Chapter Text
Throughout this young man's life, there haven't been many surprises.
His family is loving and financially stable; throughout his childhood, they've lived in a comfortable suburban house, with plenty of space to play and run around in. He ate the most delicious and nutritious food, made by his doting mother, and wore the highest quality of clothes, designer brands tailor-made for him. He also lived an active lifestyle, always jogging in the park early in the morning and working out in the gym in the evenings.
Born blessed with dashingly good looks, excellent brains, and charming wit, the young man had plenty of friends and rivals, and stories of his brilliance spread like wildfire everywhere he went. Girls and boys alike all fell at his feet, chasing his favour. He graduated from medical school at the top of his class and advanced his studies, specializing in stem cell research, becoming one of the youngest in the country to get a PhD in the field. Now working for a renowned private medical institution's laboratory, he's amassed enough wealth to live alone with only a dog for company, on a landed property with a lawn right at the edge of the city, with a car of his own.
To conclude, he is God's chosen one; he gets everything in life served on gold platters. Whatever he wants, the universe will give.
Unfortunately, that is also Li Lianhua's only flaw. He actually… doesn't really want anything. How can he want, when there's this empty hole in his heart? He's accepted all those blessings he didn't ask for, smooth sailing through 30 years of living, feeling like a tattered rag. Something is missing. There are too many things missing.
Maybe it's food. He tried to indulge himself with greasy, strong flavours. The richest of wines and cheese, the rarest gourmet. He even tried the complete opposite, living on convenience store food and instant noodles. He learned to cook by taking formal classes from private chefs or by watching recipe videos on social media.
Maybe it's clothes. He tried growing his hair out, tying it in a high ponytail during his freshman years. Then he chopped it all off, just because. He wore vividly bright clothes, starkly ostentatious in the crowd of harried, anxious med students. After he graduated, his fashion sense matured as well, settling on gentle earth tones, but pictures of him taken surreptitiously by adoring fans and envious haters still circulate online, influencing trends on campus even after he left.
Maybe it's friends. For some reason, he's always been wary of the people around him. Though he has a wide circle of friends, privately he considers them more acquaintances and colleagues rather than life companions. He keeps his circles separate – drinking partners, work colleagues, gym comrades. The only one he trusts is his dog. Well, also maybe that martial arts athlete brick wall with facial paralysis Di Feisheng, who self-proclaimed to be his rival during high school. He's trustworthy because he's an idiot and is straightforward, so that's that. He tries to gain more meaningful relationships, meeting new people and catching up with old acquaintances.
But everything Li Lianhua tries is all in vain.
They leave him emptier, more aware of the void. He goes to work every day, plastering a cool smile on his handsome face, greeting his colleagues and patients warmly but perfunctorily. At the end of every day, he takes his dog for a walk and sits alone to stare at the moon in the sky. The emptiness swells, threatening to spill. One day, he whispers.
“God, I've never believed in you before, but I can't stand it anymore. Please, return my heart to me.”
Li Lianhua is the chosen one; whatever he wants, the universe will give.
The next day, he finds an unconscious young man on his doorstep.
Even if you leave me again, no matter what, this young master will never give up looking for you.
1.
Li Lianhua rubs his eyes confusedly. He parks his car and sits in silence at his wheel. This is his house… right? He squints through his round glasses, checking the name on the mailbox reflected in his side mirror. It's ‘Li,’ with the house number, 49, brightly emblazoned under it. Then… who's this person slumped against the entrance to his house? Is he unconscious? Wait, is he dead? Li Lianhua slowly gets out, belatedly realizing the heavy rain pounding against the roof of his car. He opens his umbrella and walks over to the person getting soaked.
Yes, this is a stranger, probably in his late teenage years. He's dressed quite strangely, in an outfit often seen in costume idol dramas – is this the revival of a traditional clothing fad? Or perhaps a cosplayer. Hair tied in a high ponytail secured by a silver crown embedded with pearls, the stranger even has an ornate sword, jade pendant dangling from the grip, clutched close to himself. Quite a high-quality costume, Li Lianhua thinks, a glance confirming the other's clothes to be of finely embroidered silk. He gingerly steps closer, placing a hand on the stranger's shoulder.
