Jiang Cheng is running. He doesn't know why and he doesn't know where to, but there's this rush, this desperation, inside him that makes his legs move faster. His heart is hammering under his ribs and his whole body feels like glass. Every step he takes causes the whole forest around him to crack. There are screams surrounding him and he isn't sure if they belong to him or someone else, and still he keeps on running because it's all he can do.
When he stops, the sword he's carrying is dripping with blood. He squints his eyes and tries to see through the darkness, find the danger he's been evading. Everything continues to spin. The only thing he is seeing is the crimson that continues to stain his sword.
“Uncle...”
Jiang Cheng whirls around. The towering trees of the forest cage him in, laughing.
“Uncle, stop!”
The whole world shakes and the laughter gets louder, louder. Jiang Cheng is screaming. Is he scared? Angry? Insane? He doesn't know but the laughing won't stop, not even when he blindly attacks at the trees.
“Uncle!”
He's knocked back. His head slams against the ground. Everything shatters.
When he opens his eyes, Fairy is licking his face and quite literally crushing him.
“What the—?” Jiang Cheng splutters. His left cheek is now covered is dog slobber. “Jin Ling, get him off me!”
Fairy whines as Jin Ling tugs on his collar, pulling him off the drowsy adult. Jiang Cheng has to blink several times to readjust himself back to reality.
“He's only waking you up from your nightmare,” Jin Ling grumbles, stroking Fairy's ears.
At the mention of nightmare, Jiang Cheng glances down at his bed. As usual, his sheets are a mess and his pillows are on the floor. He knows he's been struggling in his sleep, attacking some unknown thing in his dreams. It's always the same dream; he's running in the forest and trying to kill something. He'll wake up before he ever finds out what's going on.
Usually, he's not one to care for superstition, but if the same dream's been haunting him for years then that's got to mean something. He even tried to see if walking through an actual forest will do anything, but all he found was that Lan Xichen guy waving around a sword in broad daylight.
And he knows his dream definitely isn't anything about that weirdo.
Clutching his head, Jiang Cheng tries to shake away the drowsiness still clinging to him. “Ah, shit. What time is it?”
Jin Ling juts his chin up. “Just past nine.”
The officer almost doesn't hear him. His nephew is purposely mumbling, his lips curled. It takes Jiang Cheng a second to realise Jin Ling's making a show of looking pissed and he has to stop himself from rolling his eyes.
Still half asleep, Jiang Cheng sees an image of Lan Xichen. Do not let your anger cloud your own emotions, he says in Jiang Cheng's head. The smile accompanied with those echoing words has the officer wondering why this feels like a goddamn religious experience. He shakes his head and shoves Lan Xichen's angelic face out of his head.
He rubs his eyes, holding back a yawn.
“Look, Jin Ling... I'm sorry about yesterday, okay?” he says. The words he said to the teenager plays back in his mind. Jiang Cheng can't help but wince.
Jin Ling blinks. “What?”
“I said I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that.”
“You're sorry?”
“Yes,” Jiang Cheng says through gritted teeth. Jin Ling isn't even bothering to hide the shock on his face!
“Wow,” he says.
Wow? Wow? Jiang Cheng forgets all about Lan Xichen's benevolent advice and glares at his nephew.
“Shut the fuck up, I'll break your legs!”
Jin Ling hides behind Fairy, throwing out a scowl of his own over the dog's fluffy ears. “You can't apologise and then say that!”
“I'll do whatever the fuck I want!”
“No! Apology not accepted!”
Jiang Cheng has half a mind to chuck a pillow at his nephew, but stops just in case he hits Fairy instead.
“You really want your legs broken?!” he yells instead.
“N-No! I-I mean... I'll forgive you if you help me with my history homework!”
What? What? Is that why he's here? So much for waking Jiang Cheng up from his nightmare—the brat just needed someone to do his homework for him!
“You've got some nerve!”
Jin Ling finally jumps out from behind Fairy, clasping his hands together and bowing his head. “Please, Uncle! It's due on Monday!”
