Chapter Text
-/-
Jiang Cheng is nine when he first feels the twinge.
It happens right after his taekwondo practice, beads of sweat clinging to the cowlick strays near his temple as he bends down to grab his water bottle from his duffle bag. It's right at that very moment that feels it, a painful throb in his chest accompanied by an involuntary hiss between his teeth at the sharp pull. The youngster snatches his water bottle and stands up right, bringing the nozzle to his mouth, frowning as he drinks steadily while rubbing a hand on his sternum. The counter measure makes the residual pain subside until it's gone. Weird.
H e doesn't ponder on it long when his good friend Song Lan bumps his arm in jest. "Next practice I'll beat you by two rounds." Xiao Xingchen smiles from beside the other boy, not a hair out of place unlike Jiang Cheng's disheveled appearance. The younger boy is attached to Song Lan at the hip, and where one goes the other will surely follow.
Jiang Cheng smirks. "I'll win by three." And his minor pain is long forgotten.
His father picks him up from practices and drives home, inquiring how school was, listening attentively to his youngest as he prattles on about mundane things that kids find noteworthy, accompanied by hums and 'aahs' at all the right parts.
When they arrive at the grand mansion, they are greeted by the delicious aroma of his older sister's cooking and the barking of three dogs, that come racing into the foyer. Jiang Cheng drops his bags and bends down to hug them, laughing aloud as they lick and try to jump all over him while his father watches on amused. Jasmine, Princess, and Love were presents for Christmas last year after Jiang Cheng had begged for a puppy during the summer prior.
His mother must hear their entrance and exits her office, beautiful in her elegant stature and dressed immaculately. She chides at her youngest's appearance without any true harshness, gesturing him to hurry and shower before dinner is ready. Not wanting to disappoint A-niang, he books it to his room,, the pups scrambling on the marble floor after him. A quick scrub under a nice hot shower later, Jiang Cheng dresses and combs through his long hair, wincing at the knots the brush gets caught on. Huffing in exasperation, he gives up when he's at least somewhat presentable and races back downstairs to eat.
A-Li serves their parents then him, making sure he gets a large portion of pork in his bowl; she always saves the best piece for him and it makes him feel special. His mother inquires about his day and gives a pride-filled nod when he says he did well on his history test. His father comments that he was impressed with Jiang Cheng in his last few minutes of practice he was able to catch, and A-Li promises to cheer loudly for his upcoming match. All the attention makes him beam, bowing his head to hide his blush. Family dinners always leave his stomach and heart full.
At night, after his parents have tucked him in and wished him goodnight, Jasmine jumps onto the bed and buries her head in his shirt, setting off a slew of giggles from him. She sniffs at his chest with determined fever as if there was buried treasure in there. Beaming, he pretends there's hidden gems stuck between his ribs, diamonds just waiting to be discovered. Love and Princess soon jump onto the bed, joining in the hunt that has him howling with laughter, he's lucky his parents bedroom is downstairs so he won't get in trouble for the noise.
It takes a few minutes to calm them down, and by then Jiang Cheng is slumped back into his pillow, exhausted and cheeks aching. He rubs their heads while they paw at the bed until they each find a spot around his small form and snuggle close.
Letting himself drift off to sleep, Jiang Cheng doesn't even realize he forgot to mention the pain he felt earlier.
-/-
It seems to keep happening.
The new throb rarely occurs and when it does, it's brief enough Jiang Cheng doesn't really worry. At night his beloved animals sniff and rub there heads against his chest, but can't seem to reach what they're looking for. He considers mentioning it to his parents or even A-Li, but in the end he loses his chance. Because a few weeks later, the warm atmosphere of the traditional family dinners is shattered when his father brings home a boy.
Jiang Cheng was already upset that evening when his dad was late to pick him up from Taekwondo practice, so much so that Xiao Xingchen's grandfather had to give him a ride home instead.
Entering in the foyer, no dogs race across the marble floor to greet him. His mother is stuck in her office and he can hear her raised voice speaking to someone on the phone, clearly upset if he goes by the venom in her voice. He's never heard such a tone from his mǔqīn, not even when she's acting out a bed time story and trying to portray a scary dragon. His sister is in the kitchen but she's frantic and nervous, offering him a quick smile and shooing him upstairs to shower and change. His father is suspiciously absent, for the moment.
Once freshened up, he returns downstairs to find his father's in the parlor with an arm wrapped around a skinny boy's shoulders, who is anxiously glued to the Jiang Patriarch's side. All heads turn at his arrival, mother's expression closed off and his sister's smile is strained. His father however is in a jubilant mood, gesturing him closer. "Ah Jiang Cheng, come meet our newest family member. His name is Wei Wuxian and starting tonight, he will be your brother."
Shocked by such an announcement, he stalls for just a moment, but goes and greets this boy....his new brother.
Dinner is awkward, unlike previous ones where they ask about each other's days and indulge in stories over warm food. Princess, Love, and Jasmine have been sequestered in the laundry room, and the dogs occasionally give a pitiful whine and scratch at the closed door which can be heard even in the dining room, prompting the new boy to occasionally flinch. Everyone promptly ignores the noise, and Jiang Cheng has to pretend he doesn't care.
His father asks question after question to newest addition to the Jiang family, seemingly oblivious of the tense atmosphere. The boy eats like he hasn't had a meal in years, but anytime he doesn't have his cheeks stuffed with food, he only offers one word answers, posture wary in this unfamiliar place. If anything, Jiang Cheng feels bad for him, especially with the not so subtly glares his Muqin is directing at the boy. A-Li just maintains a pleasant demeanor throughout the meal, more often than not refilling the boy's plate when it's at least near empty.
Suddenly and unexpectedly Jiang Cheng feels that sharp throb again, like a thorn of a rosh bush from his mother's garden he had once pricked his finger when he had not been careful. He grimaces and accidentally makes eye contact with the boy, who had been apparently staring at him. He ducks his head when he spots Jiang Cheng's unpleasant expression. Great, now the boy probably thinks he hates him.
Tummy unsettled by both the pain and this evening's strange events, Jiang Cheng peers towards his mother. "Muquin, I'm not feeling good, can I go lay down?"
His mother's tight expression goes starkly relieved. "I'll come tuck you in," she proposes, already rising from her chair faster than anyone can dare object. Jiang Cheng shimmies out of his chair too, almost missing the flicker of dismay and frustration that flashes across his father's face when they proceed to leave the table. To try and make up for the bad first impression, Jiang Cheng nonchalantly pushes his dinner roll on the bread plate towards the boy, a peace offering of sorts.
Upstairs, A-niang adjusts the covers around him, eyes occasionally flickering out towards the hallway. There's many emotions that play on her beautiful face, but one he dares not voice is the hurt engraving itself in deep. Once she smooths the blanket across his lap, she glance towards him. "Need anything?"
By now the pain has faded and so after a moment of consideration, he shakes his head. "No. I think I'll be ok."
She snorts, almost as if she found it funny, but leans over and kisses his forehead before Jiang Cheng can asks what's got her laughing. "Sleep well A-Cheng."
She rises from the bed and walk towards the door, flipping the light switch off and pulling the door nearly shut after her as she leaves. But Jiang Cheng watches her pause, through the crack of the door as she takes a deep breath, her shoulders rising at the action. Once having steeled herself, she disappears downstairs.
-/-
After a week passes of tense dinners and new routines, Jiang Fengmian decides to get rid of Jasmine, Princess, and Love.
His father says they have to do this, that Wei Wuxian is scared and this is the only way to make the boy, his brother feel at home. He imparts that Jiang Cheng should understand, regardless of how the younger boy feels. And no pitying expression gracing his jie-jie's face or underlying anger from his muquin will change his father's mind.
