Chapter Text
The sky rose imposingly, an indigo blue, and the sun shone through the clouds—illuminating the darkest points of the mountains, where the sky met the horizon—on the day Hua Cheng had returned.
It was a day like any other in Xian Le—after the bloody war that defined the fate of the two kingdoms a year ago, the city managed to recover mostly well. The population no longer suffered from hunger; at least not the entire population, the rice fields were thronged with workers in the hot sun, and the streets were now a multitude of stalls, pedestrians, colors and lights.
Progress had finally arrived for Xian Le. That should have been the best year in the life of the king of Xian Le, Xie Lian, but in fact it had been the worst of his entire existence. No one knew why the prince—now king—spent hours sitting on the throne with a bored expression, now and then watching the orange or dark sky, as if waiting for something to come out of the clouds. There was hope in his eyes, while there was a characteristic emptiness of someone who had already given up.
The king of Xian Le wore long robes embroidered in white, red and gold threads, his long dark brown hair falling over his back like a black veil, an intricately outlined crown of gold and silver rested on his head. He was handsome, his pale skin and dark eyes giving him an expression of peace while being fatal. Everyone had seen him at war, after all.
But something was missing from him.
One last piece. A spark.
Nobody knew what it could be.
The first time he'd been offered a wife—and the matter of conceiving a heir had been addressed—Xie Lian roared in anger. The entire kingdom knew. They feared, then, that they had fallen into the hands of a vile and cruel tyrant. But Xie Lian would never be like that. He was kind, generous, and extremely patient.
His only problem was having only half of his heart.
In the evenings, when there were no advisers, scribes, historians, or any other prying eyes who could judge him, he would take a wooden box from his quarters. He had hidden it on a false floor, impossible to find. And every night, in the light of the moonlight that crept into the room, dimly and slowly, he would take a silver cord and put it around his neck. Sometimes he whispered, as if he were talking to someone. Sometimes he just slept, the object curled tightly between his fingers.
But he never wore it during the day.
He preferred to avoid the questions.
Until a certain day.
Today was the day known as The Fall of Banyue. It was August 6th.
It had been exactly a year since the kingdom of Banyue had been defeated in the war against Xian Le with the help of what everyone called the Black Knight, or Lord of Stars, Lord of Shadow... but Xie Lian knew him only as Hua Cheng.
The Hua Cheng who hugged him at bedtime. Who smelled of strawberry and wood. Who whispered in his ear and called him profane, adoring names whenever they made love.
His Hua Cheng, who had sacrificed himself in a war that wasn't even his own, because Xie Lian was his people.
His nation.
And he said he would never leave him. That he was going to come back. That Xie Lian should wait.
A year had passed. Twelve “days six”. Their days. And so far… nothing. Only emptiness and darkness dwelt in Xie Lian, and he didn't know what to do with such sadness. A deep sadness that held his heart in its hands, that wrenched the air from his body, that begged him to lie down and cry and never get up again; it was a sadness that seemed to soften his own bones.
And he hated it.
But today, it's already been a year, and he was at LuPei Bridge again. He had only brought one coachman here, in the dead of night while everyone else slept. He had managed to escape between the guards and the advisers. For one night, I was free. He could do what he wanted. And Xie Lian knew what he wanted to do.
He felt the cold wind on his face, ruffling his robes and hair. The stone bridge was hard and icy under his bare feet, the lake gleaming like a pool of silver in the moonlight that shone down on it. The cherry tree swayed in the wind, tossing its leaves in blurs of pink and red—the sky was dark as only midnight could make it.
It's so beautiful, Xie Lian thought. I remember when he made me run through the wet grass, and then we jumped into the lake. Our first night of love was here. He gave this to me, then raised his hand to look at the red thread tied to the finger of his left hand, the same one used in the south for weddings. The connecting wire between him and Hua Cheng.
The problem was that there was no longer a connection. He hadn't shown up in a month. And every month, Xie Lian has been here on the bridge, waiting. He'd stared at the horizon, cold or rain, ignoring the coachman's worried comments for eleven months.
And he would do it one last time.
He held the necklace tightly in his hand, ignoring the trembling fingers and the wind that ruffled his bones, and prayed. He knew that there were gods—Hua Cheng had told him—that there were greater beings who operated beyond their plan. Why didn't they help? Why weren't they giving him a clue? He who had so much hope. He, who had so much sadness, but still smiled every day to his subjects, only to spend the nights in a darkness conjured by himself.
He had no friends. Not really.
He didn't have anyone.
The only person he'd ever had had gone off in hundreds of silver butterflies in the rising sun of a destroyed battlefield. Xie Lian wondered if part of him had gone through those glowing particles that day. But he already knew the answer.
Yes. Of course yes.
Xie Lian closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, smelling the scent of grass, oak, and earth invading his lungs to the point where he couldn't take it anymore. The darkness his closed eyes brought was pleasant—familiar—and for the first time, not looking, was less painful than suffering all over again when you opened your eyes and found the dark blue sky permeated by clouds, the slice of silver moon, the glittering lake and the cherry tree.
That was all there would be when he opened his eyes. Just that.
“Please,” Xie Lian whispered, his voice weak and his throat dry. He closed his eyes tightly, clutching the string, his last gift from Hua Cheng. “Please show up this time. I-I beg you. I-I need to know I'm not crazy. Did you really exist? Didn't I make you up? W-where are you?”
