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Chapter Text

Marriage was supposed to be filled with happiness. Loyalty and love that over-last even the worst arguments. That was what Mu Qing thought it should be from watching his two mothers. Both women loved each other to an almost obsessive level. They knew nearly everything about each other. So far, Mu Qing had a happy childhood where his mothers doted on him even when he went through his grumpy teenage phase that did not seem to end but was blunted by maturity, as he grew up to be an adult. Watching his mothers continue to be each other’s pillars of comfort through thick and thin; even in the face of homophobes, they never gave up the fight for their love; Mu Qing had desired a marriage just as fulfilling as theirs.

But he should have known that his witchy grandmother sometimes did make some valid, albeit fucked up, life wisdom. One of her truly dementia-ridden rambles had gone along the following words: “Don’t laugh too much, surely you will cry just as much!” and it had precipitated in the form of cancer plaguing one of his mothers.

Life after that turned sour. Mu Qing and his other mother’s seamstress jobs were not enough to cobble together a living that sustained his post-graduate degree studies and her medical bills. Insurance was not enough to cover those expensive treatments and medicines. The grief was clearly taking a toll on his seamstress mother even though the doctors told him to keep hope up.

So, when a family came up with a marriage proposal with the side-effect of paying for their medical insurance as a “wedding gift ” Mu Qing could not say no. Even his mothers did not put up the expected barrage of fights.

“You’re getting married.” When Xie Lian was mad or trying to wrap his head around an outlandish situation or thought he enunciated every word, his consonants sharp and vowels rounded. “And you thought you’d tell me two days before the ceremony?”

Shi Qingxuan was strangely quiet and that meant trouble. Mu Qing was already fucking this up more than he was supposed to. “Not that it was meant to be a secret or anything,” he grumps. “It was just…last minute.”

“Were you really that desperate for money? You could have asked me.” When Shi Qingxuan finally does speak the accusing sting threaded into her words almost cut Mu Qing deep.

But he held fast and prepared his argument but Xie Lian interrupted, “A-Xuan, you know Qing-er. He’s a grown man , I’m sure he can make choices for himself.” One of his hands reaches over to cover their cousin’s hand.

She links their fingers and shoots a teary glare at Mu Qing until he glides closer with awkward shuffles of his thighs to link his hand with her free one. She was wearing her “boy clothes” that she mostly stole from her past partners with their queerphobic Uncle—Xie Lian’s uncle really but whatever—in the same building. It looked rather odd on her as Mu Qing was used to seeing the pastel, feminine clothes donned by Shi Qingxuan. No arguments poured out of her lips even though Shi Qingxuan’s lips trembled.

“Idiot,” she chided . “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“Mom got her bills paid and she’s finally on the bend for better. Both of them are happy.” Mu Qing gives a tiny smile that falls almost flat. “I can just get divorced when Mom is finally recovered. About three months now since it’s the first stage…”

Xie Lian frowns. “Does your soon-to-be-husband know of your plans?”

“Yes.”

“What?” This time, both his cousins stare at him with disbelief. They have indeed spent too much time together, looking like each other and all that .

As Shi Qingxuan’s nails dig into his skin, Mu Qing recounts the day he first met Feng Xin.

Feng Xin was gorgeous in a way Mu Qing rarely finds people. But his eyes held the seriousness of a soldier walking into a minefield, leaving behind their comrades’ dead bodies in their quest to surrender to the enemy. It was what his mother’s eyes held when she first learnt of her first-stage cancer.

“Mu Qing?” he asked.

“Yes. You must be my betrothed?”

“Hm. My parents told you everything, then?”

“We’re to be married in the next week. I’ll move in with you and help you with your job. The dowry would be the medical bills being paid and help with the debt.”

“Yes.” An awkwardness prevented Feng Xin from meeting his eyes but the tension on his shoulders remained. “There’s, um, another thing too.”

“What?”

They were in the hospital lobby and a nurse passing by gave Mu Qing a withering look at his loud voice. With a stab of guilt only women in certain fields of life would invoke, Mu Qing grumbled the question at Feng Xin again, quieter. Something like amusement curled into the twitch of Feng Xin’s lips that Mu Qing glared at.