Today is Saturday and he's going to that midget's house tomorrow. Anyone with a brain will know that Jin Ling never gets any work done when he's with Meng Yao. All the actor does is shower Jin Ling with gifts he doesn't need, forgetting the fact Jin Ling is fifteen now and is too old for toys.
But, as expected, Jin Ling won't complain about it.
“Why the fuck haven't you started it yet?” Jiang Cheng asks. He leaves the bed with a groan, combing his fingers through his hair.
Jin Ling looks down, shuffling his feet. “It's the class I have with those kids, okay... I haven't been able to focus much on the work.”
He must mean the idiots that keep picking a fight with him. Jiang Cheng sighs; he can just imagine Jin Ling trying his best to ignore those assholes, but his nephew, like him, feels too much. Both of them can pretend all they want; it doesn't stop it from hurting.
“What's it even about anyway?” Jiang Cheng asks, no longer feeling the urge to break Jin Ling's legs.
“I don't know, like Ancient China history and whatever.”
Well, shit. He knows nothing about that as well.
“Wait, I'll get dressed first and then... we can research it or something,” Jiang Cheng says. How typical that he ends up spending his only day off helping his nephew with his essay.
Researching for the essay is a harder first step than Jiang Cheng realised, and it's all because he can't find his laptop at all. He searches around his apartment, trying to remember when was the last time he saw it. Chief Nie wanted him to do more research on the gang attacks... Jiang Cheng brought his laptop to the police station so he could get some extra work done during his breaks...
“Ah, shit. I left my laptop at the police station,” he says, finally remembering.
Jin Ling looks at him like all hope is lost.
“Fucking hell,” Jiang Cheng mutters. “Let's go to the station first and then I'll help you with your damn homework. This is the only time though!”
Just like that, his nephew grins. Beside him, Fairy barks and wags his tail.
“Thank you, Uncle!”
Why is he thanking him already? Jiang Cheng hasn't even started the damn essay yet.
They make their way to the police station. Jiang Cheng is not at all happy he still ends up going to work during his day off, but at least it doesn't look like everyone is on edge. That can only mean Chief Nie is in a relatively okay mood.
Song Lan spots him, frowning when he catches sight of Jin Ling and Fairy behind.
“I thought it was your day off?” he asks. Song Lan spares a moment to kneel down and ruffle Fairy's head. The smile creeping up on his face makes him look more relaxed, reminding Jiang Cheng this guy is around ten years younger than everyone here, despite how mature he acts.
Jiang Cheng nods. “Yeah, I just forgot my laptop.”
Standing back up, Song Lan taps his chin. “Oh, right. Chief Nie found it earlier. He's kept it in his office. I think he should be on his break now, so you should be okay to get it.”
“Thanks,” Jiang Cheng says.
He beckons Jin Ling to follow him, who is staring around the station with wide eyes. This is one of the rare times he's brought Jin Ling to the station. It's always funny how cautious Jin Ling gets when he's here; it's like he expects some random criminal to jump out of nowhere.
They reach Nie Mingjue's office. Jiang Cheng knocks once, but he doesn't hear anything. He knocks again and hears a faint sound of what must be grunting, so he decides that's enough of a response to go in.
He doesn't expect to find Nie Mingjue watching TV and dabbing his eyes with a tissue. He sniffs a couple of times before whirling around and roaring at Jiang Cheng.
“What the fuck are you doing in here!” he yells, chucking the tissue away. His face contorts into its usual scowl, although that doesn't get rid of his swollen red eyes.
“I knocked!” Jiang Cheng says. “Are you... Are you crying?”
Nie Mingjue slams a fist on the table. “No!”
Meanwhile, Jin Ling has ducked under Jiang Cheng's arm and slipped inside the room. His face lights up when he sees the TV screen, pointing at it with a grin.
“Oh, it's Uncle Meng Yao! You're watching his drama?”
If Nie Mingjue could get any redder, he probably would have exploded by now.
“No, I'm not!”
Jiang Cheng might have believed him if the DVD for Crimson Heart isn't currently on his desk for the whole world to see. Following his gaze, Nie Mingjue snatches it and shoves it into one of his drawers.
“Huaisang was pestering me to watch his stupid show!” he growls.