“Brother, wake up, what are you doing sleeping in front of my house?”
Through the wet fabric, Li Lianhua feels waves of heat emanating from the stranger's body. He takes a nearer look, puts his fingers under the unconscious young man's nose, and confirms his suspicions. A fever, and a serious one. As if to confirm his observation, the other breaks into deep hacking coughs. Li Lianhua's eyes narrow. He takes out his phone, ready to call an ambulance to the nearest hospital.
“…Li… Li Lianhua…”
The soft, ragged whisper stops him in his tracks.
“Li Lianhua, where are you…”
2.
Looking at the mud streaks on his floors, Li Lianhua quietly laments the cleaning he must do later, but first, he needs to treat the shivering unconscious stranger lying on his sofa. He's unsure what had come over him; suddenly, he'd already slung him over his back and trudged into his house, abandoning all intentions of calling emergency services. Li Lianhua stands in a trance, thinking about what he needs to do next. He might be a licensed physician himself, but he's been working in research these past years; handling common colds wasn't exactly his strong suit.
“Ah.” A grimace.
“He needs to bathe.”
3.
Li Lianhua runs the tap. As the bathtub in his bathroom fills with warm water, he rummages in his wardrobe for a set of clothes that will fit the stranger, and a spare towel. He finds an oversized sweater and a pair of unopened cotton pyjamas, crammed at the very back, a gift from a friend he barely remembers. Another minute of scrabbling around yields a big fluffy towel. Perfect, Li Lianhua thinks, as he puts the clothes in a basket and brings it to the guest room. The young man will like these novel, soft and comfy fabrics, he's sure.
… Why does he know that? Li Lianhua frowns slightly, before shaking his head. He vaguely feels there's something wrong with him ever since he laid his eyes on the stranger. It isn't like him to do things unthinkingly like he is doing right now, but there seems to be a voice in his heart pulling him along. Maybe he can get some answers when the stranger recovers later.
He makes his way back to the living room. Though Li Lianhua's already switched on the heating, the ambient warmth in the room doesn't alleviate the stranger's chills. Kneeling beside him, Li Lianhua places a gentle hand on the young man's forehead, confirming the persistent fever. The young man clings tightly to the scabbard, his unconscious murmurs growing more audible. He calls out. “Mother, it's so cold… Father, where are you?”
The bathtub has filled halfway; Li Lianhua cautiously dips his hand in to test the temperature. It's comfortable. He pours in some bubble wash; the young man needs a good scrub, as he's been lying on the ground of Li Lianhua's lawn for nobody knows how long. There was even mud in his long hair.
He leaves the bathroom and goes back to the young man. “Brother, I'm sorry for being rude, but I'll have to bathe you. Please don't sue me, you appeared on my doorstep looking like a soggy wet teabag.” Li Lianhua mutters as he pries the sword from the young man's fingers, putting it carefully aside on his coffee table, before undressing him. “This is a very good costume; how many layers is this outfit?! …Can I machine-wash them?”
Li Lianhua then discovers he's wearing traditional-style undergarments. Slowly he lifts the unconscious stranger into his arms and carefully makes his way to the bathroom. The stranger frowns and weakly struggles in his arms, but Li Lianhua shushes him gently. “Little friend, relax, you're safe here.”
“Li Lianhua…”
Li Lianhua almost dropped the young man at the sudden whisper of his name. He has never seen this young man before in his entire life, how does he know this name? Li Lianhua is a pseudonym he adopted after beginning his career and settling down away from the world; everyone else should know him as Li Xiangyi. Even those die-hard admirers who chased him back in college haven't managed to find out the relationship between the arrogant genius Li Xiangyi who immediately disappeared after graduation, and the laid-back, gentle Li Lianhua, one of the many researchers at Lotus Tower Biomedical Institute.