“You, um, will have to excuse me for not being able to do—” Feng Xin coughs, “—a husband’s duty.”

Mu Qing’s face flushes but he buries his indignation under a thick glare. Did he look like someone who’d jump someone’s bones just because they were married? What sort of brute did he think Mu Qing was ? “This is a marriage of convenience. I don’t care about filial duties. After my mom is better, we’re getting a divorce.”

Relief floods Feng Xin’s shoulders, slumping them down as he curls into himself. “OK, good. I’ll, uh, see you soon.”

As the man retreated down the hallway and disappeared behind one of the walls, Mu Qing felt something like loneliness and shame curling inside him. But he put away those emotions—unwanted as they were —deep behind his heart when his mother appeared with an empty tea flask.

Mu Qing had not expected his first marriage to be a short-term agreement but it seemed like the choice was not on the horizon for him.

There were a handful of things that Mu Qing was fond of in this world. His mothers, his café barista job, his cousins, and the TV shows that he indulged in. Of all of them, his cousins stood second only to his mothers. They were everything to him the people in his schools and colleges could never be. Friends, family and secondary home. Now, at the lowest point of his life, his cousins came to keep him from falling down.

“Here, have some tea,” Shi Qingxuan said, nudging a cup of coffee under his nose. “It won’t do you good to look like a ghost at your wedding tomorrow.”

“I already look like a ghost most days,” Mu Qing grumbles as he accepts the coffee without questioning where she could have gotten it from .

Xie Lian, clearly having been dragged by their ambitious cousin, had plopped into his balcony first and then hauled Shi Qingxuan in too exactly twenty minutes back. They quickly managed to lay themselves onto Mu Qing’s bed without a preamble. Shi Qingxuan was quick to rest her head on his shoulder before offering the coffee cup Mu Qing had definitely not seen on her person before then. Xie Lian opted to spread himself on Mu Qing’s legs. Bony knees poking that machoistic dumbass’ stomach probably painfully.   

“But it’s your wedding,” Xie Lian said, pouting at him before ruining it with a wince as he rolled off his knees to rest starfish himself next to Mu Qing, linking their hands on the way .

“Hm. A wedding I don’t want. I told you—”

“You’re getting a divorce after your mom heals,” the two chorus, sharing grins at their success in syncing before glaring at him together. Too much time together, these two.

“Seriously though,” Shi Qingxuan argues and Mu Qing drinks the last dregs of coffee before she takes away that happiness too. “Mu Qing, I won’t take your coffee!”

“A-Jie, please. We both know you would.” He rolls his eyes. “Can we just sleep? I’m bone tired and we need to be up early to go to the church. For the ceremony.”

“Wait. You picked a suit, right? It’s not black with a red tie?” Shi Qingxuan looks disgusted at the thought of something so basic. “Are you wearing a veil?”

“No, Jie , I am not wearing a veil.” Xie Lian squeezes his hand in pity but does not offer any help. That devil has an amused look on his face. No wonder Hua Cheng and him are still together from their high school sweetheart days. “I picked a grey suit because Feng Xin will be wearing black. I’d rather not match.”

“Grey will suit your silver streaks,” she says with approval. “Good boy.”

“Hm. You’re wearing a dress tomorrow? Don’t forget the ring…actually, it would be fun to see Feng’s face if you showed up with no ring.” Mu Qing snickers.

“I will not forget your ring,” she assures, knocking their heads together gently. “Don’t bully your fiancé, Mu Qing. He sounded nice when we met him yesterday…”

“Nice, my ass. He loves arguing with me. When we were picking food for Mom, he argued with me for an hour before we settled on some plain congee; he’d been arguing about how I should get her soup even though I made it clear she couldn’t taste them. That man is fucking stubborn.”

“You already had a couple’s fight? Aw that’s so—”

“Don’t go there, Xie Lian,” Mu Qing warns. The two fall quiet, exchanging weary glances. Before he could apologise, he cuts Xie Lian off. “I’m sorry. It’s just…”

“We get it, Qing-er.” Shi Qingxuan kisses his temple. “You know we’ll bug you every day in Shanghai, right?”