All Jiang Cheng does is nod. He was friends with Huaisang back in high school and he knows how much of a pain he can be. Still, he also knows Nie Mingjue has a soft spot for his younger brother—even if he won't admit it.
He watches the TV screen, scoffing at the scene it's on. For some reason, Meng Yao is on the floor with a puddle of blood under him. He's dressed in fancy golden robes; the type of robes you'd find people wearing two thousand years ago. His hair is much longer here too, almost down to his waist. It kinda reminds Jiang Cheng of Lan Xichen, actually. He'd probably be able to walk around in robes like these and pull it off.
As annoying as the guy is, Jiang Cheng will admit Meng Yao's a good actor. He makes a good show of coughing up blood and crying for a bit, even though Jiang Cheng doesn't know what the hell is happening. After an emotional internal monologue and sad music playing in the background, Meng Yao finally dies.
“Why is that midget dead?” he asks. The scene pans out to show his character, all alone, with no one to witness his tragic end.
“He sacrificed himself! He only realised he cared for the older prince in this scene, after betraying them in the first place!” Jin Ling says. He sounds a bit too passionate for Jiang Cheng's liking. “Later on, he gets reincarnated and vows to atone for all his—”
“No spoilers!” Nie Mingjue snaps.
So much for only watching it because Huaisang made him. Jiang Cheng resists the strong urge to facepalm and returns to the matter at hand.
“Anyway, sorry to, uh, disturb you, Chief Nie,” he says, ignoring the older man's murderous gaze. “I was looking for my laptop.”
Nie Mingjue points to one of his shelves. Sure enough, Jiang Cheng immediately spots his laptop bag.
“Get it and go! Stop bothering me!” Nie Mingjue says.
Gladly, Jiang Cheng thinks as he pushes Jin Ling and Fairy out of the office. They leave the station in record timing. Jiang Cheng mentally vows he will forget ever seeing Nie Mingjue sobbing his eyes out watching Crimson Heart.
“Uncle, I know a library where you can do my essay,” Jin Ling says, leading the way.
“I can do your essay? Don't be so cheeky! I'm only helping!”
Jin Ling doesn't say anything, but the pout on his face is enough to say he's not happy about that. He has some nerve!
They stop outside a small building at the end of a quiet street. It doesn't look like it's busy, which is just as good because they're going to need a miracle to get this essay done today.
The smell of lavender hits him when he enters. He frowns, not because he recognises that scent, but because he sees a familiar face standing by the counter.
“Good morning, both of you,” Lan Xichen says. He is in the middle of tying his hair back into a bun.
How many times is he going to bump into this guy? With him living so close to Jiang Cheng, it's literally impossible to go through one day without seeing his face.
Jiang Cheng frowns, looking around. For what it's worth, the place looks really neat and organized, though he wouldn't have expected any less from this guy.
“You work here?”
Lan Xichen nods. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
Before he can open his mouth, a head pops out from the shelves. Jiang Cheng recognises it to be that kid that was with Lan Xichen a few weeks ago, when he helped him tidy his apartment. Jin Ling's friend, apparently. What was his name again?
“Jin Ling! You're here again!” the kid says, running to Jin Ling.
Jin Ling does that thing where he pretends he's not happy to see someone when he actually is. He turns away, waving a dismissive hand.
“I-I just need to do my history homework! It's not like I remembered you worked here or anything!”
So that's why Jin Ling suggested they go here. Does he want this essay done or is he just here to hang out with his new friend? By the looks of it, he really expects Jiang Cheng to do all the damn work.
“Uncle is good at history,” Jin Ling's friend says. “He can help.”
Jin Ling looks at Lan Xichen as if he is seeing the answer to all his problems. “Really?”
The older man chuckles. “I will be happy to help with what knowledge I have. The library is fairly quiet so far anyway.”
Luckily, the library remains quiet for most of the morning. They all gather around one table; Jin Ling typing like mad as Lan Xichen tells him all about the different Chinese Dynasties. His voice is strangely calming, and the way he talks makes it sound like he's been there in person. Even Fairy is huddled by the librarian's feet, settled and quiet for once. Jin Ling's friend (who is apparently called Sizhui) sits next to Jin Ling, listening to his uncle with a small smile on his face. Jiang Cheng does the same, but he doesn't smile. He keeps his gaze on Lan Xichen.