His parents don't come in together to bid him goodnight anymore. A-niang still tucks him him with her lips pulled in a tight line, but never forgets to give his cheek a kiss. His father also comes later, leaning in the doorway to toss a quick impersonal goodnight, despite the fact he could heard him telling Wei Wuxian a lavish bed time story down the hall. Another painful twinge pulses in his sternum. It's getting more and more bothersome the more frequently it happens.
There are no longer any pups to hunt for buried treasure in his chest at night, and his clumsy fingers can't reach the thing stuck between his ribs no matter how much he tries. But his father must believe his decision was well worth his weight in gold when Wei Wuxian eye's no longer sparkle with skittish tears.
Strange that somehow those tears find themselves on Jiang Cheng's pillow instead.
-/-
Now that the pups' are no longer there, Wei Wuxian comes out of his shell. And he's a whirlwind of contradictions.
Brave yet timid. Wicked smart yet utterly lazy. Wild yet contemplative. Mischievous yet deadly serious given the right topic. Thin as a stick yet excels in most if not all sports. Though he's a year older, he got held back and ended up in the same grade as Jiang Cheng, and thus is now in all of his classes. His friends think his brother is the coolest thing ever. In fact most of his class is taken by the wild boy, who attracts a following of gazes brimming with wondrous awe or heated jealousy. The fan club only grows bigger after he places second in a taekwondo spar, a few points shy of Jiang Cheng, though no one seems to remember that.
"With him on the taekwondo team, we'll be a shoe in for the finals," Song Lan mentions, sounding as eager as an unemotional rock like him, can. Xiao Xingchen of course absolutely agrees with his best friend, openly admiring the perfect form Wei Wuxian practices with his sword.
There's a prickling across his chest and Jiang Cheng crosses his arms, frowning as he tries to ease the discomfort away.
For all the attention and popularity he clamors, Wei Wuxian seems to have taken a shine to Jiang Cheng; maybe his small peace offering that first night helped more than he knew. The boy also infuriatingly loves being an older brother, taking his duty way too seriously. He never strays too far from the younger's side, throwing a casual arm around his shoulders, teasing the younger boy to call him gege.
"Yah, why would I call you that?" he asks annoyed, though he doesn't brush off the arm his brother. It's...well...kind of...nice to be have someone looking out for him. But like hell will he say it out loud. No way!
"Because I'm your older brother and I'd do anything for my didi," he whines. "What's it cost to call me gege? Come on, sound it out with me, ge-ge."
Jiang Cheng scoffs, crossing his arms. "No way. If anything I'll call you.....A-Xian!"
If he thought the nickname would push the other away, he is surely mistaken with the way the older boy's face lights up. "Aww of course, you can. My precious didi!," he squeezes Jiang Cheng's cheeks together, the younger boy pushing him away.
"Yah! Stop!" When his brother attempts to squeeze his face again, Jiang Cheng has to make a break for it, the boy chasing after him in the hallway. "Didi come back! A-Xian wants to give you some love!"
In class, taking a seat as far as he can get from his brother, his seat mate Nie Huaisang leans over to whisper, "How did get so lucky to have such a nice older brother? Da-ge just likes to push me around and complain when I say I hate sports," the younger boy whines, snapping his fan open with a flourish to hide his pout.
Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes and wonders why being so 'lucky' felt the opposite sometimes.
-/-
Jiang Cheng is ten when he feels a tickle at the back of his throat.
The pain these days is annoying still there, almost as frequently poking him as his brother when he wants to lure him into some prank or another. But he sucks it up like a big boy.
It's during dinner one evening, the five of them situated around the dining room table, eating together like the stock photo family in portrait frames they are supposed to be. The tickle in his throat happens right after Jiang Yanli finishes serving the family their portion of Lotus Pork Soup. He can tell Wei Wuxian's piece is the biggest as it has been since he came here, but Jiang Cheng just twists his mouth and doesn't say anything.
A-niang's face remains stern, lips thin while she delicately lifts her spoon to them while his father chews thoroughly on his portion of meat. While his muquin isn't outright hostile, her posture says enough to not engage with her during dinner time.
His fuqin will occasionally ask his brother about his day and how he's adjusting to school and extra curricular activities, particularly interested when the boys spins tails his adventurous exploits in sports, all the while nodding at the right places. His father doesn't put the same effort into asking about Jiang Cheng's day, when he remembers to at all. But even when he does, the nods and hums are off, delayed or missing all together.
The brief, sharp pain feels like it's reached a bit deeper, spilling outward.
A-Xian has just finished sharing about how he aced the math exam without needing to even study that hard, one that Jiang Cheng did study hard for and got an A-, when he has to pinch his lips shut, swallowing to try and stop the tickle. But it persists and persists until finally he can't suppress his initial reaction to the sensation. So he leans over to the side, under the table and coughs into his fist really quick.
The sound is loud since dinner had mostly been partaken in quiet when not filled with his brother's jubilance. Sitting back upright in his seat, he sees his mother's nose wrinkle, but otherwise she doesn't comment. Thinking he's in the clear, he lifts a spoonful of broth only to have to stop and set it down, coughing into his cupped hands. At this A-niang's irritation increases as she too sets down her utensil with a sharp clank upon the fine china dish, reaching over to grasp her wine glass and sip from the plum colored drink.
Jiang Chen frowns down at himself, upset at this bothersome sensation. Though he's secretly comforted when Wei Wuxian leans over to rub at his back soothingly, and he spares his older brother a quick smile. The tickle however refuses to disappear and he can't help the third time he coughs, much louder than other two that has A-niang setting her wine glass down with a thud upon the linen table cloth.
"Jiang Cheng, why are you coughing?" she asks sternly, his siblings' and father' worried attention on him solely for once.
He clears his throat, shaking his head. "I don't know, the back of my throat it tickles," he cups his adam's apple, rubbing the skin there. "I...I might be getting sick," he admits hesitatingly. His sister makes a pitying sound, already about to serve him more soup to comfort him.
A-niang's reaction is an entirely different story.
Unlike the care his muquin usually displays when he complains of feeling ill, the admission appears to incense her further. "Why would you be getting sick, huh?" She asks with a sharp brow, before motioning towards wide-eyed Wei Wuxian. "He was an orphan in poor health and underweight yet has surpassed you in a physical examination last week. Surely, as a child born of wealth and good genes should rank above him."
As of late, it seems all his mother does is compare him to his brother. Her full focus on him usually is just to throw complaints that make his chest tight. Between the attention of his father that measures so little and his mother's overbearing kind, he can't tell which is the better of the worse.
"Dear," his father tries to ease her temper, but it sets her off and she's arguing about the situation they don't talk about, the one that eventually has his father walking away from the table to retreat into his study and his mother stomping after him in a berating tone.
With both parents gone, dinner is finished in a subdued quiet. Even when Jiang Cheng can't help but cough again, Wei Wuxian keeps his head down and doesn't reach back over to rub his back.
-/-
After that, any time Jiang Cheng mentions he's feeling under the weather or a little sick, his mother grows angry and his father grows quiet. They usually both end up withdrawing from the room, usually one or the other giving their sentiments.
"You're not sick," A-niang will insist, storming off.
"I'm sure you'll manage. Would want to disappoint now, would we?," A-die he advises gently, that is anything but.
Jie-Jie will sometimes offer him some medicine or a nice back rub while he lies in bed. Her soothing touch helps him forget any icky feelings he's not supposed to have.
Given his gege's inherent need to baby him, Jiang Cheng indulges A-Xian by letting him cuddling him and even rocking him to sleep, which aggravatingly helps. His older brother learns however it's best to coddle the younger when they're not in front of their parents.