“Brother, you're scaring me. How do you know my name? Are you a fan of me?” Li Lianhua jokes lightly, as he lowers the young man into the bathtub, taking care to make sure his long hair stays outside. “Don't trouble me, I'm just trying to live well in peace.” He undoes the knots on the sides of the white shirt and pants, and they slip off the other's frame easily, floating in the water. Li Lianhua sighs and begins to rinse the mud out of his hair, taking off the silver crown in the process.
He squeezes a generous dollop of unscented shampoo onto his palm, lathering it thoroughly into the young man's hair. Li Lianhua cards his fingers through the long black strands, separating tangles. For some reason, he feels the urge to be extra gentle and careful with this stranger, like holding a piece of valuable porcelain. He presses his scalp well; the young man groans almost inaudibly, the worried crease between his eyebrows smoothing.
Li Lianhua starts to sponge the young man's body, with a new loofah he found in the cupboards. Skin pearly-white and supple from top to toe, the young man seems to be a person who takes care of his appearance well. Yet as Li Lianhua turns him to the side to scrub his back, his gaze falls on a terrible scar on the young man's waist. A pang of inexplicable despair grips his heart, and he traces the healed wound with a trembling finger. “Brother, what happened to you?”
He doesn't linger anymore, he can always apply ointments and anti-scar lotions later, so he quickly finishes up. Li Lianhua drains the tub and rinses all the soap and shampoo away. The vapour from the fresh warm water fogs up the glass in the bathroom; Li Lianhua himself needs a shower. He's exhausted from work today and had been planning to just throw himself into bed, but now the stranger takes priority. At least he has tomorrow off. He towels the young man dry, wrapping his long hair into another towel to later dry, and carries him into the guest room.
Li Lianhua drags the duvet to the side with one hand. With multiple pillows supporting the other's body upright, he then begins to dress the young man in the cotton pyjamas, his touch careful and tender. The stranger is quiet, body relaxed, no longer shivering. His head droops to the side, gradually leaning against Li Lianhua's chest as the doctor dries and combs his hair.
Li Lianhua then pulls him up on the bed, and carefully takes away the extra pillows, leaving a single fluffy one for his head. The young man's silky long hair fanned over it, like a river of freshly ground ink. Li Lianhua paused. He never really thought that there would be a time he'd be using the word 'beautiful' to describe a man, but the stranger looks ethereal, like a divine being. Why is such a person lying unconscious on his doorstep?
4.
After making sure the stranger is settled into bed and is sleeping peacefully, Li Lianhua heads into the kitchen. A quick and warm nutritious meal is what they both need, so he decides to whip up some congee for the night. He looks at the clock, surprised to see it's still bright outside, only just been an hour or so since he got home and found the sopping rag outside his house.
Li Lianhua hums as he washes some rice and diced chicken. Congee was the very first food he learned to make, following a recipe his mother learnt from a neighbourhood grandpa in her youth. He remembers it well; the first week after leaving his life as Li Xiangyi, he caught a cold and was all alone in a shabby, rented apartment. He could have had delivery, but he just wanted homemade congee. So, he sent a message to his mum for the recipe. His mother was, of course, worried and distressed over him, wanting to send his brother Xiangxian over with some food and medicine, but Li Lianhua managed to persuade her to calm down with a phone call. “Mother, big brother is on the other side of the city, it's too far and I don't want to bother him. It's just a light cold, I'll be better after sleeping it off.”
His mother's voice crackled over the phone. “Xiangyi... Fine, I'll send you Grandpa Qi Mushan's recipe, but make sure you eat medicine and go to sleep immediately after eating!” It was a simple recipe anyway, just chicken, rice, some ginger, salt, and scallions – Li Xiangyi should be able to handle it just fine.
Yet Li Lianhua remembers that first congee he made - a congealed lump of barely broken-down rice and haphazard chunks of chicken. Probably too little water. It was salty; he spilled half the jar of salt into the pot from his hands trembling too much. But Li Lianhua gladly gobbled it up, his entire body warming up as the congee gently settled in his stomach. He then took his medicine, and immediately fell asleep, cosy in his blankets. The next morning, he woke up refreshed and well, all traces of his cold gone except for some sniffles.