“Hm, I know. You got jobs there, right?”

“San Lang’s company has a branch there, so we’re moving there. Qingxuan has her design internship. It’s like destiny. A not-so-good one for your side, Mu Qing, but hey, at least we’re all in the same city.”

“Hm, yeah.” Mu Qing groans. “I wish I could have told you more before. But I’m so tired. You’re staying for sleep?”

“Yes.” The other two choruses and the cup of coffee are placed on the bedside table before the two snuggle beside him.

That night Mu Qing slept better than all the nights before he became an adult. Sandwiched between the two people he treasured.

On the third day of June, Mu Qing was to be married. In less than a couple hours he would be part of a new family; no matter how much either party hated it. There is a strange sort of irony that their loveless-but-gay wedding happens on the month celebrating the love of queer people.

It was strange but Mu Qing could only let that thought linger on his mind for a fleeting second before Xie Lian and Shi Qingxuan crowded into his thoughts with different questions about how they looked, placements of witnesses and family members (just both groom’s parents and their siblings; Xie Lian and Shi Qingxuan was Mu Qing’s siblings. Feng Xin had an older brother who had turned up with the sweetest woman at his arm), fussing on behalf of Mu Qing’s numb mind over his suit and tiny brocade of baby’s breath pinned to his pocket. There wasn’t even a ceremony but Mu Qing couldn’t begrudge his siblings the excitement of marrying his fated-to-doom marriage. Both of them love festivities unlike Mu Qing.

Before he knew it, Xie Lian and Shi Qingxuan’s figures were replaced by his mothers’. They had tears crowding their waterline as they hugged him tight and whispered apologies that blurred with well-wishes. The two of them had come to Shanghai for the ceremony and would fly back tonight with Xie Lian for company. Mu Qing already missed them.

“You did so much for us, Qingqing,” Mom says, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’m sorry I couldn’t—”

“Not your fault. This is my choice,” Mu Qing cuts her off with a hopefully not-hollow assurance. “You just heal well for me, okay?”

“Thank you, love.” Pressing another kiss to his cheek, she takes her wife’s arm and wobbles out in slower steps . The medicines and chemotherapy had robbed her hair but they were coming back under the wig. Mu Qing knew his mother loved to braid the fake hair and today it was styled into a bun with baby’s breath haloing it. Mother was wearing a suit, unlike her wife, her adoring stare not flinching even at Mom’s lack of good health. Absently he wondered if Feng Xin would one day hold his hands even when they were both shrivelled husks of men.

What a funny thought. Mu Qing shakes his head off the thoughts as he fixes his suit one last time and fastens the cross earring on his left ear before he calls Shi Qingxuan to let her come and get him.

The walk to the register’s office is slightly blurry. But once Mu Qing enters the room, he becomes quickly aware of everything. It was almost too much. His eyes catch Shi Qingxuan’s and take strength from her brave smile even as her eyes are lined with tears. Out of respect or her own idea of fashion, she’s wearing a black gown to match his mother’s suit. Xie Lian wearing a red suit to match both his boyfriend’s obnoxiously long coat and Mu Qing’s Mom’s dress. Mu Qing takes in every one of them. Even Hua Cheng’s infuriatingly blank face tilts into a smirk as his eye flits between Feng Xin and Mu Qing. His mom is already sniffling into his mother’s shoulder, one hand holding Xie Lian’s.

Before his heart decides to break any further, Mu Qing looks to the second family gathered here. Feng Xin’s parents look as if this is a business meeting (it is. Kind of. This was a business deal after all. Mu Qing’s assistance in helping their son with the family business in exchange for money for his mom’s treatment and help with their debts) in their matching black suits. Feng Xin’s brother, Feng Xian, smiles at him when their eyes meet. His girlfriend gives him a thumbs-up too. It almost makes him smile. At least, Mu Qing will have supportive sibling-in-laws. Or so he hopes. 

