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A tall silhouette, a tilted cottage, and three thousand blessing lanterns. Now that Xie Lian has had that image forever burned into his mind, a gilded palace or a starry night could never even come close. They all paled in comparison, suddenly, when confronted with such a perfect scene.
The wind whips his robes as he stands and takes it in, mind reeling with best-case scenarios. Xie Lian hardly dares to hope, and yet— his feet, they don’t know any better, and so they carry him, too fast, down the winding mountain path—
“You’re back! You’re back, I can’t believe—” There’s a whoosh as his head makes contact with Hua Cheng’s chest, and then he’s enveloped in so much red he can scarcely make out his own ecstatic rambling anymore, the syllables muffled by fine fabric and strong arms. Solid, real. “San Lang! Oh, I missed you, San Lang, you’re really—”
A moment later, his mindless happiness gives way to frantic concern. What if San Lang is hurt? He’s been through so much—what if he needs something? Xie Lian scrambles out of his embrace like he’s made of hot coals, prompting a confused noise from Hua Cheng. “Ah, I should’ve— San Lang, are you alright? All this time, you were… Were you okay? Is there anything I—”
At his flurry of questions, Hua Cheng slowly begins to smile again, drawing Xie Lian carefully back into the circle of his arms. A bit guiltily, and with reddening eyes, Xie Lian lets himself be held once more.
“This one is fine, gege. I wasn’t in any pain or danger,” Hua Cheng assures him, kissing the top of his head. With complete sincerity, he adds, “Though I thank gege for his care.”
Xie Lian has to laugh so he won’t cry. “Ah ha, what, please. Of course I care, don’t be like this,” he scolds him lightly, sniffling. He feels a bit wild, frenetic; his hands are shaking slightly, where they’ve taken to clutching at Hua Cheng’s clothes. He can’t find it in himself to let go.
“I missed gege, too,” Hua Cheng says; a delayed response. He hums thoughtfully, lips pressed to Xie Lian’s hairline. “I’ve never had anyone to miss me before. This San Lang is indeed very lucky.”
“Ah. Welcome home,” Xie Lian tells him, crying in earnest now. Oh, well. No one could possibly fault him for breaking at that.
***
“Gege made such a wonderful home,” Hua Cheng gushes, stood beneath the bare branches of the cherry blossom tree that Xie Lian had planted out front. Though its time for flowers had come and gone, he more than makes up for the lack of color at this time of year, Xie Lian thinks wistfully—which is pretty sappy, even for him. He feels a little fragile still, if he’s honest.
“Thank you,” Xie Lian says, sincere. “I also fixed up the mountain paths— you probably saw that, though.” He sounds like he’s fishing for more praise—but really, he’s just been so excited to show him around. He fluctuates between mild nerves and flushed pride as he trails Hua Cheng from one edge of the property to another, relishing his reactions in real time—his quiet joy at discovering all the minute details of Xie Lian’s handiwork.
“Mn, the paths were very clear and well lit,” Hua Cheng says affably, inspecting the wood grain on the front door like it’s a piece of fine art. “Thanks to gege’s hard work, I found my way home easily.”
Xie Lian perks up. “Did you really? I— I was hoping you would. I’m glad.” Heavens, he needs to get it together. He clasps his hands behind his back and stands straighter, mimicking Hua Cheng’s distinctive posture like it might somehow make him feel more composed. “This cottage should be quite sturdy, I think. This is the second attempt, actually; the first one wasn’t very good. It’s not much, and my carpentry skills aren’t as refined as yours… But I thought, if San Lang wanted—”
“Yes, I want,” Hua Cheng interjects, surprising him. He crowds Xie Lian against the front door, expression heated, though his hands on his face and waist are gentle. “That His Highness would spend his precious time on such things—truly, I’m honored. It’s an honor to be considered like this.”
Xie Lian’s mind struggles to accept that they’ve ever been this close before; it feels like the first time all over again. Surely their noses have never brushed like this? Surely he’s never seen Hua Cheng’s dark eyelashes in such detail. “San Lang deserves far more than this,” Xie Lian replies, face warm. “But you already have your Paradise Manor, and Mt. Taicang is… special. It has history.”
“Yes,” Hua Cheng agrees, “and it has you. How could I want for anything more?”