-/-
When Jiang Cheng finds himself out of breath, during track practice, his lungs screaming like they're on fire, he takes a self-regulated timeout on the benches mid warm-up.
His coach frowns, jogging over from the side-line and bending down to eye-level. "Hey you alright kid?"
Jiang Cheng is breathing like he ran two miles, which he technically almost did, shy two laps, but logistics. "Yeah coach. I just..." he takes another deep breath. "-can't catch my breath."
The coach looks perplexed at this, probably concerned since Jiang Cheng has always been one of the top track runners and can handle two miles easily. The coach looks out in the distance, watching as Wei Wuxian overtake the rest to finish in record time, with still enough energy to do kart wheels that have the others team members laughing as they collapse onto the asphalt.
"Ah," the coach nods his head, as if coming to a realization Jiang Cheng is not privy to. The man give him a smile that looks more pitying than anything and hands him a bottle of cold water. "Here, drink some of this. It might help."
Jiang Cheng takes it gratefully, greedily sipping his water, until the fire is put out. He takes a deep breath, thankfully feeling a bit better, the ache in his ribs slowly residing.
"Better?," Jiang Cheng nods and stands up from the bench, earning a pat on the back. "That's the spirit kid. Now hurry and finish the last laps. We got some drills to go through."
-/-
A few more track practices that result in the same sharp, breathless pain has him reconsidering the sport he's loved so dearly
It shouldn't hurt when he runs, tired before he rounds the third lap. It definitely shouldn't hurt when his brother stands atop of the 1st place podium, beaming with a gold medal around his neck, standing high above the sea of people cheering in the stands. And it shouldn't need to hurt to have to look up to him from his second place stand, his presence shrinking next to him, the silver around his neck heavy and dull looking in the light.
It shouldn't have to hurt to decide to give up something that hurts him.
After a terrible practice one evening, he announces to his family he's gonna quit track, using the excuse it's not challenging enough for him. Feigning disinterest is easier than allowing tears of frustration to pour out of him. He also says he plans to replace one with two, trading his track shoes for cleats and a basketball gear. Thankfully it's enough to have an approving nod from his A-niang, even if his A-die barely bats an eye.
And at the first practice of each, he finds his chest doesn't ache as quickly as it did before. And even when it does, he can ignore for longer.
But of course, the fresh start is cut short and the hurt returns as fiercely as if he hadn't stopped running, all because his brother decides to quit track and join the two teams as well.
Maybe it's supposed to hurt as Wei Wuxian steals the sunlight twice over, unable to let Jiang Cheng blossom for just this once.
-/-
Jiang Cheng is eleven when he stumbles upon a seed.
While all the kids are outside, running around the playground and playing tag, or some like Wei Wuxian show off how many rules he can manage to break, Jiang Cheng is in the library. He prefers the quiet, being able to sit in the air conditioning while sparing his lungs from aggravation. And not to be blunt, but he doesn't necessarily care to read. However he'd take dusty paperbacks over dealing with the flocking girls AND boys who trail after his brother.
He's skimming through the comic book section when he sees a colorful hardback book showcased on the shelf housing manga collections. It's a girl, hanging upside down, a flower stem flowing out of her mouth, atop of a background like a quilt made of mix-matched floral fabrics sewn together. He finds he likes it enough to pluck it off the shelf, curiosity getting the better of him.
"Hana-haki O-to-me" he sounds out the letters slowly, the name not flowing as smoothly on the tongue. Well duh it's in Japanese, which he sadly doesn't understand.
But turning over the front cover, he hits jackpot because there's a translated title: 'The Girl Who Spit Flowers'.
A little seed takes root in corse, moist soil that lines his soul.
He takes a seat on the floor, leaning back against the book shelf, and starts to read. And read. And read so long the bell rings to signal recess is over and he has to hurry and check out the book if he doesn't want to lose his page. He makes sure to stuff the book at the bottom of his backpack before his classmates coming traipsing in from outside and a sweaty Wei Wuxian tackles him with a battle cry.
All day he pretends like his backpack is holding a hidden treasure, because it feels like he's carrying around a secret no one knows. Not even his older brother, who knows everything. He has to duck his head during the lesson multiple times to hide his smile but a noisy someone always notices.
"Psss, what's got you so happy?" Nie Huaisang whispers.
Jiang glowers. "Nothing." Thankfully the teachers calls for the class' attention, and he's avoids spilling the beans to the younger.
At bedtime, hiding beneath his covers with a flashlight, Jiang Cheng devours the rest of the book hungrily. It's about a girl who falls in love with someone, only they don't love her back. So flowers start to grow in her lungs and heart. She coughs up flower petals the longer she's sick. And though she's in pain, the only way to remove it is by having surgery which will also rid her of all the memories and feelings she has for that person. She has a tough time deciding what to do because she cares for this person deeply and doesn't want to forget the good memories. In the end she decides to let the flowers grow until they choke her, but then the author must be a bit of a sap for happy endings, because luckily the guy confesses and saves her.
Shutting the cover with a soft slap, Jiang Cheng turns off his flash light and hugs the book close to his chest. The story is sad for sure, but deep down he feels like he just unearthed some hidden knowledge, a secret of the universe within the floral covers. He thinks of dogs digging in the dirt to unearth green sprouts, of leaves and twigs poking their way up through tough soil to hungrily search for sunlight, of flowers blooming within the smallest of confined spaces.
The seed he's found is planted deep, and he thinks with a little water and care, it'll grow before he even knows it.
-/-
If A-Niang and A-Die are right, that he's not in fact sick, then after gaining his new found knowledge Jiang Cheng is sure that he must be growing something else instead; something loud and eye-catching he cannot ignore, like the bright blue cornflowers sprouting along the outskirts of the kickball field, weaving into the chained linked fence. They practically look neon in this unforgiving heat.
They must be what's twisting in his chest, coiling in his throat as he coughs, guttural and breathless into the crook of his arm. At this rate, he's not feeling up to playing with the sun blaring down on him, nape of his neck warming and sweat building at his temple. As his turn comes up to kick, he bows out, calling for a water break.
His brother is on the pitcher mound, posture sagging as his brother backs out. "A-Cheng, come on!," whines, sounding annoyed. Maybe A-Xian wanted an opportunity to trip up his younger sibling in front of the other kids.
Jiang Cheng runs into the dug out and plops down beside Nie Huaisang, the younger have feigning a twisted ankle to sit out, anything to get out of sports in general. While he rests his arms on his knees, chest heaving in and out, his absence is long forgotten as the next kid steps up to play, kicking a foul ball right off the bat that rattles against the fence before bouncing into the outfield. Xiao Xingchen dashes after it, dust kicking up under his feet, fast as a bullet.
Distracted by the game, he jumps when his best friend tisks, lightly slapping the end of his fan against his arm. "You know if you don't wanna play, all you have to do is say so. No one is gonna judge in this weather, even for superstar athletes."
Jiang Cheng frowns, a bit irked as he tries to catch his breath. "I wanna play, but I can't exactly help it when-"
The younger boy's sigh cuts him off, dramatically rolling his eyes. He unsheathes his fan, waving it at his face in attempt to capture a cool breeze. "Excuses, excuses."
-/-
During half-way through the school year, Jiang Cheng finds he's developed a bit of a wheeze, like somehow he swallowed a flower whole, unbeknownst as to when he could've done such a thing. It frankly sounds awfully annoying, similar to the high-pitched dainty sneeze A-Li's new boyfriend Jin Zixuan gives when he's even in the same vicinity as chamomile; an unfortunate discovery during tea time with said drink was made from the flower. Given the guy is a bit too uppity, it's easy to let Wei Wuxian rope him into ordering twelve bags of chamomile tea online, though if caught Jiang Cheng will feign innocence.