At first, he wondered just how this guy knew so much. Now, he's got other questions on his mind, like why does it look like he's reminiscing instead of spouting out facts? Sometimes, Lan Xichen will smile, or even laugh to himself, when he describes how people used to act. Other times, there's a strange, far-away sadness in his eyes; the type of expression you'll see if someone is talking about what they've lost.
Still, he remains silent. It wouldn't feel right to interrupt him.
It's only when Jin Ling's stomach lets out a sound that resembles a choking cat that Lan Xichen stops. Blushing, Jin Ling shrinks into his chair, trying in vain to hide behind the laptop. Jiang Cheng looks at his watch. It's almost lunch time. Has he been listening to Lan Xichen that long?
“Let's get lunch first,” Jiang Cheng says. He stands up and winces when he feels a few bones clicking. “Lan Xichen, is it okay if we get some food to eat here?”
The librarian nods, rising as well. “Feel free to do so. I will close the library for lunch.”
Jiang Cheng hands Jin Ling some money for him to go out and get food for all of them. His friend goes with him, as expected, and Jiang Cheng can only hope they'll actually come back with lunch and not get distracted.
“Oh, Officer?” Lan Xichen's voice gets his attention.
Jiang Cheng turns to him.
“You can call me Xichen. There is no need to be so formal.”
He says while still referring to Jiang Cheng as Officer and talking like he's from the middle ages.
“Alright, Xichen. Then you can call me Jiang Cheng. I already told you.”
Xichen smiles. “I know, Officer.”
Jiang Cheng narrows his eyes. So he's just doing it to annoy him or something? Whatever. It doesn't matter. He actually doesn't mind the title. Considering how they met, Xichen should respect him. Jiang Cheng is still convinced he has the sword. Although, since he's helping Jin Ling with his homework then he can let it slide for now.
The teenagers return with three large boxes of pizza. True to his word, Xichen closes the library while they eat their lunch—not like it matters because they've barely received any customers today.
Jiang Cheng is hungrier than he thought, easily eating three slices within ten minutes. He feeds Fairy a few slices as well, laughing under his breath at the sight of his tail wagging faster than it's ever done. Everyone is silent, enjoying their lunch.
Well, mostly everyone. Jiang Cheng pauses, watching Xichen awkwardly picking up a pizza. He stares at it for a second, as if not knowing how to hold it, and then takes out a napkin from his pocket and proceeds to take the smallest bite in the history of all bites.
Jiang Cheng has never seen someone eat a pizza with so much stuck up grace in his life. Even Jin Zixuan, who eats his slices with a fucking knife and fork, isn't this bad.
“Have you never eaten a pizza before?” Jiang Cheng asks.
Xichen lets out a small laugh and one of the mushrooms fall off from his pizza. Who the hell is this guy? First, he owns a sword and now he doesn't know how to eat a pizza? Not to mention, he also has Chinese history memorised like he's lived through each day of it. If Jiang Cheng was crazy like Wei Ying, he'd have though Xichen was a time traveller.
“It's pizza,” Jiang Cheng says with one raised eyebrow. “You literally just shove the whole thing in your mouth.”
Xichen's eyebrows furrow together. He contemplates for a second before finally dropping that fucking napkin. Then, he takes another larger bite.
“I'm afraid I do not have much experience in shoving large things into my mouth, as you say,” he says after he has finished chewing.
Jin Ling snorts so loud he ends up choking on his food.
Jiang Cheng takes a deep breath, glaring daggers at his immature nephew from across the table. He didn't need that mental image, thank you very much. Not over food. Not any time, actually.
Sadly, Jin Ling is too busy still spluttering to even notice him glaring. In the end, Sizhui has to smack his back for him to cough it out. The rest of lunch is eaten without any more choking or unintended innuendos, much to Jiang Cheng's relief.
