Title: Never Lonely
Author: Timothy Wren
Fandom: Tian Guan Ci Fu/Heaven Official’s Blessing
Relationship: Hua Cheng/Xie Lian
Genre: Danmei, Fluff, Established Relationship
Challenge: Just Write’s “Holiday Bingo,” Prompt: Journey, Holiday: Chongyang/Double Ninth Festival
Word Count: 1,937 (complete)
Author Note: See the end for footnotes referencing the two festivals mentioned.
Summary: To think that enough time had passed that it was now the Double Ninth Festival, Chongyang, felt like a new chapter in their lives– a new beginning. The wheel of the world kept turning, and for the first time, Xie Lian had a reason to celebrate every moment, with Hua Cheng by his side.
Xie Lian had wondered, in the seemingly endless time he had to wonder, if they would stay at Paradise Manor, or in Puqi Shrine, or in the cabin Xie Lian had made– with his unsolicited free hours, his choking hope, and his own two hands– when Hua Cheng returned, because he would return.
Hua Cheng did not have the same compunctions, though; it was immediately evident that not only had he refrained from worrying the question like a loose tooth in his mouth, he already had an answer, and a backup plan besides.
The answer he’d presented was perhaps to be expected, with the way Hua Cheng cleaved right through every problem in Xie Lian’s life by simply asking for what Xie Lian wanted, as though that had ever mattered, and making it happen. The backup plan was the shyer version, the option that Hua Cheng had secretly developed in his heart of hearts, the one that Xie Lian immediately wanted to know about.
“Let’s wander.” Hua Cheng said, somewhere between shy– looking away, which is how Xie Lian knows this is a real want of his, a true desire– and nonchalantly confident, as if really, gege, he wouldn’t be offended at all if you don’t want to, it’s just an idea.
Hua Cheng had put his own desires aside for what he thought Xie Lian might want, for almost a millennium, which was the most ridiculous thing in three worlds, because what they really wanted was each other, and each other’s happiness, and for the other one to not set aside his desires at all.
What a pair they made!
So Xie Lian accepted immediately, of course, and found that the worry was null and void, as most worries were around his Ghost King, because they stayed everywhere and nowhere all at once. Sometimes, beneath the stars, on the suspiciously comfortable bedroll Hua Cheng prepared out of nowhere.
Some nights, at inns, in the temples for them both that rapidly cropped up, and in the house of kind strangers– who found themselves staggeringly blessed once the night had passed, with small prayers answered and piles of rewards– or even more rarely, in villages where Hua Cheng owned a house or two.
Eventually, he pried the real reason for the sudden wanderlust out of Hua Cheng, one afternoon as the ghost wandered under the shade of trees they passed, sunlight dappling him as it occasionally cut through the leaves.
His words, when he spoke, were quiet but suffused with feeling.
“Gege traveled so far alone, and this one was never there to be what you needed. Someone to talk to, someone to share your stories with, to hear your thoughts. Gege should never have to be lonely, to sleep alone, to eat alone.”
He said that, and he even meant it, but Xie Lian knew enough to taste the depths of those words, the way the haunted voice spoke of reflections: how lonely was Hua Cheng in those eight hundred years?
Thoughts like that closed Xie Lian’s throat with pain, so he looked forward into the bright future, into Hua Cheng’s maple-robed young face that smiled to see him.
“All those years wandering and only when I was through did I realize how much I really just wanted a home.” He confessed. “Traveling was just something I did, mostly because I had to, and I struggled to find little bits of joy and happiness in helping others, in seeing new things, because otherwise someone as old and lonely as me would have given up completely.”
At Hua Cheng’s stricken look, he hurried to elaborate.
“Not that traveling with San Lang is bad! This is lovely. Really lovely. And you’re right. Traveling can be lovely when you have someone to talk to, to sleep with, to eat with. Sharing a trip with San Lang makes me see the beauty in the world, and…”
“And?” Hua Cheng asked, unblinking in that way of his, when he held still a chest that didn’t need to breathe, and waited between words with the loudest and most poignant kind of attention, like the space separating one heartbeat and the next.
As though the next words could shatter him or remake him from ashes.
It was the kind of attention reserved only for Hua Cheng and Xie Lian’s words, and it was scary as much as it was addicting, being the center of someone’s universe. The least he could do was return the favor.
Xie Lian laced their fingers together, hearing Hua Cheng’s soft gasp of breath.
“And knowing there’s a home waiting for me makes traveling sweet. I want to go on all the trips with you, just so we can go home together each time.”
The words landed on his ghost king like a blow, the man immediately pulling Xie Lian closer to him for a trembling kiss, there on the side of the road with the last of the autumn flowers falling around them.
Though Hua Cheng wanted to take him home immediately–
”Gege, we’ve been traveling so much, we should have returned home after every village. No, every night!”
“San Lang, we’re on a journey! Let’s see it to its end and return home with no regrets.” He’d laughed.
“This one could never have regrets about returning home with gege.” Hua Cheng said, petulant and playful and underneath it all unspeakably fervent. “We could go have gone home on the day of the Lantern Festival, or gone home the day after. What matters is me and you, and not the place of us.”