Anyway, back to his wheeze, it tends to make an appearance at the moments his chest aches most fiercely; nights when soccer, basketball, and even taekwondo have wrung out his lungs parched, left on the clothesline to dry. No matter how much he hydrates, watering the soil of his lungs constantly, his mouth remains as arid as the Gobi desert.
At that point, he thinks it's time to seek a little help.
Dr. Shu has been the private physician for the Jiang family for decades now. He's patient as he takes a listen to Jiang Cheng's chests, mouth twisting when he hears the troubling wheeze. Perhaps if the doctor listens long enough he can distinguish what type of flower is causing such an annoying ruckus so he can pluck it free; he suspects it might be sister's beloved mimosa pudica brushing against his lungs, the pink spindles billowing in each lungful breeze.
"Young master Jiang, do you have trouble occasionally breathing?"
Jiang Cheng nods, kicking his legs lazily atop of the examination table.
The older man looks at him over the rim of his spectacles. "How long?"
Jiang Cheng thinks, counting on his fingers. 9, 10, 11. But does it count if it hurt only sometimes? "A while," he decidedly answers after a minute, shrugging.
Dr. Shu hums, wheeling his chair over to his desk and opening a drawer. "Well, I think you might have asthma. It'd help a great deal if I prescribed an inhaler. You know what those are, right?"
He nods, he's seen them on TV before. It looks pretty simple to use.
The doctor awards him a smile." Good, nothing to be afraid of." He picks up the phone on his desk and begins dialing the number. "I just need to ring up your parents and get their permission."
He waits for a few moments, until someone on the other line picks up. "Hello Mr. Jiang, it's Dr. Shu. I'm here with your son and I was contacting to request your permission to write up a prescription." There's a pause, a question. "The youngest, Jiang Cheng." Another pause. "He's been having some difficulty- Oh. Alright I'll wait." There's another pause. "Good afternoon Madame Jiang. I was informing your husband that I just recently examined Jiang Cheng and discovered what could be the initial stages of asthma. I was about to write a prescription-"
The doctor trails off, blinks, listening to the other person on the line. "Well yes, he hasn't been officially diagnosed yet, but I feel it's certainly-" He's cut off again. "Right. Ok. Alright, sorry to take up your time Madam." The doctor hangs up, subdued. He stares at the phone receiver, before digging in his drawer and pulling out a pen and a pad. "I'm going to write a prescription Master Jiang, but will retrieve it myself," he answers, pen scratching against the paper.
Tilting his head high to take a peak, Jiang Cheng frowns. "That's not how you spell my name doc."
The older man lets out laugh, one that sounds awkward, forced. "Yes, um. Ugh...It'll be faster this way. Plus I can be the one to get them for you when they run out, which this should be good for a year. That way we won't worry your parents." He rips the paper off the pad, and folds it neatly into his shirt pocket, patting the area for good measure. He winks, "It'll be our little secret."
The next day with an inhaler in hand that has someone else's name on it, Jiang Cheng shrugs and accepts this is just the way things go.
-/-
The inhaler is a lifesaver, literally, and makes sports so much easier once again. One puff is a like a cool mist in a greenhouse, sprinkling dew upon the slumbering buds. He does keep it secret per Dr. Shu's request, stuffing it into a hidden inner pocket in his backpack during school. He only takes it out when he has to really needs it, usually in a locker room stall or under the bleachers.
But keeping a secret is easier said than done when you have an older brother who likes to snoop through his stuff.
"Whoa, what is this?"
Jiang Cheng turns from the sink where he's been washing him face, spotting his brother holding up the red inhaler, shaking it and spraying it wastefully in the air. He rushes at him, and is about grabs it when Wei Wuxian holds his arm up high, his one extra inch making it hard to reach.
"What is it?" his gege teases. "And who is 'Liu Bang'?"
"It's mine! Give it back!" he about is ready to tackle his brother and instead opts for tickling him under the arms, which immediately has him dropping his arms, giggling. Jiang Cheng snatches it and goes back to his unzipped backpack.
"Aww didi, I was just playing," A-Xian tickles his neck as Jiang Cheng flinches, veering away from the touch. "Come on, tell gege what it is? Come on, Come on. You know you want to."
Annoyed, Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes, but relents. "It's an inhaler," he mumbles.
His brother tilts his head. "Why do you have it?"
Figuring his secret can have one person in the know, he reveals, "Cause I have asthma."
Wei Wuxian gives him a look like he thinks Jiang Cheng is pulling his leg, which he is not thank you very much. Huffing, the younger turns and stuffs it back in his bag, deep into one of the inner pockets.
"Well, where did you get it?"
"The doctor."
Continuing his annoying game of 20 questions, his older brother asks, "But how come it has Liu Bang on it?"
"Cause," he answers vaguely, vexed by this dumb questions.
"Does Madam Yu and Uncle know?"
Jiang Cheng hesitates for just a second too long and it's a pause that his brother latches onto.
"Perhaps we should tell them," he sing-songs, inching towards the door.
""No!," he snatches his brother's shoulder, pulling him back into his room, closing the door for good measure. "A-Xian, you can't tell."
His brother narrows his eyes, before a wicked smirk takes over his face. "Fine. Me being the good gege, I won't tell. But what will my little brother give me to keep his a secret?"
Jiang Cheng sighs, should've known getting his brother to do anything comes at a cost. "What do you want?"
A-Xian lifts a finger to his chin, tapping it as he hums, eyes casing the room. It takes an obnoxiously long time, humming off-key while he's at it, before finally smirking wider than before. Right away Jiang Cheng knows that it's gonna cost him dearly.
But lying in bed at night, staring at the empty spot where his gold Taekwondo medal used to hang, he wages his secret is well worth it.
-/-
Jiang Cheng is twelve when two new students join their class. Both draw frenzied whispers and more than a few lingering looks. The first is a tall regal looking boy who the girls claim is so handsome, donned in pristine white. In Jiang Cheng's opinion, Lan Wangji looks like a tall white bean sprout. The other boy is shorter, dressed in a black leather jacket, pants and boots with jewelry studs decorating nearly his entire ear, the rim of his eyes lined in coal. Xue Yang, danger in the flesh. Or just a vicious lump of coal.
His brother latches onto the sight of both of them, for two different yet related reasons.
One for the sake of annoying, another for the sake of having someone to be annoying with.
What a genuine surprise though that Lan Wangji and Xue Yang prove to be unimpressed by Wei Wuxian. In fact the twinge of annoyance that mars both their features when Jiang Cheng's brother attempts to befriend the troublemaker or probe a reaction out of the studious coat rack gives Jiang Cheng a smug sense of satisfaction. The narcissus flowers thrive leisurely, relishing in the sight of his brother's pout and slumped shoulders.
But then he immediately feels guilty, the freshly germinated florets droop sickly. It's not that he wants his brother hated, god even if his didi took over the world just to destroy it Jiang Cheng thinks he could never hate him, but it's nice when something doesn't come easy to A-Xian, when people don't worship the ground he walks on.
Perhaps this one time he can steal the sunlight.
The opportunity arrives when Jiang Cheng is partnered with Lan Wangji for a project. Going by the non-reaction he receives at the announcement, Lan Wangji may be expecting either Wei Wuxian 2.0 or nothing at all.
So Jiang Cheng mirrors the taller boy's behavior, decidedly not wanting to get on the Lan's bad side. After dividing the work evenly between them, he remains quiet, focuses solely on his half. He doesn't ask questions, and finds the time passes relatively fast. Though Wangji talks as much as dried paint on a wall, there's a smudge of respect in his eyes at his studious dedication. When they receive an A+ when their assignment is handed back, the taller boy bestows him a monotone, "It was nice working with you." One glance at his face and he finds the taller boy means it.