Spending his day off holed in a library, listening to some guy go through China's historical timeline isn't exactly what Jiang Cheng had in mind today. At the very least, it's not as bad as he thought. Xichen is doing most of the work and the library is quiet enough that he still gets some peace. It's no luxurious day off, but it'll do. He's not complaining.
In fact, it's too peaceful. Jiang Cheng ends up dozing off on his seat; Xichen's voice and the faint scent of lavender is the last thing he remembers before he lets his eyes drift close.
- x -
Today is too quiet and it is not a silence that Wangji is comfortable with. Rather than welcoming, it feels delicate, fragile. It is the calm before the storm, the glass you step on that breaks beneath your feet and throws you into the unknown. He knows this could be paranoia, but it does not stop the weight he feels in his chest as he walks around the city.
There is nothing that looks different. The city is as bland as ever, its people minding their own business and living about their lives as they always have. On the surface, it is just any other day.
Wangji sighs. He ought to go home. It is pointless ambling through the city when there is nothing needed for him to do. On his way back to his car, he walks past a woman wearing a bright red coat. The vibrancy of the coat is the only reason why Wangji's eyes flicker to her, and then he stops when he sees it is someone he knows.
“Mr. Lan,” Wen Qing greets with a smile. “Good afternoon.”
Wangji bows his head at her. “Good afternoon, Doctor Wen.”
She buries her hands into her coat pockets, shivering slightly. Many people say Wangji has a face that is permanently cold and unapproachable; Wen Qing, on the other hand, has one that looks like she is always criticising you. It is a clear contrast to the timid behaviour of her younger brother.
“It's lucky I bumped into you, actually,” she says. “I've been meaning to talk to you. Do you want to go for a coffee? I was just heading to the café.”
Wangji frowns.
She sighs. “I was hoping to talk about Wei Ying.”
It is impossible for Wangji to deny anything that is remotely related to Wei Ying. He nods, following the young woman as she leads him to the café her brother works at. It is emptier than usual; it does seem there is barely anyone ambling through the city today.
They order their coffee and sit down by the window. Wangji does not say anything as Wen Qing takes off her coat, neatly hanging it behind her on the chair. After taking a sip of her coffee, she does not waste any time on small talk.
“Has he been speaking to you?”
Wangji remembers Wei Ying pulling him closer, his slender hands gripping his tie. He was so close that Wangji could almost taste him. It took every ounce of his self control not to close the distance between them. He does not know how he survived through that with his sanity still in tact.
“No,” Wangji says. It is the truth anyway. Wei Ying will not voluntarily speak to him now.
Wen Qing does not even look surprised. “Did anything happen during your date?”
“He... did not want anything to happen between us.”
“Is that it?”
No. Wangji can still see Wei Ying's grey eyes glossing over. He did not seem to breathe or move at that moment. Just when Wangji began to worry, Wei Ying returned and asked him if they had met before. He's lost count of the amount of times he's replayed that memory in his head.
Is Wei Ying getting his memories back? How? Why?
Is that a good thing?
Wangji wants nothing more than for Wei Ying to smile at him like he used to, though he knows that smile already disappeared long before Wei Ying died. He would rather Wei Ying not remember him at all if it means he will never go through the turmoil that was his original life.
Wei Ying deserves better than that.
“He seemed to... remember something,” Wangji slowly says.
Wen Qing's brows wrinkle. “What do you mean?”
“He froze and became unresponsive. Then he asked if we had met before.”
“And have you?”
“...No.”
It will make no difference if it was the truth or not with the way they are now.
Wen Qing lets out a sigh, shaking her head to herself. “I don't think he's been sleeping well these days. I'm worried about him.”
She takes another sip of her drink, giving Wangji a polite smile afterwards. “I'm sorry. I just thought that maybe something happened during your date. He hasn't been his usual self recently.”
Wangji nods. He hates that he envies her; not because she is closer to this Wei Ying than he is, but because she has seen a side to him that he has not yet.
“Has he told you anything about himself?” she asks.
Wangji narrows his eyes. He recalls what Wei Ying last said to him.
“A bit.”
Wen Qing motions for him to carry on. “As in...?”