Xie Lian inhales sharply, though the sentiment rings true for him as well. He’s lived in palaces before, and as a prince he’d never wanted for gold, or food, or entertainment—but his life has never felt more abundant, more full, than it does now.
“Gege, I want to kiss you,” Hua Cheng confesses, stroking his cheek. “Can I?”
Xie Lian’s hand finds Hua Cheng’s elbow and squeezes, affectionate. “San Lang need not ask.” He gives the answer without a thought, because it feels obvious, but it seems to do something to Hua Cheng, rile him up. Xie Lian is reeled in swiftly, and pressed flat against the door, and kissed with the kind of fervor he’d expect from—oh. A lover, he supposes. Right; naturally. Because they’re— he and Hua Cheng—
He feels woozy when Hua Cheng finally lets him go, like finest wine gone to his head, but left to turn sour in his belly. Something to inspect later, Xie Lian thinks, with a little sigh he feels in his heart. He’s never been great with intimacy—had rewired himself very young, to make it so—but he’s not so willing to accept that fact now as he was for the last eight centuries. Some day, he’ll learn to tether his shame, and give it a short lead. It would take hard work and practice, much like cultivation itself.
Buoyed by the thought, he tugs Hua Cheng back down for another brief but open-mouthed kiss, in plain defiance of his own crossed wires. He feels his mood lighten considerably at the dazed look Hua Cheng gives him in return, his slack mouth giving way to a bewildered grin. Xie Lian pats his cheek cheerfully, eyes crinkling.
***
Xie Lian has possibly never felt so safe as he feels that night, lying in bed with Hua Cheng. He thought he’d sleep much sounder this past year—content, supposedly, in the knowledge that not only were his cursed shackles gone, but the object of his long-held nightmares had also been permanently sealed beneath a mountain. But in fact, any bright comfort Xie Lian might have gleaned from those events had been swiftly eclipsed by the dark aftermath: the total, light-stealing horror of watching his favorite person fade away to nothing before his eyes—made all the more tragic, somehow, by him never having learned the true extent of Xie Lian’s feelings for him. Even now, with the worst behind them, Xie Lian finds it difficult to articulate himself properly.
But the emotions of the evening have worn him out quite thoroughly, so for now, Xie Lian would allow that to be his excuse. He feels his eyes growing heavier even as he and Hua Cheng fall into another spell of kissing, rebounding from sweet to sloppy to back again in waves, and before long he feels himself sinking into sleep. He jolts back awake a moment later, though, to a shit-eating grin from Hua Cheng, who asks him point-blank, “Am I boring you, gege?”
Xie Lian blinks rapidly. “Wh— no!” he exclaims, though he’s well aware he’s being teased, and falling right into Hua Cheng’s trap. Even the sting of embarrassment feels sweet, in a way; but if Hua Cheng knew that, he’d never leave him be, so Xie Lian shoves him firmly in the shoulder, glowering weakly.
Evidently chastened, Hua Cheng smothers his grin, and rolls smoothly off of him. “Alright, alright. This one will behave.” He pulls up the blanket, tucks it carefully over Xie Lian. “Gege should rest.”
“San Lang should rest,” he mumbles contrarily, and then punctuates that with a hearty yawn.
Hua Cheng huffs out a laugh, sounding inexplicably charmed. “Ah… this San Lang has done enough resting lately, though. I find gege’s kissing to be much more restorative,” he confides in a whisper.
Xie Lian covers his face with both hands. “San Lang,” he laments, with all the intention to scold him, before he dissolves into a bout of helpless giggles, the kind that only a bone-deep tiredness could bring about. Before he knows it, Hua Cheng is laughing, too, clearly just as exhausted and giddy despite his earlier claims. “Enough, enough! Go to sleep.”
Hua Cheng tugs genially on their red string in an apparent ruse to find Xie Lian’s hand in the dark. He could see perfectly well at night, Xie Lian knows—but it’s a nice reminder anyway, of how close they are again. That tomorrow, if Xie Lian were to pull on it, he might simply find Hua Cheng down by the stream, or in the stable with the ox, rather than someplace where Xie Lian can’t follow.
The sensation of safety returns—so foreign, and so wonderful, it makes him strangely misty-eyed. He blinks the tears away in the dark.
“Sweet dreams, gege,” Hua Cheng murmurs, pressing a kiss to the knuckle that tied him to his fate.