Jiang Cheng has to listen to his brother whine and grumble about the unfairness that Lan Wangji talked to him, all the way home. His pout lasts through dinner and Jiang Cheng doesn't even mind when his brother sneaks into his bed and snuggles against his back, complaining that his bed is cold and he needs the warmth his little brother has.
One down and he decides he needs a different approach to befriend Xue Yang.
Everyone either is scared of him or attracted to him, or maybe it's a little of both; and by the way he smirks, perhaps he relishes in that fact. Jiang Cheng certainly has noticed the looks the new kid gives Xiao Xingchen and occasionally Song Lan, both of his friends wary yet intrigued. Still, a few weeks go by and Xue Yang hasn't really made any friends, but he certainly has made some enemies, given his propensity for a good fight. Though shorter than most of the boys, his fists speak for themselves.
"I like your earrings," Jiang Cheng comments off-handed one day in passing while the troublemaker scribbles on his desk. It's easily to imagine the stem of a single daisy in his hand, held out to the stray angry kid, a peace offering of sorts.
Subtle as a rock but hey, he's twelve, cut him some slack.
Xue Yang snaps his head up, nasty glare already in place like he's expecting to be ridiculed, but it quickly falls when he notices Jiang Cheng's entirely serious. Giving him a once up and down, he replies, "Thanks. I also have tattoos."
Whoa! Dude is 12 and sporting ink already?! Eyebrows raised, Jiang Cheng sits in the seat beside him. "Really? Can I see?"
Smirking, Xue Yang lifts up the bottom of his shirt and showcases a wicked looking dragon, the dark ink slithering along his ribs. It's pretty awesome.
Jiang Cheng whistles, impressed. "Wicked."
The smirk shifts into something genuine, almost a smile. "You wanna see my other sketches? I plan one day to have a whole sleeve."
"Hell yeah," his eagerness has Xue Yang pulling out a sketch book, flipping through pages and pages of designs that are creative and intriguing as Snapdragon seeds.
Wei Wuxian pouts and faces forward in his desk, refusing to speak to Jiang Cheng for the rest of the day.
-/-
Jiang Cheng is thirteen and Xue Yang is in stitches at the lunch table, leaning against Wei Wuxian in a similar state. The lone daisy is long forgotten in the face of ostentatious bouquets, probably smushed under one of those leather boots.
Both the boys had given out their gifts for the Double Seventh Festival, Xue Yang to Song Lan AND Xiao Xingchen while his brother bestowed Lan Wangji with a stuffed bunny. While Xiao Xingchen had smiled, cause his friend always smiles even if you insult his deceased grandmother, it was the reaction of the two stoic students that was most telling. Faces blank, the bright flush of their ears was enough of a tell.
"Shameless," Lan Wangji had mumbled but he wouldn't let go of that stuffed bunny even during chemistry lab.
The two troublemakers were sharing in their exploits, two delighted peas in the pod, brothers from other mothers.
All Jiang Cheng received was a single daffodil, one that wilts within in his chest beneath a plaguing ache.
He decides he didn't much care for the holiday. It's pretty stupid anyways.
-/-
Jiang Cheng is fourteen when he starts high school and immediately catches sight of tangible sunlight that makes bouquets of blue hydrangeas bloom throughout his entire chest.
His name is Lan Xichen, older brother to Lan Wangji, heir to the Lan corporation, top student of his grade, and he's beautiful.
But it's not really his face that makes the word float like a cloud in Jiang Cheng's mind when he takes notice of Xichen. There's a certain softness to him when he smiles, a grace and poise the teen carries in his posture that remains present even when he competes in sports. The junior is also very kind, happy to lend a pencil, a hand, or even an ear to anyone brave enough to approach him.
"A-Cheng," the older boy greets him openly, weaving his name like the finest spun silk. It caresses his skin and soothes the wild Indian paintbrushes that grow so sporadically, long enough to reach down and tickle his stomach like the wings of butterflies. Through their brothers and family connections, they had become acquainted several times and developed a sort of friendship, something Jiang Cheng covets close to his chest, knowing being close to a popular boy two years older than him is by far the coolest thing to happen to a freshman like him.
"A-Huan," he returns the greeting, clutching his books to his chest to hide the way his heart is pounding, along with a couple of flowerets trying to escape.
"Are you feeling well today?" the junior inquires kindly. Jiang Cheng had shared once with the older boy the discomfort he experiences daily, and unlike so many the flawless Lan heir didn't dismiss him. It was nice, especially when Zewu-Jun bestowed genuine sympathy for his plight.
Behind the First Jade of Lan, his best friend Nie Mingjue scoffs. Given he's the older brother of Nie Huaisang, it's not surprising Jiang Cheng's best friend relays the school gossip and even the skepticism of Jiang Cheng's health issues. Nonetheless, it causes the freshman's smile to fall and his shoulders to hunch.
For once, he witnesses Lan Xichen's polite demeanor transform into admonishment as he throws a scolding look over his shoulder at the burly junior, who only shakes his head and wanders off to talk to other classmates. Facing back towards Jiang Cheng, the genial expression returns. "Sorry about him. He's too blunt expressing his opinion." he apologies.
But Jiang Cheng can hear the unspoken words 'and what he believes is true.' Swallowing around the Mountain-laurel popping along his palate and swelling his tongue, Jiang Cheng shakes his head. "It's ok, nothing I haven't heard or seen before," he mumbles.
His eyes skirts away from the pitying look Lan Xichen offers, hating how uncool he sounds. So he finds himself surprised when the older boy lays a gentle hand on his shoulder, earning a wide-eyed look from the younger. "But you're feeling alright?" Lan Huan checks again, as if to be sure.
The Moutain-laurel are immediately smothered by baby blue forget my knots that have him tongue tied for an entirely different reasons. Not wanting to embarrass himself by stuttering, Jiang Cheng nods, allowing a small private smile that is returned wholeheartedly.
-/-
Accompanying his father to business socials is about as fun as it sounds, especially when he's an afterthought to Wei Wuxian.
An entire dictionary of words cannot fully describe the embarrassment he feels when his father introduces his older brother before him, before his own heir. "This is my son Wei Wuxian, he's just started high school." A pause, then, "Oh and this is Jiang Cheng, my youngest."
The uncomfortable looks of his business partners makes Jiang Cheng wish he could rip out the garland of deep red roses and stuff his face in them, if only to hide his shame.
And it's entirely unfair how easily Wei Wuxian can work a crowd, mingle in a room like owns it, dance from group to group, draw laughter or consideration. Jiang Cheng is awkward, blunt, and impatiently glances at his watch, hoping more than a minute has passed than the minute he had previously. These crowds are just so...full of themselves. Since when did being rich become a personality trait?
The only saving grace at these boring ass functions is-
"Senior Jiang, Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng," Lan Xichen greets them, his own name said with such warmth, perhaps it's good the garland didn't make it's appearance, or else he might have done something embarrassing like gift them to the senior. 'These remind me of your beauty.' Bleh! Jesus, he's cringey.
"Jiang Fengmian, it good to see you," Lan Qiren bows politely accompanied by his nephews, the Jiangs reciprocating the gesture. Lan Xichen and his younger brother have probably attended these shindigs for years, given A-Huan is being prepped as the Lan heir. Perhaps these events are what sapped all of the joy from the younger Lan's face.
"I'm glad you two are already familiar with my sons. Perhaps us adults should leave you all to catch up, build some connections" his father suggests, the Lan senior dipping his head in an agreeable notion as they depart, leaving the four of them behind.
"Lan Zhan! Fancy running into you here," his brother skips to his side, leaning against him to jostle the stiff frame. "Now this party can begin! Shall we steal a bottle of Emperor's Smile?" he stages whispers.