“He blames himself for the death of his adopted parents, and his sister being in hospital.”
It is eerily similar to what happened back then, but those events had not been Wei Ying's fault either. He has always been someone who takes on the burden of his loved ones too much. Wangji fears the same thing is happening now. He does not want to lose Wei Ying to himself again.
Wen Qing stares down at her hands. “None of that was his fault. It's not my place to say what happened... but whatever he told you... None of it... None of it has ever been his fault.”
“I know,” Wangji says. He has always known that.
“You seem like you're a good guy. Listen, I'm—”
Her words are cut off as the café door opens. She stops, tilting her head to one side. Wangji follows the direction of her gaze, frowning at who walks in.
It is two people, but it is the taller figure that catches his attention.
Whoever they are, they look exactly like Wei Ying—perhaps not exactly a mirror image, yet it is enough that Wangji has to make sure it is actually not him. This person is shorter, younger, and his hair is longer than Wei Ying's now. It is tied back into a messy bun—even his hair sticks up in random places, just like Wei Ying's does.
Who is he? If Wei Ying was not here now, Wangji would have mistaken this person for an incarnation of him.
The person beside him is a bit shorter. It is difficult to see his face because his thick scarf is obscuring the bottom half, while his large black sunglasses hide his eyes. It does not help he is even wearing a beret.
“I thought that was Wei Ying for a minute,” Wen Qing mumbles.
Wangji nods at her. He continues to watch the pair walk towards the counter.
“Xuanyu, I want a latte,” the smaller man says.
The Wei Ying imposter pouts at his companion. “Wait, I'm ordering? But, Brother, you're the one with the money!”
His brother, by the looks of it, sighs. “I'll pay, but you order.”
That seems to please the imposter. He turns to Wen Ning, who is waiting patiently by the counter. As soon as he sees him, the Wei Ying imposter freezes. Wangji can see his cheeks flushing even from where he is sitting.
He does not do anything. His sudden silence has caused Wen Ning to fidget more than usual, his skittish eyes flickering everywhere but the man in front of him.
“Xuanyu,” the brother calls, raising his voice.
Wangji cannot help but feel he has heard that voice before.
The Wei Ying imposter, or Xuanyu as he is called, does not stir. He wobbles a bit on his feet.
“...He's cute,” he mumbles while still staring at Wen Ning.
Wen Qing turns her chair even more to face the pair. By now, Wen Ning is resembling a human tomato.
Then again, this Xuanyu is the same too. His hands fly to his mouth and he turns to his brother in horror.
“Shit, did I say that out loud?”
“Yes, Xuanyu, you did.”
All of a sudden, the strange imposter spins around and quite literally runs out of the café.
Wangji is not really sure what just happened. Everyone in the café has gone silent, staring at the swaying door. Xuanyu's brother lets out another loud sigh and shakes his head to himself. He approaches Wen Ning's counter and pushes some money onto the table, not sparing a glance at how much he has placed.
“Just a latte, please,” he says. “Keep the change.”
The only reason Wangji is still observing this man is because his voice is something he knows he has heard before. After he collects his coffee, he finally turns to leave. It is still impossible to see his face properly, which is only more frustrating now that Wangji wishes to match it with the voice.
However, his frustrations are cut short when the stranger walks past their table. He freezes on the spot, head jerking towards Wangji's direction. Wangji sees his hand clenching the coffee cup he is holding, his fingers shaking ever so slightly.
With his free hand, he takes off his sunglasses. His eyes are wide, a shade of brown that is so vibrant they almost look golden.
It's then that Wangji sees who this man is, or who he used to be. He sees him wearing a black felt hat that he is rarely seen without. He sees the red vermilion mark that used to be painted between his brows. He sees the golden robes, that proud white peony motif on the chest. He sees a sect leader who has manipulated his way to get where he is. He sees Xichen defending him again and again, insisting only he knows his true character when, really, he was the one who knew him the least.
He sees Jin Guangyao.
Wangji's fists clench.
Jin Guangyao's gaze flickers down. His chest rises as he takes one breath, and then he is walking out of the café. Even as he leaves, Wangji watches his back disappearing off into the streets. He has never trusted Jin Guangyao. He is not sure what to make of the fact he is here as well.
