was as though he’d suddenly reverted back to his old self, once again becoming the stern head of Obsidian, hard and impassive, like a rock.
“What are you looking at?” Lin Qiushi asks, nodding toward the window in an attempt to get his attention. He’d been so quiet lately…
Ruan Nanzhu merely shakes his head.
“That tree?” he asks, not giving up. “What’s so interesting about it?”
When he doesn’t immediately get a response, he continues. “Is it staring back at you?”
“Maybe…” Ruan Nanzhu mumbles. Lin Qiushi can hear a touch of sulking in his voice.
Lin Qiushi smiles. “Should I be jealous?” And then, without missing a beat, “Are you going to turn into a tree now?”
Ruan Nanzhu’s head suddenly whips around to look at him, eyes wide.
Well, he thinks with a laugh. That got his attention.
The surprise in his expression then starts to morph, shaping into something panicked, pleading.
Lin Qiushi ignores it. Instead, he flops onto the bed, stretching out his limbs. “Nanzhu, I’m sleepy. Doing nothing all day is actually quite tiring.” He pats the bed next to him. “Come take a nap with me.”
He really shouldn’t mess with him like this. But… given the circumstances, a little torture seems only fair.
Ruan Nanzhu doesn’t move. He stays by the window, seemingly frozen.
Lin Qiushi continues to stretch out, languidly closing his eyes.
It’s a good several seconds of pretending to rest before he hears Nanzhu make a move, slowly approaching the bed. Lin Qiushi opens his eyes a crack, watching him crawl in, curling up next to him. Lin Qiushi feels something pulling at his insides. He looks incredibly… small.
Then he turns his head up, meeting Lin Qiushi’s gaze, his eyes big, imploring saucers.
Lin Qiushi can’t help but laugh. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” Ruan Nanzhu asks, meekly.
“Don’t look at me with those giant Zhu Meng eyes.”
Ruan Nanzhu’s brow furrows in confusion. “…Giant Zhu Meng eyes?”
Lin Qiushi merely shakes his head. He knows Nanzhu isn’t consciously trying to be manipulative. He’s just so damn good at it, it’s part of his nature at this point.
“So…” Lin Qiushi begins. He figures it’s time the two of them had a talk.
At the tonal shift, Ruan Nanzhu’s whole body seems to stiffen. He quickly looks away, staring at the sheets in front of him. His brow furrows so tight he almost appears to be wincing. Lin Qiushi looks down at him in amazement. They’ve been through so many doors together. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen him this scared.
Lin Qiushi sighs, figuring they might as well get this over with. “I always wonder,” he says, his tone curious. “What do you think the door ghosts do all the time? When people aren’t being led through?”
Ruan Nanzhu doesn’t answer. He continues to stare down at the blanket below, his expression slightly pained. Finally, he opens his mouth. “I think they can see in all the different doors,” he mutters. “So… they watch people going through.”
“Uh hu.” Lin Qiushi sits up in interest, propping himself against the headboard. “That’s it?” He looks down at Ruan Nanzhu. “Doesn’t that get boring?”
Hesitantly, Ruan Nanzhu looks back up at him. His eyes are big and questioning, as if wondering where all this could be going.
Lin Qiushi meets his gaze, his expression casual.
Ruan Nanzhu looks down in defeat. “Very boring…” he mutters, seeming to accept the fact that he must walk blindly into unknown territory.
Lin Qiushi keeps his eyes fixed on Ruan Nanzhu. “So why do they keep doing it?”
Ruan Nanzhu sighs. “There’s really nothing at all to do inside the doors. Watching people go through… that’s pretty much the only option.”
Thoughtfully, Lin Qiushi nods. “So… how do you think the ghosts react?” he asks, keeping up the theoretical façade. He’s not sure why. Maybe it will be easier on Nanzhu if they talk like this, as ridiculous as it seems. “Do you think they find the humans interesting?”
“Ha.” Nanzhu lets out a dry laugh. “Of course not. People everywhere, they’re all the same.” He shakes his head. “They always make the same mistakes. Either they’re naïve and die easily, or they become poisonous and rotten.” He sighs. “Either way… they lose their beauty.”