There was not much else to look at, other than the wrinkly old Chinese woman behind the registrar’s desk who looked ready to fall asleep any moment before Mu Qing’s eyes inevitably fell on Feng Xin. Shi Qingxuan had brought him to stand beside the man by then. As she stands back, Mu Qing gives a curt nod of greeting that Feng Xin returns with a brittle smile. The woman rises and starts with the standard vows. Mu Qing almost stumbles over his “I do” but Feng Xin’s hand over his tightens just a bit, perhaps in warning, so he glares through it. If the smile curling at the edge of Feng Xin’s lips is any indication, he finds Mu Qing’s irritation funny. Bastard.

“You may kiss the br—ahem—groom,” the woman says, giving Mu Qing a pointed look.

Not wanting to look recalcitrant or like a prude, he leans closer to kiss Feng Xin’s lips gently . No doubt that this would be their first and last kiss. To his surprise his now-husband kisses Mu Qing back but it is light and he pulls back immediately. Something like disappointment curls in his chest but Mu Qing firmly pushes that idea away. Feng Xin doesn’t meet his eyes as they sign the certificate and register, the new silver ring with Mu Qing’s name engraved in it glinting at Mu Qing almost mockingly. The matching ring, with his husband’s name, on his finger weighs him down.

“Congratulations, you’re husbands.” The woman hands them their certificates with a wistful smile. “I wish you goodwill.”

“Thank you,” Feng Xin mutters with a charming smile that falls flat when he turns to Mu Qing with his arm held out. Mu Qing does not take it, choosing to walk with his family.

When they reach outside, he realises that this is goodbye. He would be living with Feng Xin from tonight onwards; making a home in an unfamiliar city while his parents were in Hong Kong. Mu Qing of Shanghai would have learnt about all his duties and would be a master of pretence.

His family hugs him one by one, his mother’s embrace lasting the longest. Shi Qingxuan presses a kiss on his neck teasingly and Hua Cheng shakes his hand, which is as big as a hug from that man. Out of all the things, it’s this that brings Mu Qing to almost tears. Xie Lian’s smile is wide and sad as he leans against Hua Cheng for a moment before he herds them all into his boyfriend’s car to drive away. He knew they would go to Hua Cheng’s place first and then to the airport. Almost moved to run after them and beg them to take Mu Qing with them, back home. But he stayed rooted.

“Welcome to the family, A-Qing,” Feng Xian says, patting his shoulder as his girlfriend holds onto Mu Qing’s arm. “Let’s have some dinner together, alright?” He directs this at Feng Xin who reluctantly nods. He has not yet looked at Mu Qing.

“We count on you to distract Xin-er from his work, okay? All he thinks is about work some days,” Ji Mian, the girlfriend, says, tutting Feng Xin disapprovingly. “Teach him a bit about life.”

“Life in the corporate isn’t easy, Jie .” A sigh escapes Feng Xin but his smile is gentle. “I—”

“I can’t promise you that,” Mu Qing answers, not looking at his husband but he can feel the glare on the side of his head. Feng Xin hates being cut off, he’d learnt. “But I’ll try.”

Feng Xian nods seriously as he leans in to whisper. “Don’t mind our parents, okay? You tell me anything if it troubles you, yes? Feng Xin can be a bit of an asshole…”

Despite himself, Mu Qing chuckles and glances at his husband’s face in the middle of rolling his eyes skyward. “Fine. But I’m not a weak maiden. No offence, Mian- jie —”

“—none taken. I can kick balls too .”

“Hm, she can. Never anger her.” Mu Qing is jealous of the open adoration on his face as he looks at his girlfriend. Feng Xian looks at him and smiles. “Have fun.”

“Thank you.”

“Go before Dad and Mom start shooting literal bullets instead of staring knives at you,” Feng Xin nudges. He hugs his brother and his girlfriend, stands back as Mu Qing is bestowed the same treatment, and watches the quartet get into a car and drive away. Another car rolls into the pavement and Feng Xin opens the backdoor for Mu Qing before sliding in after him.

“What do you say about take-out for dinner?”

“I’m deciding the menu.”

“Hm.” Feng Xin stares out the window and Mu Qing pretends his stomach isn’t in knots as the car is put into drive.