The Second Jade of Lan frowns. "Drinking underage is forbidden," his tone as deadpan as ever. Truly a remarkable talent.
Wei Wuxian pretends to pout. "You're no fun Lan Zhan." He then smirks, wiggling his brows. "Too bad I already stole one." He then takes off, running into the crowd.
Lan Wangji flusters, before letting out a pained sigh. "Shameless," but proceeds to follow the wild freshman, no doubt being unknowingly ensnared into his schemes for the night.
Once the two are gone, Jiang Cheng gulps because that leaves...
"Your brother is quite character," Lan Xichen smiles, looking right into his eyes. Inwardly Jiang Cheng deflates. Of course the older Lan brother has become another victim Wei Wuxian has wrapped around their finger.
"If you mean a troublemaker, then you're correct. I'm sure if you wanted, you could go join them," he says the last part quietly, biting his lip.
The older hums. "I'm afraid I wouldn't be too much fun in their company. These formal events are always a bit stiff and Uncle also wants me on my best behavior. Besides, I'd much rather spend the time with you," A-Huan remarks, genuine.
At that, Jiang Cheng lights up, the corners of his lips quirking, roses practically hugging his lungs and heart, he doesn't even mind the pang. He lets the First Jade of Lan guide him around the room, indulging in funny commentary about every older businessman in the room, Jiang Cheng having to muffle his laughter into his shoulder.
Maybe these things aren't so bad after all.
-/-
Jiang Cheng is fifteen when a new student transfers to their school, becoming the target of all the hot gossip. His name is Jin Guangyao and people whisper that he's an illegitimate child of the head of the Jin household. At this particular tea, people react within two categories: they either turn their noses up snidely or seek the student out for any connections their families can gain from the Jin. All in all it's a vicious game, and the poor guy is a peony threatening to be crushed in the greedy hands.
That is until Lan Xichen comes and introduces himself, and suddenly the Jin finds himself under the wings of the First Jade of Lan and the powerhouse Chifeng-Zun.
And soon the adoring gaze of the former.
Jiang Cheng feels the Indian paintbrushes perishing under the megawatt smile the older senior directs solely at the younger Jin, something he had only dreamed about, something that never measured up to what he saw in reality, from his place on the sidelines; one that wasn't directed at him. It's different from the friendly and often empathetic ones Jiang Cheng receives. No, this one carries something deeper than just friendly camaraderie. The intricate camelias with their layers of longing slowly shrivel as the two grow closer and closer, as the delicate peony prospers in the warmth. Part of him wants to intercede, to beg for what he's witnessing to stop, please. But the poisonous brush of the oleander makes his throat close, and the words have nowhere to escape to.
He can't even be mad at Jin Guangyao because he's just so...so...nice. Even compressed beneath the jealous weight of the sickly yellow hyacinth poking at his gums, Jiang Cheng shuts up a few jealous bastards who have nothing better to do than to try to spread malicious lies about the guy. Though if anyone ever asked, he'd deny it to his last breath.
When he hears the wildfire titters spreading the word that Lan Xichen, the most coveted and sought after boy in all of their school district, asked Meng Yao to be his prom date, Jiang Cheng has to bite his lip and not burst into tears right then and there during history. As the words caresses his ears and fade into the air, gone are the foolish daydreams with it. Everyone else is excited for the dance, but not him. He'd be too busy nursing his overgrown garden, attempting to save the flowers that were withering with so little care.
Wei Wuxian got asked out in front of the whole school, but that's because he was the one who asked out Lan Wangji in front of the whole school with a big marching band and confetti. The stoic Lan didn't show emotion except everyone could witness his ears turning red as he mumbled an affirmative whisper that has his brother leaping on the other in joy, smothering the Second Jade of Lan.
Xue Yang had spray painted a big flashy mural on the side of the school near the basketball courts, asking out his two boyfriends. When the principal dragged him away by the ear, the sharp smile only grew wider as Xiao Xingchen blushed while Song Lan stoically raised his eyebrow, clearly impressed.
Even as angry violet petunias germinate at these scenes, he can't begrudge his brother's nor friend's happiness. But the resignation doesn't relieve the agony any less.
-/-
Despite constantly imagining the multitude of arrangements he cultivates, Jiang Cheng still is uncertain what is actually there. Because what kinda of flowers are growing when there's so much unrequited love? When familial, platonic, and romantic affection are so sparse?
He reaches to lay his hand gently on his chest and can almost feel the stressing throb it gives. Perhaps he's growing a garden of tumbleweeds, coiled up tightly together within the expanse of his lungs, and he cannot tell where one begins and another ends.
-/-
It's nearly a year later when everything he holds so dearly close to his chest is threatened. And it all starts so innocently.
It's after a basketball game, when Jiang Cheng is huffing heavily, taking the occasion puff from his inhaler. He's sitting on one of those stiff wooden benches nailed down to the floor in the empty locker room, everyone having already showered and left. He's bent over and willing his lungs to work, trying to push down the tall gladiolus; those damn things always want to have their day in a sun after good games. Show-offs.
"Oh."
Jiang Cheng snaps his head up and goes still at the sight of Lan Xichen, dressed in a white button up paired with tan slacks, staring at the prone form of the younger. The basketball team captain was most certainly supposed to be long gone, but here he is. Fuck.
Jiang Cheng's mouth opens and closes, excuses on the tip of his tongue, but words seem to be failing him today. The older Lan seems to be in a similar position and neither quite knows what to say until a sudden urge to cough has the younger filling the emptiness with his inhaler, taking another grateful puff; the clusters of Kalmia's shiver delighted in the mist.
The footsteps draw nearer until a weight settles beside him, the wooden bench giving a quiet creak. One glance to the side and he finds trouble in those golden eyes.
"I..." The Lan heir takes a good look at him, stare stalling on the inhaler. "I didn't realize that it was that serious."
"Yeah, well I don't really talk about it." He stopped doing so before he turned eleven. But these days it's more "talked" about by everyone else than himself.
The Lan tentative asks, "Do your parents-"
"No. Rather not have them..." Shut him down? Get angry? Mock him? "...worry."
A stiff pause and geez, when was the last time he talked to Lan Xichen? He rarely sees him in the hallway and anytime he encounters him at the business events, Jiang Cheng tended to turn on his heel once spotting Jin Guangyao plastered against his side. Speaking of which...
"A-Huan?" a soft voice calls from the doorway before the dainty peony rounds the corner. Jiang Cheng stuffs the inhaler in his pocket, forces his chest steady. "Are you ready?" The senior blinks, taking notice his boyfriend is not alone. "Hey Jiang Cheng. I saw you out there today. Good game," he complements cordially. See! So damn nice.
"Thanks," he accepts the niceties, still a little out of breath, sounding like he sprinted four miles. Or got run over by a flower truck. How Poetic.
Meng Yao smiles pleasantly, attention slipping back to his boyfriend. "A-Huan, your Uncle and brother are waiting in the car. Dinner reservations are at 7:30," he reminds.
Lan Xichen hesitates one glance towards his boyfriend before back to Jiang Cheng, torn and apologetic. "Wanyin-"
"Don't sweat it. I'm fine," he waves the older boy off, grabbing his duffle and hightailing it out of there. "Enjoy your meal." He even manages a brief facetious attempt at a smile towards Meng Yao, before leaving the locker room. He'll just shower when he gets home, and hope he doesn't cough up any cyclamen fronds this time.
-/-
Of course the next night after his parents return home from a business dinner, it all goes to shit.
He's laying his bed, working on his homework with the front door opens, thundering against the wall. "Jiang Wanyin!" his muquin calls from downstairs, the warning in her tone enough to lift his head. "Come down here this instant."