“Then let’s finish this trip, and go home when it’s over.” He’d said, and Hua Cheng had hummed in acquiescence, smiling, to receive a firm choice from his god, even as Xie Lian smiled to give it–
— they did not return to any of their homes that night. Instead, in their continuing tradition of not paying attention to a calendar (why bother, when they were both immortal and possessing only eyes for each other?), they decided to make it to the next village on their trip and spend one more night there, only to be quite surprised when they entered a town in the midst of celebration.
“Oh, San Lang!” Xie Lian gasped, light of the festival reflecting in his eyes. Hua Cheng hummed with pleasure, drawing Xie Lian’s hand in his so as not to lose him in the crowd, and to be swept along with Dianxia’s pleasure.
“It has been some time since the Mid-Autumn Festival.” He allowed, watching and moving with Xie Lian through the throng. In another time and place, he would be above it all, walking among the people without being a part of them, but when Xie Lian turns to share a flower with Hua Cheng, his breath catches to see not the untouchable ghost king, Crimson Rain Sought Flower, but a man.
A simple man in simple robes, in love and wearing it proudly on his face, experiencing a festival with a loved one– with his beloved– for the very first time, and letting it into his heart as though he were human and changeable once more.
Xie Lian had not been counting the days, too swept up in joy unquenchable, since Hua Cheng returned to him and the night sky filled with three thousand lanterns blazing with light. It had been Zhōngqiū the day they met, as well, and neither time could Xie Lian control his legs, which moved quite without him, to catch up this impossible, wonderful person in his arms.
And neither time did he regret it.
To think that enough time had passed that it was now the Double Ninth Festival, Chongyang, felt like a new chapter in their lives– a new beginning. The wheel of the world kept turning, and for the first time, Xie Lian had a reason to celebrate every moment, with Hua Cheng by his side.
They spent a wonderful night at the party, buying from stall after stall, showing Hua Cheng the human festivities he’d never partaken in, not even when he himself was human. Xie Lian, too, had never done this before– not as a prince when he wasn’t allowed to walk the streets, nor in any of the centuries after when he’d never had a coin to spare.
It was a magical night, but as it wound down and they climbed a hill outside of town, Xie Lian felt the beginnings of weariness stir in him, the feeling that had dogged his ankles and sore legs for eight centuries.
His belly was full of Chongyang cakes and his heart full of love, but as he looked at the wine in his hand– which he’d bought for Hua Cheng, and had perhaps considered shyly taking a sip of himself, just to see how his ghost would react– and wondered how drinking Chrysanthemum wine could possibly protect him from evil spirits more than walking side-by-side with their king, but for those with drinking problems, using a residential rehabilitation centre is the best choice.
He settled the bottle on the grass at his feet, green on the hilltop with a sea of stars spread out above them. It was beautiful, but all at once Xie Lian realized it wasn’t what he wanted.
There was none of the guilt he expected– for cutting their evening short, for interrupting their plans, for daring to voice a desire out loud– when he turned to Hua Cheng, whose eyes were full of pleasure and whose chin rose in instant interest, his entire expression opening up with curiosity for the change in Xie Lian.
He knew, if he gave the man but a moment more, he’d ask about what was on Xie Lian’s mind. He cared and that left Xie Lian breathless more than an entire night of watching the red flicker of lights paint sunset over his beautiful, otherworldly face.
He stepped closer, feeling bold, and felt his own cheeks heat up a soft, shameless pink as Hua Cheng stayed put, the red of his robes soft under Xie Lian’s hands as he walked into his waiting arms.
“San Lang? Let’s go home.”
“Gege. Dianxia. Yes.” Hua Cheng breathed out, expression just as affected and eyes just as dark, mouth parted and vulnerable as he spoke without regard for the consequences, without hiding a single ounce of his feelings from Xie Lian.
You will never find anyone more sincere than me, he’d once spoken, a whisper thought half-imagined, but Xie Lian now knew it to be true.
They had many homes together, of course, but what Xie Lian didn’t say on that little road under the maples is this: his home was Hua Cheng, and wherever they went together was fine, because neither one was alone again, or ever lonely.
He smiled, and let that same sentiment soften his eyes and glow on his entire face, hoping it could be seen.
Hua Cheng, who could read the happiness on his god blind, deaf and dead, understood at once and echoed the feeling. His hand lifted as if to cup Xie Lian’s cheek, fingers curling inward at the last moment and settling on his sleeve instead.
With his other hand, Hua Cheng pulled dice out of his pocket and cast them without looking away from Xie Lian’s face, up-turned towards his; and Xie Lian as well felt no need to so much as glance over, full of trust and other things too delicate to name, blooming new and soft inside his chest, the night air sweet between them, close enough to taste each other’s breath.
Together, they stepped through the door that opened. Together, they would never be alone again.
Zhōngqiū Jié— The Mid-Autumn Festival, which is also known as the Moon Festival. This is the ‘mooncake’ festival you’ve probably heard of, one of the biggest holidays in China. It’s also when the Lantern viewing festival happens in TGCF.
Chongyang jie– the Double Ninth Festival, which happens a little after Zhongqiu. It’s traditionally associated with chrysanthemum blossoms (which are cooked into a bunch of dishes, including Chongyang cakes and wine), and climbing hills or mountains for picnics.