Chapter Text

Feng Xin’s flat is surprisingly humble for someone belonging to a well-doing corporate business. It is located in a posh neighbourhood, though. Everything is unnecessarily large around there. The foyer has a shoe stand with slippers on the bottom row and houses two snake plants in small pots on the wooden top cover of it, Mu Qing can’t help but smile at the cat prints on the vases. It had two bedrooms, wooden floorboards, spacious walls and a sweet kitchen that’s just the right amount of big with plenty of cupboards and shelves. The TV is big but not obnoxiously so and the stand doubles as a bookshelf that contains some fiction amongst business/economic copies. Two cactuses bracket the edges of the stand. Opposite that is a very comfy sofa that Mu Qing, with mild amusement, thinks will suit Feng Xin if he were to banish him from the room.

Wait…will they be sleeping in the same bed? The thought sends an electric spark up his spine as he sinks into the sofa. Feng Xin is placing Mu Qing’s bags, which had been sent for that morning, in a room and he figures he’ll learn about sleeping arrangements soon enough.

When his husband takes more than needed, Mu Qing starts to rise but freezes when he feels something brush against his legs. Holding his breath as he leans down to see, Mu Qing is astonished to find two ocean-blue, slitted eyes staring right back at him. A pair of twitching years swivel towards him. It mews.

“You have a cat,” Mu Qing states.

“Yes, I do. Her name is Lotus.” Feng Xin had materialised sometime between Mu Qing realising that Feng Xin owns a fucking cat and that said feline is the cutest thing he has ever seen in his life. Pink nose and blue eyes contrast beautifully with her black and white coat. She jumps onto Mu Qing’s lap and he tentatively strokes her back, grinning when she purrs before nudging his chin. “She’s more loving than her mother.”

“Mother?”

“She’s dead. I had rescued her from the street when she was pregnant. Only Lotus survived after the birth,” Feng Xin explains as he sits beside Mu Qing and reaches to scratch the cat’s chin, his fingers careful to not touch Mu Qing even accidentally. “Passed away a year after.”

Damn Feng Xin for not only being attractive but also sporting a kind heart. Mu Qing could scream out loud if he wasn’t afraid of driving away Lotus from his lap. Currently, she was occupied with rolling around as Mu Qing played with her paws. Toe-beans, pink, good.

“Lotus,” Mu Qing murmurs adoringly. “She’s adorable.”

“You can get a pet if you want,” Feng Xin says.

“No. It would be hard to separate those two when we divorce.”

“Hm. Point. Do you want to change? It’s not easy to get out cat fur from a suit.”

“Ah, fuck.” Mu Qing grimaces at the visible white fur on his sleeves and coat. He hopes Feng Xin has a lint roller. Probably does, considering he probably has a million similar-looking suits in his closet. He gets off the couch and gently puts Lotus down. She mewls sadly and Mu Qing shushes her with a bop to her nose. “Be right back, young lady.”

When he straightens up, Feng Xin is looking at him with a strange look that quickly settles into a blank face. He’s changed into a comfortable-looking t-shirt and sweatpants. “Am I staying in the extra room?”

“No. We’re married, I figured we could share a bed.”

Mu Qing raises a brow as his lips curl into a small sneer. “I thought you did not want to fuck me?”

Feng Xin doesn’t twitch at his language, rolling his shoulder in a languid shrug. “No. Sharing a bed doesn’t mean we have to…fuck.” The raised brow accuses Mu Qing of thinking dirty.

Blushing, he pushes past his infuriating husband with a scoff. Feng Xin’s bedroom is easy to find because the door is opened to reveal a room that is slightly tousled, but not messy, with a queer bed opposite the dresser and mirror. His luggage, unpacked, lays in a corner near the door. There is a floor-to-ceiling length sliding window that leads out to the balcony looking to the local park. He can hear the faint clamour of children coming from outside holding hands with the sunlight slithering through the gap.