Since then, Li Lianhua has perfected the art of congee, even adding his own twists to the original recipe. But tonight, he makes the simplest and the tastiest of them all; the congee that warmed him up on a cold, lonely night, 10 years ago.
5.
Li Lianhua leaves the congee to bubble merrily on the stovetop, to let it simmer down to the perfect consistency. He takes a quick shower and changes into clean and warm clothes. When he got out of his room and back into the kitchen, Li Lianhua put some water to boil and rummaged around his medicine cabinet for fever medication he's stashed for emergencies.
He steeps some tea in a small pot and begins to assemble two hearty bowls of congee, sprinkling chopped scallions and fried onions. Li Lianhua arranges the bowls and everything else onto a tray, then carefully carries it to the guest room, pushing the door open with his foot. He places the tray on the bedside table, before poking lightly on the sleeping stranger's shoulders.
“Brother, wake up. You need to eat something.”
The young man stirs, eyes fluttering open, still glazed with fever. He weakly tries to sit up. “…Where am I?” he croaked hoarsely. “In my home,” Li Lianhua replied gently, one hand supporting his back. “You were lying unconscious outside my door, so I brought you in.” The young man blinked at him. “Oh.”
Li Lianhua doesn't continue to ask, instead handing him one of the bowls of congee. “Be careful, it's still hot. Mix it around a little to cool it down.” The other takes it, and sniffs tentatively, before scooping up a hearty spoonful into his mouth. “It's delicious!” his eyes widen in surprise. “You can cook well?!”
Li Lianhua sputters into his mug of tea, slightly affronted. “Well, my mother says the food I make has a place in her three-star Michelin restaurant, so I guess I do have some skills.” His sarcasm is wasted, however, as the boy continues inhaling the congee with lethargic gusto, giving him an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “… I have more in the kitchen if you need seconds.”
As the boy ate, colour returned to his cheeks, and his eyes lost some of their feverish haze. Li Lianhua watches him helplessly, eating his own congee slowly, a mix of relief and curiosity swirling in his chest. “So, brother, can you tell me your name?" he asked, seeing the other finally sighing contentedly at his empty bowl.
The young boy hesitates for a moment. “Fang Duobing,” he says quietly. “My name is Fang Duobing.”
Li Lianhua raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Many illnesses?” Fang Duobing waves his hand dismissively, “I was sickly and weak in my childhood, my parents didn't dare give me a name for fear I wouldn't survive. Fortunately, I've safely grown up, and entered the world, making my way through the rivers and the lakes. People either call me Young Hero Fang, or the Young Master of Many Sorrows. Many sorrows, many illnesses, isn't that an elegant name worthy of this young master?”
Li Lianhua doesn't know whether to cry or laugh. It's rare to find such superstitious names in this modern world, and to refer to yourself as ' Young Hero' or 'Young Master' with such confidence… The way he speaks is straight out of ancient period dramas, showing just how committed Fang Duobing is to the bit. Well, unless he's delusional. In the end, Li Lianhua can only grimace, deciding to wait a little longer before passing judgment.
“What about you? What's your name?” The question is hesitant. Li Lianhua senses a tinge of hopeful expectancy; he also sees Fang Duobing's white, slender fingers curling tighter around the spoon. He's slightly surprised - didn't the boy already know who he is?
“Li Lianpeng.”
“Li Lianpeng?” Contrary to expectations, the boy isn't too surprised with his perfunctory answer. “Did you come from Lianhua Village near Lianhua Mountain, and have siblings named Lianzi, Lian'ou, and Lianye?” He stared piercingly, enunciating his words firmly. Li Lianhua is struck speechless and can only weakly reveal the truth. “… Well, to be honest, Lianpeng's my older brother's name. I am Li Lianhua.” Big brother Xiangxian, sorry. He can just imagine his brother's disapproving scowl. Anyway, there's no doubt that the boy knows who he is.
Fang Duobing hums. “… You look different than I remember.” He throws a glance around. “And this doesn't seem to be a place I recognize.”
“Have we met before?”
“Of course we have! I'm your very, very best friend, and your only confidante.”
(TBC)