“Huh, that was weird,” Wen Qing says after a while. “Did you know him or something?”
Wangji is still frowning.
“No,” he says.
“Strange. He looked like he knew you.”
That is what is making Wangji uneasy. He is not sure if he was imagining it, but there was recognition in Jin Guangyao's eyes. He had stopped because he saw Wangji.
But why? How?
Wangji cannot think. That feeling of uneasiness he has been having all day has returned. It is impossible to ignore now. There is something stirring in the air, and for once, he does not know what to do.
- x -
Jin Zixuan doesn't usually fiddle but being in this hospital makes it impossible for him to sit still. The white walls around him have all began to blur into one headache, and still he continues to wait because it's all he can do. He should be used to the waiting by now. He's spent countless days and nights, years, staring at these same white walls, praying for a miracle. He should be used to this.
Gently, he takes Yanli's hand into his. It's always been cold, but he hates how he notices it's colder than usual. Limp. Pale. He wishes it was only his imagination. If he tries to warm her hands, it will only wake her up.
He sits still, clutching onto her, wishing he can do more.
A weak cough has him jolting up. He squeezes Yanli's hand tighter, watching her eyelashes flutter open. Her lips are dry and she struggles to lick them, to speak. She is barely audible when she finally manages to get some words out.
“How is... How is A-Ling...”
Zixuan swallows the lump in his throat. “He's fine. Don't strain yourself. Rest.”
Stubborn as ever, she doesn't listen to him. Her hand shakes, almost as if she is trying to squeeze his back.
“Y-You said he's... he started—”
She stops as coughs wreck through her entire body. Yanli snatches her hand back to clutch her chest, hacking and choking. Her entire body is trembling and every cough she lets out worries Zixuan. He's scared because he doesn't know what to do, what he can do. All he does is rush to his feet and rub her back, knowing it's useless, he's useless.
It feels like forever until she finally stops. She's panting for breath and her eyelids are beginning to close again. Zixuan sits back down and squeezes her hands. He's shaking much more than she is now.
“I said rest,” he tells her. “I'll tell you everything when you're well.”
When you're well. He says that all the time. He waits for the day he can walk out of this hospital with her beside him, squeezing his hand as tightly as he's squeezing hers now. It's all he wants in the world and he's willing to wait as long as he can for her.
He's waited so long already. He's done so much—but is it enough? He moved her to one of the best hospitals in America, travelling across the world every month just so he could juggle both his business and his wife's health. There's only so much his money and time can do. Zixuan hates not knowing if it's enough. How can it not be enough?
As he looks down at his wife, he prays to whatever is up there watching them that they will give her back to him. He has given all that he can... He will continue to throw as much money, whatever he has left, in order to get his family back together. Not just for himself, not just for Yanli, but also for Jin Ling who has never known what it's like to live in a house with both of his parents.
He doesn't know how long he sits there, holding her hand. Yanli has fallen back asleep ages ago. At the very least, her slumber is peaceful. If it weren't for the fact she is pale and sickly, you would have mistaken her to just be sleeping back at home, where she belongs.
For now, he's fine sleeping by her side like this. Zixuan lays his head on the side of her bed, not once letting go.
His phone vibrates in his pocket. His brows furrow together, irritated, and he sneaks a peek in his pocket to see who is calling him when it's almost midnight.
Jin Ling.
The irritation he's feeling is gone in seconds. Yawning, he reluctantly lets go of Yanli. Before he leaves, he kisses her on the forehead and then makes his way out of the ward. It must be broad daylight back in China.
As soon as he's out of the ward, he takes his phone out and groans internally. Jin Ling isn't only calling him; he's actually trying to video call him. Zixuan always finds it harder to fake his expressions to his son. Jin Ling is still young and gullible, yes, but it doesn't make it any less harder.
It makes him feel worse.
Regardless, he can't deny his son's call. He forces a smile on his face before answering it.
Jin Ling pops up on the screen. Beside him, Zixuan can just make out Fairy's ear.
