Chapter Text
He met him on an ordinary day. That was the way of change, wasn’t it? A rock did not divert the river without the current’s constant flow. It was small at first.
A purple-red tree, standing tall and proud. A minute divot in a flattish stream.
Not quite the color of maple, and with hints of lilac-gray peeking through, like a shy child hiding behind their mother’s legs. The man in white robes and a bamboo hat stopped to stand before it. One hand held steady his walking stick, and the other lifted the brim of his hat, gazing up at the unusual tree.
Then, a break.
“You’ve caught it at a good time,” a man’s voice said.
Xie Lian shifted his weight, and turned to see a tall, elegant man in fine robes gazing at the canopy above. The curve of his mouth was gentle, inexplicably content. Xie Lian stared a moment at the man's profile, before answering. “The lilac does make for a pleasant palette, I think,” Xie Lian asked.
“I can imagine so.” The man turned his head toward Xie Lian. His eyes didn’t dart around like most others’ did, at the cane, to his legs, trying to detect something out of the ordinary. He didn’t even survey his robes, and that was all for the better, as tomorrow was to be Xie Lian’s robe-washing day. Instead, his pretty gaze was fixed on Xie Lian’s eyes, waiting. Xie Lian replayed the man’s last words, neglected by his wandering thoughts. “They typically bloom once every seven decades.”
“You seem to know a lot, my friend,” Xie Lian said.
“Not yet,” the man said, with a mystifying smile.
Despite his enigmatic answer, the man seemed to take joy in hearing Xie Lian’s words. Xie Lian couldn’t help but inquire more. “Do you know why their cycle is longer than most?”
“Perhaps the tree was waiting for someone like you to come along and notice it,” the man responded with a playful tone.
If the rock was stable enough not to get thrown into the rapids or eroded down by rushing water, it might stay, but the water would circle back around.
That was the way of most change, wasn’t it?
As if unchanged.
Xie Lian couldn’t help but breathe out a short laugh, in surprise. Someone like you. Those words sounded different, when spoken from this man's mouth. “Don’t tease, my friend.”
The man’s eyes alighted on Xie Lian’s one eye then the other, and back to the first. “This one would not dare,” he said with surprising humbleness.
One expected a rock, a boulder at most.
Xie Lian wondered who this young man was, who wore fine robes and smiled in riddles, but spoke with such deference. Answering Xie Lian's original question, he said, “They’re called century plants. It’s a misnomer, actually. Most century plants bloom closer to a decade or two.”
“Century plants, huh?” Xie Lian chuckled to himself. He took a moment to breathe deeply the leafy, floral air.
“Well, my friend, I won't keep you too long,” Xie Lian said, as he turned from the tree. The man must've come here to meet someone, or enjoy the tree in solitude.
“May I join you?” the man asked.
What a polite young man.
“Oh, don't worry, my leg has gotten a lot better over the past . . .” Xie Lian paused. “The past year,” he finished.
If the man noticed his near slip-up, he didn't show it on his face. Instead, he smiled and said, “Daozhang, I was just thinking I'd rather be looking at you than this tree.”
Xie Lian's face warmed slightly, and cooled almost as quickly. Without harsh judgment, he thought that his man should speak plainly. If he was concerned about a man with a cane, he could just say so, rather than making random excuses.
“Yes, well.” Xie Lian trailed off. He cleared his throat.
“I was forward,” the man apologized. “If I made you uncomfortable . . .”
“Ah, no!” Xie Lian said, resisting the urge to laugh nervously. So he was flirting! It wasn't a joke. “Not at all, sorry, I misunderstood. Walk with me?”
“Gege has no need to apologize,” the man said.
They walked in silence save for the sound of Xie Lian's cane and their matching footsteps. The man didn't speak, and Xie Lian glanced sideways at the man as they cut a path through the grass.
The man's eyes were trained forward. Xie Lian looked away, and then glanced to the left again. This time, the man's head was tilted towards Xie Lian, such that both eyes caught Xie Lian's gaze.
“Are you from around these parts, my friend?” Xie Lian asked. “You look . . .” Wealthy, he didn't say. He was getting better at being less crass, nowadays.
“I’m not too far from here. What did Daozhang think of this one's appearance?”
Ah, screw it. “Wealthy?” Xie Lian said. It sounded more like a question.
The man laughed kindly, with a sparkle in his eyes, his voice charming like the winds of thawing snow.
“Gege is right, and is there more you see?”
“Well, of course,” Xie Lian said without pause. “You're clearly a handsome and confident man, who knows a lot about trees and other worldly matters. You're straightforward too, surprisingly.”
Again with the enigmatic smile. “You’re right that I know a decent amount of worldly matters, but what makes Gege think I would not be straightforward?” he asked curiously.
“Well,” Xie Lian said, thinking. “You smile a lot,” he answered.
The man raised his eyebrow. “Gege smiles too.”
“Yes, but that's different,” Xie Lian said, waving his free hand.
“How so?” the man asked, with genuine interest written on his face.
Nearing a long stretch of thick, tall grass, Xie Lian instinctively thought of Ruoye. It was quite clever! Usually it would loop itself around a tall nearby tree and hook its other end under and around Xie Lian's good-side arm. But with the presence of the mortal, the bandage stayed still. He debated the merits of simply trudging through with his cane, or trying to explain to the handsome mortal why he had a long sentient cloth stained with old blood.
“Would you like a hand?” the man asked.
But sometimes, the water would split into two, then four, then eight, until each little tributary was its own river, and one at one end was ten thousand lǐ apart from the other.
“I . . .” Xie Lian said. He hadn't touched a human’s hand in years.
Perhaps it was the way that the man kept a respectful distance as he waited for his response, or the way his arms were politely folded behind his back.
Maybe it was how he didn't mind Xie Lian's silence, how he brought his hands forward, twirling a flower in them and tucking it behind Xie Lian's ear. He took care not to graze Xie Lian's skin or touch his hair with his fingers.
Maybe it was that Xie Lian intuitively knew that the respectfulness wasn't just for show.
Whether the tributaries joined with the four seas, eventually, that was for time to tell, really.
“I'd like that,” Xie Lian said.
Xie Lian opened his mouth to say something more, but closed it when the man lifted his arm with a closed fist. He opened his mouth again. “You’ve done this before.”
“More or less,” the man answered, gently supporting his back with his other hand.
More than more or less, Xie Lian thought. It was even easier than walking with Ruoye! He took the opportunity to notice that the man's hand was elegant, with beauty to power, like lightning to storm.
While crossing, Xie Lian remembered to answer his earlier question. “Well, your smiles are a bit mysterious, don't you think?” Xie Lian said. “I guess I assumed that'd mean you did things in a more roundabout way.”
Keeping his eyes on the ground ahead, the man raised an eyebrow. “Really? I've always thought of myself as more of an open book, personally.”
Xie Lian hummed. “I see. What's your name, my friend?” Xie Lian asked.
The man smiled. That smile wasn't hard to work out. “You can call me San Lang.”