Lin Qiushi gazes down at him, studying his face. He can see an exhaustion in his eyes, a bitter resignation. He wonders what it must have been like for him—all those years inside the door.
But he doesn’t know how to ask all that. Instead he asks simply, “They’re always like that?”
“Always.” His answer is immediate. But then his eyes turn upward, gazing at Lin Qiushi with such a look of adoration, of longing, he almost feels himself blush. “With one exception,” he whispers.
Lin Qiushi swallows. “Just one?”
Ruan Nanzhu nods. His eyes remain on him, boring into him with an intensity that makes him want to look away. “And that one is so different, so special, that he makes a pathetic, lonesome ghost want to leave everything… everything he’s ever known. To be human. To create a whole nother life. Just to be with him.” His voice is strained. Desperate. Like he is hopelessly trying to explain— pleading with Lin Qiushi to understand.
Seeing him like this, Lin Qiushi feels like his heart is being mercilessly tugged at. It takes every ounce of strength not to just wrap his arms around him, to tell him not to worry. To kiss his head, and tell him that everything will be fine.
But he forces his expression to remain steady. He won’t give in. Not yet. Not until some things are made clear.
Lin Qiushi looks down at him directly, his expression suddenly turning hard.
“How long have you known?” His voice is low. Accusatory.
If there is one thing Lin Qiushi can’t stand, it’s being lied to. Nanzhu lied to him once, in the Hako Onna door. He won’t stand for it again. And… if it turns out he knew all along… that he’s been lying to him this entire time… Well, that could crush him. That could break his heart.
Ruan Nanzhu talks urgently. “I had no idea! Not until the last door… My memories were erased!”
Lin Qiushi cocks an eyebrow. “Were erased?”
At this, Ruan Nanzhu’s eyes drop downward. He is silent for a moment. “Well…” Lin Qiushi watches his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “To be precise… I erased them…”
So, there it was. Ruan Nanzhu knew what he was doing. At least he had, back when he’d made the plan to change both of their memories. Of course, that was before Lin Qiushi had ever met him. But it wasn’t before Ruan Nanzhu knew him. At that point, he’d already been watching him. Probably for a long time.
Lin Qiushi lets out a breath. He isn’t shocked really, or surprised. He’d suspected as much. Still. The number of lies he’s been fed could fill up several lifetimes.
But… part of that lie is that there is a man named Ruan Nanzhu. Who loves him. Who has been by his side through countless dangers and obstacles. Who wants to be with him. And though Lin Qiushi can’t exactly wrap his head around what parts of that story are real and what aren’t, maybe… maybe none of that matters. As long as the love is real. As long as it’s real to him. And real to Ruan Nanzhu.
Any world without him would be false.
He lets out a long breath. Deep down, he’d known this all along.
He slides back down onto the bed, taking Ruan Nanzhu’s head in his hands. Slowly, he scans his face. It’s still miserable, wearing an extremely pitiful stare. But it’s also beautiful. So excruciatingly beautiful that he feels a sharp ache in his chest, full of longing. Unable to hold back any longer, he leans forward, planting a long, deep kiss on his lips.
“I’m really glad you’re back,” he whispers. “Whoever you are.”
The anxious expression Ruan Nanzhu has been wearing this whole time finally starts to dissipate, replaced by something tentative, hopeful.
Lin Qiushi drops his hands. Slowly, he collapses backwards onto the pillow.
After a moment, Ruan Nanzhu slides next to him, resting his head beside him.
They simply lie in silence.
Eventually though, Lin Qiushi’s curiosity starts to pester him again. “So… what about now?” he asks, thoughtfully. “Do you have your memories back?”
“Mm,” Ruan Nanzhu nods, looking much more relaxed. “But only some of them. They are just now starting to return.”
“And…?” Lin Qiushi asks, full of interest. “What was it like in there?”
“I don’t know.” He turns to gaze admiringly at Lin Qiushi. “I mostly remember watching you…”
Lin Qiushi smirks, rolling his eyes. “You didn’t have parties in there with all the other door ghosts?”
Now it’s Ruan Nanzhu’s turn to roll his eyes. “They’re not exactly social creatures.”
Lin Qiushi looks thoughtful. “So… you didn’t talk to anyone?”
Ruan Nanzhu shakes his head.