And then, it was as if bells rang in his ears, making him dizzy. He felt his legs go weak, and a shiver ran through his bones as he felt it first than he saw it.
Strawberry and wood.
Xie Lian opened his eyes, desperate, feeling the tears running down his eyes as the white spots in his vision got used to the landscape he knew so much. It had everything he had anticipated. But this time, there was someone he hadn't seen in a long time.
An unique element.
The sky was filled with golden lanterns, as if stars had fallen and were hanging among the clouds. The lanterns floated in the air, swaying in trails of orange and white—
And in the midst of all that, a man descended through the heavens, touching the lanterns as if he were making his way among the stars. His long red robe, with silver jewelry that sparkled at the slightest sound—the sound of bells he'd heard—waving in the wind, mingling with the magically lit night. His long black hair was a trail of starless darkness, and his face, pale, lined and with those red eyes so bright…
Xie Lian felt his legs weaken, but before he could fall on them, he felt someone holding him.
Pulling him up.
And then, his feet were off the bridge, touching nothingness as a force pulled him up, up… and the scent of strawberry and wood invaded his interior. He held the string tightly in his hand, to the point where he felt the object pierce his flesh.
But a hand touched his, loosening the grip, and said, close to his ear, “Don't get hurt, gege. How could I live if you got hurt because of me?”
And then he picked Xie Lian properly in his lap, turning him so they were face to face. And it was him. The thick, husky voice, kind of deep. The open smile that made his eyes crinkle at the edges. Hua Cheng's face reminded Xie Lian of love. He was love.
“You…” Xie Lian stammered, unable to find the words inside him. “Y-you…”
And then he felt the tears running down his face, the invisible wound in his chest more open. The sadness he felt was less heavy, but more painful. The knowledge that, until that moment, he really had been alone. That alone hurt more than anything. It hurt to the bottom of his soul.
And then, amidst the lantern-filled sky, Hua Cheng cuddled Xie Lian very close to him, and gently kissed his cheek. Again. And then again.
“Don't cry, gege. Please. Don't cry.”
“How could I not cry? Y-you were gone for a year. One year!”
“It was very difficult to get back,” Hua Cheng muttered, looking Xie Lian in the eye. They were red as twilight. His touch was warm and comfortable. It was peace. It was home. “I shattered myself into so many pieces. It was difficult to... come back together. I didn't want to go back to you until I was… myself.”
“And you were going to let me suffer? Would you leave me alone?”
Hua Cheng smiled, but a tear fell down his face in a perfect arc from his eyes to his cheek. He touched his forehead to Xie Lian's, who was crying and pulling in his breath in small gasps. He felt his body lighter. Exhausted. He had spent a year holding out. A year waiting.
Now all he wanted was to be in Hua Cheng's arms forever.
“You were never alone, gege. I gave you the red thread. I gave you the link on your finger. Look,” Hua Cheng held up his hand, showing that his red one was still in his. He smiled. “See? It's eternal. It will never go away. Never. Never, ever.”
Xie Lian sniffled, looking down at his hands. It was almost hard to remember that they were flying through the air, golden and white lanterns all around them. He didn't care. He just wanted to be here.
“Do you forgive me?,” Hua Cheng whispered, fear visible in his voice. He hugged Xie Lian closer to him. “Can you forgive me for being gone for so long? I-I swear that I tried. I swear. I promise. I said I'd come back, and I came back, but I did not realize it would take so much, and if it is too late, I'm sorry for presuming—”
But Xie Lian was already kissing him, holding his face in his hands as his fingers sank into Hua Cheng's hair. Their lips touched, and then they gave way to each other, their tongues touching, the sigh of relief, the growl of desire… They kissed for long minutes, squeezing, gasping, tasting each other's after so long. And when they parted, Xie Lian said, watching Hua Cheng panting and red-cheeked,
“Would this answer your question?”
Hua Cheng smiled, nuzzling Xie Lian's cheek.
“I have no doubts. But… what's gonna happen now, gege? What do we do? You are a king now. I… I don't know what we can do—”
“Don't think about it right now,” Xie Lian muttered. His whole body felt lighter. His heart less painful. He felt at peace. He caressed Hua Cheng's face with his hands. Felt the texture of the skin. The softness. He smelled him. It was with him that he wanted to spend his entire life. “Just stay with me.”
“And then you tell me everything I missed?”
“Are you still insufferable like that?”
“No man hit on you, eh? Or woman.”
“Of course they did, San Lang. I am the king. And I'm beautiful.”
“I'll kill them all until they perish to eternal darkness—”
Xie Lian's laugh filled the entire space around them, lighting up the deepest darkness. The coachman had watched all this with his eyes wide open to a point, until he had passed out. Perhaps Hua Cheng influenced his memories a little. Maybe not.
It was hard to tell with the Lord of Night around. Even more on a night like that.
But one thing was certain: they had spent so much time apart, in opposite directions of the same universe, running towards each other, turning into darkness, sadness, particles and unbreakable love... now, it had only taken a single moment for them to fall into each other's arms, laughing at the night, the moon, the stars.
And Xie Lian and Hua Cheng wouldn't trade it for anything. Loving the way they did was the most beautiful thing in the world.
THE END