He nervously scurries off the bed, hurrying out in the hallway and down the stairs, holding onto the banister. His parents stand in the foyer, shucking off their coats to the servants and dismissing them immediately. Both are silent, but it does nothing to dispel the anxiety the turns his stomach. His mother points to the parlor and strides towards it, the click of her heels and the displeased clench to her jaw making him wary. His father doesn't spare him a glance, following A-niang.
A thick swallow and he trails after them.
His father stares off into the fire place and his mother rounds on him the moment he makes his entrance.
"Wanyin, would you care to explain why Lan Xichen inquired about your health? Something about an asthmatic incident after your basketball game?"
There's a sense of betrayal that surges through his veins, one that makes his eyes sting. A-Huan, always thinking of others and cannot help his caring nature, probably thought he was doing the right thing when he brought the incident. He didn't know it would lead to this.
"I..." What can he say when the dead foliage is clogging his throat?
Through the hallway, he can see Wei Wuxian peaking through the railings of the staircase as A-Li, who's visiting for a weekend from university, tries to pull his older brother away, understanding the youngest wouldn't want people to witness him being punished.
"Well? Is that true?" his mother demands.
He bows his head, but nods.
"Do you have an inhaler?"
Reaching into his pocket, he pulls old the trusty red tool and shows his mother. She immediately snatches it, reading the label. "Liu Bang? Who's is this? Did you steal this?!"
He shakes his head. "No muquin it's mine."
"Then who gave this to you?!"
He squeezes his lips shut.
"Jiang Wanyin, I asked you, who gave this to you?!" his mother's voice is shrill.
Swallowing thickly. "Dr. Shu. He refills the prescription," he keeps his eyes lowered, feeling like he's betraying someone who was only trying to help him. It took him years to understand the need for false names on medical prescription labels, to realize it's not just the way things are.
"And why would he do that?! There's nothing wrong with you!" his mother shouts, tossing the half empty inhaler into the fire place, his flowers crisping as if they were the ones being burnt. He mother marches up to him, grasping him tightly by the chin. "Stop pretending to dredge up attention from your father or sympathy from your friends. That's enough Jiang Wanyin!"
She lets him go and stomps off to her office, his shoulders jumping when the office door bangs closed behind her.
His father, who had been watching the plastic inhaler melt, sighs aloud. "Hasn't this gone on for far too long, Jiang Cheng?" He sounds disappointed and he wonders what his father thinks now about that little boy he had praised at dinner after taekwondo practice. Are they no longer one in the same?
Petals fill his mouth, prickling his tongue, but he keeps his lips tightly shut, for this is the last he will speak of it to his parents.
-/-
At lunch the next day, Jiang Cheng is sullen and withdrawn. Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang, both who can never resist juicy gossip even if it's at their own shdidi and friend's embarrassment, must have shared about the fight with their group of friends, because they look pitying if anything.
At the lunch table, Jin Zixun makes a joke to lighten the mood, which does fuck all because a) this person is certainly not their friend and B) it's at Jiang Cheng's expense. That person is rewarded with a well placed elbow to the gut from Song Lan, but it does little to ease the burning of his eyes and the flush of his face. Especially when he can feel some the seniors peering over from a table a few rows down, namely Lan Xichen and his perfect boyfriend. Not even Nie Huaisang's lethal glare directed at the guy can lighten his mood.
"It's not something to joke about," Xiao Xingchen hisses from beside his boyfriend, the usually mellow student sporting an irritable frown.
If there is one thing to know about a Jin, it's that they will double down regardless if they are in the wrong. "Well I'm sorry that his act caught up with him. I mean what did he expect?"
"Shut the fuck up, you prick," Xue Yang sneers.
None of what his friend say matter though, when their words and even the silence of the rest don't retort Jin Zixun's claims. Jiang Cheng decides he doesn't want lunch, standing up and scraping the rest into the trash, hurrying to the exit. He doesn't want empty comforts from his brother who tries to call him back. And he certainly doesn't want to remain here when the flutter of the alluring Wisteria clogs his throat and poison any words he dare offer in his own defense.
-/-
Hurrying down the deserted hallway with stinging eyes, he surprised when he hears someone calls his name. "A-Cheng!"
The familiar voice that once drew him in like a honey bee to a flower's pollen, now makes him want to fly away as fast as he can.
However, a strong hand grasps his arm and he's stopped in his haste. "A-Cheng, I saw you left lunch early and looked upset. Someone-well actually A-Yao said he heard a rumor going around about a fight with your parents regarding...your health," There's a thick pause. "I want to apologize, because I feel it's my fault for overstepping my boundaries. Is there anything I can do?"
The younger boy doesn't have to turn to know the older teen is wearing the kind concern of his, but the thick aftertaste of betrayal still lingers from the previous night. "Haven't you done enough?"
Maybe he meant for the words to come out mean and angry and sharp as the barbs on eryngiums, but they just sound so broken even to his own ears. The other must hear it too, because the hand around his bicep loosens and Jiang Cheng takes his chance to slip out of Lan Huan's grasp, hurrying down the hallway and disappearing around the corner.
-/-
Jiang Cheng is sixteen years old when he's sitting in a deserted bathroom stall located in a restroom on the other side of the school that people rarely frequent, discreetly wiping away the tears with the sleeves of his jacket. For once, the tears seem to ease the pain, the flowers mollified by the wet anguish. And to think such hurtful tears were wrung by such a handsome person, one that he thought could do no harm.
Right then and there, he decides no one can ever know of his garden.
Absolutely no one.
Not his family, not his siblings, not his friends, not even his hopeless crush can ever know about it.
Because all they will try to do is rip it from it's roots in their disbelief. They'll stomp on the soil with their steel toed skepticism until nothing can sprout from it. They'll raze the foliage just to prove their doubts weren't unfounded. And the worst part is, they'll destroy it all, because they won't be able to tell the difference between what's beautiful and what's deadly.
Though through the passing years, Jiang Cheng has come to accept it's one and the same.
-/-
For the rest of the year, Jiang Cheng plays pretend, much more dedicated and engrossed in this performance than the one everyone accuses him of.
He pretends he's a person of peak physical health. He pretends that sports, taekwondo, and even the routine choreography of running up and down the school's three flights of stairs don't suck him dry and leave him gasping once he's at home, showering in the privacy of his own bathroom. He pretends spiked cactuses aren't bulging within his lungs the longer he plays this game of make-believe.
He doesn't get sick, he doesn't struggle, and he doesn't show any more signs of weakness.
He never requests another inhaler after the ashes of his old one were tossed in the trash. Instead he practices method acting through the 'grin and bear it' technique, challenged on the days the flowers have stolen the oxygen they desperately need, forgoing the comfort of the gardener. He never discloses about any lingering twinges or aches to his friends, all in all stops leaning on them for support. He puts on a nonchalant attitude and goes forth each day like he's a typical emotionally repressed high school student, even if he receives occasional side glances and nudges, the ones that might as well read 'finally put aside the act, huh?' His friends move past it like stale gossip, but he's the one that has to bite his lip until it bleeds, clinging desperately to his silence.
At home, encompassed within the sprawling estate like a decaying flower in a cracked vase, he never shares anything with his siblings or his parents anymore, forgoing who he is to behave like the good little heir he's supposed to be: subdued, obedient, an empty shell of a mold.
A flower who's petals are picked off, one by one.
He avoids Lan Xichen and the other members of the 'venerable triad' who try to make small talk with the group when they wander close to their lunch table. It's easy because soon they'll graduate this year and ship off to university and Jiang Cheng won't have to swallow down the petals of indigo peonies that wander up to his throat. Even during business functions his father drags him and his brother along too, he mingles through the room and steers clear of the Lans and Jins after the expected formal greetings.