For a while, Lin Qiushi stares blankly at the ceiling. Then he leans over, resting his head gently on Ruan Nanzhu’s shoulder. “Sounds lonely…” he mutters.
Ruan Nanzhu leans toward him, letting his head settle on top of Lin Qiushi’s. “It was.”
They fall back into silence.
“Don’t lie to me again,” Lin Qiushi suddenly warns, his face turning serious.
“I won’t,” he replies, softly.
Lin Qiushi sighs, again losing himself in his thoughts. Abruptly though, he turns, staring at the handsome face beside him. “So… what’s your true form look like, anyway?”
Ruan Nanzhu smiles, seemingly amused. Then he shakes his head. “That… I really don’t remember. I’ve thought about it, but I don’t have a clear impression.” He shrugs. Suddenly though, his expression shifts, as if remembering something important. He sits up.
“But… in the interest of full disclosure, I should tell you that I have recently discovered that I can do this…”
Lin Qiushi watches him, feeling a growing sense of apprehension.
Ruan Nanzhu looks off into the distance. Suddenly, his features start to distort. The hard edge of his jawline becomes softer, rounder—matching the curve of his neck, which has suddenly become more delicate. His hair also begins to lengthen, extending until it stretches all the way down his back, flowing into a graceful, shining waterfall.
A pair of dark, sparkling eyes turn back to Lin Qiushi. They are Zhu Meng’s. Not merely those of Ruan Nanzhu in drag—a man with make up on. The person sitting in front of him—he… she… is every bit a woman—maybe even more so than inside the doors.
Lin Qiushi stares, his brain seeming to short circuit. He isn’t sure why, but he finds himself getting up off the bed, standing to look at her. Okay… he thinks, solemnly. So… Nanzhu can shapeshift now. Cool. Cool…
Zhu Meng smiles giddily. “Isn’t it awesome?? And here, look at this…” She lifts the overly large men’s dress shirt she’s still wearing, revealing two round breasts—very perky and very real.
Lin Qiushi swallows. The sight is not altogether unappealing. But frankly… it’s too much. I was always a very strict materialist! he thinks with exasperation. Why is the universe doing this to me??
Zhu Meng then nods excitedly in the direction of her crotch. “Everything down below is correct too!” she says with a proud grin, like a child with a new toy.
“Uh hu,” Lin Qiushi nods, blankly. He has a feeling their sex is about to get a lot more complicated… The thought of all the role playing that’s likely to be involved is already making his head hurt.
“I can become other people, too! Wanna see…?” Again, her features begin to distort…
Lin Qiushi quickly throws up his hands. “No, no… that’s okay!”
The distortion stops. Ruan Nanzhu’s face returns to that of Zhu Meng, her lips curled into a slight pout. She looks a bit wronged.
Lin Qiushi swallows, sensing the need to tread lightly. “That’s… a really impressive skill,” he says slowly. “It’s just… I just… I like your original form the best.”
The face in front of him suddenly turns back into Ruan Nanzhu’s. He’s wearing a delighted smile.
Lin Qiushi lets out a breath. He seems to have gotten that right.
Ruan Nanzhu reaches forward, grabbing his wrist. “Come here,” he says with a mischievous grin. And then, with one very slight, almost imperceptible pull, he yanks Lin Qiushi flush on top of him.
His strength is formidable. Inhuman.
Lin Qiushi stares down at him, taking in the large, almond shaped eyes, the two little dots sitting delicately underneath. The sight makes his heart swell.
Ruan Nanzhu gazes back at him, his playful expression once again turning serious.
“Thank you…” he whispers, softly.
Lin Qiushi understands—knows what he is thanking him for. For forgiving him. Accepting him.
But honestly, he can’t think about any of that anymore. All he can feel is his own gratitude. He shakes his head. “Thank you,” he whispers back. “For coming home.”
Ruan Nanzhu blinks a few times in surprise. Then, a soft warmth fills his face.
Lin Qiushi takes it in, suddenly overwhelmed. A feeling of happiness—more powerful than he knows what to do with—inundates his chest.
It’s the feeling of having a full life ahead of him. And someone to share it with.
He leans down. As he meets Ruan Nanzhu’s lips, his mind blurs.