“Dad!” Jin Ling calls, grinning.
“A-Ling, you sound like you're in a good mood. Where are you?”
Zixuan doesn't recognise the place he's in. Usually when he's calling, he'll either be at Jiang Cheng's apartment or Meng Yao's house. The place behind him looks like... a library? Zixuan sees a few shelves... Jin Ling would never willingly go to a library unless he really needed to.
“I'm at this library. I just finished a three thousand word essay, Dad.”
Suddenly, he's pushed out of the camera. Jiang Cheng's scowling face comes into view.
“Bullshit. He made us do most of the work.”
“Uncle! Get out the way! I'm calling Dad!”
Zixuan watches as the screen shakes; most likely Jin Ling snatching the phone back from Jiang Cheng.
“They helped! I still wrote the whole thing!” he says once he's back on screen.
Jiang Cheng's voice is still heard. “You typed. Xichen told you what to write.”
Jin Ling rolls his eyes. In the background, Zixuan hears laughter that doesn't sound like it belongs to either Jiang Cheng or his son. And who is this Xichen person? Why has he never heard Jin Ling mention him before?
He clenches his jaw, forcing out another smile. He hates not knowing what his own son is up to.
“How is your new school? How have you been, A-Ling?” he asks, desperation leaking into his voice. Jin Ling won't notice anyway.
His son rambles on about school. He tells Zixuan he has made two friends called Sizhui and Jingyi, but then proceeds to deny it because one of them is apparently there at the library as well. For a few seconds, he rants about having Wei Ying as a teacher too, but thankfully drops that topic quickly.
He's talking so quick, as if he wants to fit everything and anything into this call. It eases Zixuan's worries a bit. No matter how far away his son is, he's always eager to try and close the distance between them.
Jin Ling deserves better than this.
“How's Mom? Is she awake?” Jin Ling asks afterwards. “Can I talk to her too?”
The smile on Zixuan's face twitches. He doesn't know how he can still fake it. “She's just asleep right now. You called at a bad time. It's midnight, A-Ling.”
“Aaw, oops,” Jin Ling says. “I keep forgetting time zone differences! Is she alright though?”
Deep breath. “Yes, she's fine. Don't worry.”
Jin Ling nods. He looks like he wants to say more but he stops himself. “Okay, I should go then. Get some rest too, Dad!”
“I will.”
“I... I miss you two. I hope I can see both of you soon.”
The hope in Jin Ling's eyes may as well be an arrow that tears through his chest. No matter how many times Zixuan swallows the lump in his throat, it's still there.
“Goodbye, A-Ling,” is all he can choke out. “Be a good boy, okay?”
Jin Ling huffs. “I always am!”
With that, he hangs up. Zixuan can finally shudder out a breath.
His eyes are stinging. He refuses to cry. He refuses to be weak. He needs to be strong for his wife and his son. It's the only thing he can do.
Be strong. Do as much as you can. Lie. Pretend everything is okay.
It's not lying, he wants to say. It's not lying because Yanli will be okay. She'll recover and learn how to walk again. She'll get out of this hospital and they'll return to China where they can be the family they should have been twelve years ago. Everything will finally fall into place.
He walks back to the ward. Everything will fall into place. Everything will fall into place.
Yet, every step he takes feels like this whole limbo Yanli is stuck in will eventually crumble away. He grasps her hand again, afraid that if he squeezes too tight then she'll shatter before his very eyes.
He isn't lying to Jin Ling. Yanli will be okay.
Jin Ling doesn't need to know what the doctor has told him. Jin Ling doesn't need to know she's contracted pneumonia, that she's deteriorating. Jin Ling doesn't need to feel that sickening lurch in his stomach that Zixuan felt, when the doctor told him Yanli's body may not be able to handle it if she continues at this rate. Jin Ling doesn't need to spend every day, every night praying for a miracle.
Yanli is going to recover. She won't leave them. She can't leave them.
Shaking, Zixuan tightens his hands around hers. His eyes are wet. Still, even in the darkness of that ward, he refuses to let out any tears.
All he can do is hold his wife's hand.
“Don't leave me, A-Li,” he says. He begs.