Jiang Cheng keeps up this performance so well, he's got everyone fooled. Right up until his birthday.
-/-
Jiang Cheng turns seventeen and he has planned to spend his birthday on his own. And the way he plans to celebrate it is to spend all day at a free clinic on the lower west end.
He makes sure to leave his phone at home, fabricating some excuse for his family and friends that he's spending the day with the other, persuading his brother to take that road trip he's been dying to go on with his boyfriend so the two different sides don't conflict. Arriving at the run down building, he uses an alias, dresses in his most plain clothes, and pays in cash.
When the doctor on staff performs an examination using his stethoscope after jotting down Jiang Cheng's symptoms, the middle-aged man frowns at what he discovers behind his tortoise shell spectacles; it's like being eleven again back in Dr. Shu's office, the one that's since been cleared after he was "referred" out. The clinic doctor requests the plump nurse to prepare the decades old X-Ray machine, and tries to assure Jiang Cheng that everything is alright.
"We just want to make sure everything checks out," the doctor offers as appeasement.
Some would be beside themselves with worry at these thin placations, but Jiang Cheng is anxious for an entirely different reason, leg jiggling, on the edge of his seat, dying to know.
And 15 minutes later, when he's presented with an x-ray illuminated on the film viewer, displaying the cysts that look like flower buds just beginning to bloom in springtime, he smiles. It's a shaky little thing accompanied by a single tear drop, but it's there resting above his quivering chin. The uneasy doctor is taken aback, the attending nurse fretfully concerned but Jiang Cheng can only focus on that beautiful portrait of his chest.
His little garden is real after all.
-/-
Jiang Cheng has been seventeen for a week when he takes a bus during lunch hour to visit a lawyer's office on the outskirts of the suburbs.
He didn't even bother going through the motions of grabbing his lunch, sitting down, only to stumble through a flimsy excuse of why he had to leave early. Nah, instead he booked out of the school the minute the lunch bell rang, forgoing his phone that would no doubt be vibrating by now in his locker.
The location is a small place, less fancy and far more unassuming than the bigger high rises like the Jin's golden Carp Tower and the sky-scraping corporate practice of Gusu Lan situated in the middle of downtown. No, this building is older, design dated, brickwork shoddy, and the uneven sidewalk threatens to trip anyone who isn't watching where they step.
In other words, it's perfect.
Jiang Cheng enters the building, greets the secretary, and requests to meet with the first available lawyer that specializes in legal emancipation.
-/-
When his parents are served the court papers a few weeks later, they are furious.
His mother can barely speak, her mouth pinched so tightly and a vein throbs at her temple. Surprisingly his father is the one that outwardly explodes, shouting questions across the dining room table, loud enough for the servants hiding in the kitchen to hear.
"What is this?!"
"You cannot be serious?!"
"Jiang Cheng do you know what this will do to the family?!"
His brother looks equals parts shocked, outraged, and bewildered at what his little didi is attempting to do. His sister's entire demeanor bares distress, probably wondering why her precious baby brother is breaking their family apart; perhaps also considering what it'll do to her engagement to the Jin heir. Both reactions do nothing to lessen Jiang Cheng's resolve.
Even during the tirade and the tears, Jiang Cheng remains silent. He guards his little garden behind a locked white picket fence, resigning to becoming the ghost that will no longer haunt Lotus Pier estate.
-/-
Given the delicate situation, Jiang Cheng is provided temporary housing through the justice department. He still attends school, does his coursework, fulfills his positions in the different sports teams he's on, but if he was subdued before, now he's resolutely silent at the lunch table. His friends attempt to pull him into conversation, but he just feigns like he doesn't hear, and Nie Huaisang can flap his fan about all he wants. After a while they must catch on that something is going on back home, especially with the way Wei Wuxian stares intensly at his didi during the whole lunch hour while the younger boy doesn't spare his gege the time of day. Even Lan Wangji inquisitive looks towards his boyfriend are met with a tense shake of the head.
Given the sensitive nature of this court case and his family all about public appearances, none of them are allowed to talk about it openly. Which suits him just fine.
One the days he doesn't have sports, his afternoons are spent at that the quaint law office. Jiang Cheng is assigned an amicus attorney, one appointed by the court for private family law cases. His name is Mr. Miyagi and he's an older gentleman with an amiable disposition, the grandfather type that receives your words with utmost respect instead of searching weaknesses that can be leveraged later. He takes in all the documents Jiang Cheng complied from the free clinic, xeroxed on a school printer. The older man nods his head during intervals as Jiang Cheng goes through his timeline, one he wrote down in meticulous detail containing any and all grievances he had with the lack of care, the neglect as well as the emotional and psychological....abuse he underwent.
Abuse. It's hard to saying that word out loud, but he's come to learn it's not normal for parents to dismiss your concerns nor berate for every little thing. It's not normal to be gaslighted when they hurt your feelings and you speak up about it, only for the table to be flipped back on you. It's not normal to punish a child, their own damn child for wanting to seek medical attention.
Mr. Miyagi doesn't look at him with pity or false concern, he doesn't given him threadbare reassurances. Instead he thanks him for divulging such personal information and then proceeds to lay out what to expect in the coming court hearing. Even if he doesn't voice it, Jiang Cheng appreciates the straight forward approach a lot.
His lawyer examines the timeline, fingers holding onto the frame of his glasses while the other writes in a yellow notepad. "You've said you've been experiencing symptoms since the age of-"
"Nine," Jiang Cheng answers, picking at the loose thread of his jacket sleeve.
The scratching of the pen stops and Mr. Miyagi peers up at him, face not giving anything away. "That's certainly a long time," is his only comment.
A shuddering sigh from the teen, one that ruffles the vegetation years in the making. "Yeah, it has been."
-/-
If there was one thing Jiang Cheng should've known when taking on the Jiang's, it's that both sides strive to fulfill their namesake: 'Attempt the impossible.'
Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Fengmian were never gonna to make this easy. Not when the Jiang name and reputation were at stake.
They hired the Langling Jin law firm to represent them in court, which is not surprising given Madam Yu and Madam Jin's close kinship and the patriarchs of both households mutual business pursuits. Jin Guangshan will take point while his son and A-Li's fiance' Jin Zixuan will assist, despite the guy being fresh faced having just recently graduated from law school. Jiang Cheng also thinks there's some conflict of interest given Jin Zixuan is set to marry his sister. But he guesses names and money will grease rusted wheels, if you catch his drift.
Unlike the direct offense attack Jiang Cheng and Mr. Miyagi are expecting, they're met with an underhanded ploy. Stalling.
The defense delays it, asking for documents, requesting a reprieve for this, another rescheduling conflict for that, anything and everything to keep this hearing from proceeding and make sure the news outlets never catch wind of this. The delays are running Jiang Cheng's savings dry and fast.
Maybe his family and their closest confidants thought that by delaying this hearing, the inevitable would happen. That somehow making this legal proceeding as messy and convoluted as possibly would make Jiang Cheng admit defeat.
And you know what? They would be right. Jiang Cheng will concede after months of fruitless endeavors and having to yank out spouting weeds.
But that's only because a better reason gave him an out.
-/-
Jiang Cheng turns eighteen and on that very same day, he stuffs his identification documents and already obtained high school diploma in his backpack alongside the last bit of savings he has left. He leaves a single letter addressed to Mr. Miyagi, a flimsy excuse of an apology.
Slipping out of the window of his temporary residence at the stroke of midnight, he runs away with a one-way bus ticket out of the city burning his pocket.
Though unable to carry little of his possessions along, he makes sure to take his garden with him, potted plants and all.