Mu Qing closes the door and opens his suitcase containing his clothes on the bed to take out a pair of pyjamas. It is near dinner time and he still has dibs on ordering takeout. Absently he wonders if Lotus gets high-quality cat food or if she too stooped to the pretence of being a commoner. Just as he pulls down his hoodie, the door opens to reveal a hand holding a takeout menu.

“Choose what you want,” Feng Xin’s voice wobbles through the wood and Mu Qing rolls his eyes before he opens the door fully. His husband almost falls through but rights himself with a blush. Their eyes don’t meet as Feng Xin determinedly stares at Lotus purring in his arms.

“Thanks.” Mu Qing takes it and scans the menu. The restaurant is a fusion of Indian and Chinese. He quickly makes the decision to get spicey noodles, Shi Qingxuan’s favourite even though Xie Lian preferred the savoury Indian flavours. He tells Feng Xin the order but before the man can turn and go, Mu Qing asks, “Is Lotus allowed into the room?” He refuses to call it their room.

“I can’t keep her out even if I try,” Feng Xin replies, smiling fondly at the cat. Mu Qing feels something inside him ache a bit as he closes the door behind him. They walk back to the living room as Feng Xin calls the restaurant, handing Lotus to him before he decides to take a deviation into the kitchen. Lotus accompanies Mu Qing in the living room and he is surprised to find a small black section of her fur on her tummy when she rolls onto her back with a loud purr. It looks vaguely like a lotus and Mu Qing snorts at the realisation that this must be why she’s named that. How cute.

“Here.” Feng Xin says as he reappears and hands Mu Qing tea. “It’s chamomile. Xie Lian told me you don’t sleep well in strange places.”

That bastard. Gritting his teeth against a snapping comment, Mu Qing nods in thanks and lets Lotus walk away from him to curl against Feng Xin. For a few minutes, silence settles disrupted only by the soft murmuring between cat and human. Mu Qing finds himself relaxing. Maybe he could make himself a temporary home but he misses his mothers, and his cousins. The old family life. He had to quit his old job and that only made him feel less in control of his own life. Though Feng Xin isn’t terrible doesn’t mean others in his company have to be good too, if his parents were any indication. He sure hopes they don’t come into this flat or that Mu Qing will have to entertain any such stuck-ups.

As he debates the pros and cons of switching the TV on to play crappy television, the doorbell rings. He rises to get it and waves Feng Xin down when he starts to move. Mu Qing thanks the delivery person as he gives him a tip. There are plates and chopsticks set out for them on the dining table when Mu Qing returns.

“Did you feed Lotus?” he asks as he starts taking out the noodles and side dishes from its plastic prison. Feng Xin was bending over the corner of the kitchen, near the sink with Lotus crowding at his feet making eager noises. Mu Qing just asked to annoy Feng Xin. Surely enough he received a glare that stoked his amusement. The cat food is indeed high-grade, he notices. Mu Qing doesn’t think he would forgive Feng Xin if he gave Lotus anything less.

“Eat before it gets cold,” Mu Qing mutters as he sets his half-cold tea next to his plate. He doesn’t wait for Feng Xin to come over before he starts to shovel the food. After that late-night coffee with his cousins last night, Mu Qing refused to eat or drink anything other than water. He was hungry now that most of his nerves had decided to stop plaguing him.

“I have a Zoom meeting tomorrow,” Feng Xin says as he settles opposite Mu Qing. Their feet brush for a moment before Mu Qing snags his back with a frown.

“It’s a Sunday.”

“Yes. The company is from the US. I’ll be in the room if you need anything you can call my brother. He lives nearby.”

“I think I can figure out how this house works, thanks.” Mu Qing looks at the fridge pointedly, though. “Is that stocked?”

A thoughtful frown appears on Feng Xin’s face. “I did go shopping before the ceremony. See if you need anything else. There’s a supermarket two blocks down if you need to buy anything.”

“Do you have any house help?”

“Do we need house help to keep this place running?”

“No. I just expected all rich people to not do menial, commoner things.”

Distaste curled Feng Xin’s lips. “Not all rich people. Now you know.”

Mu Qing shrugs. “I suppose. You’ll have lunch?”

“I suppose yes.” Feng Xin narrows his eyes in suspicion. “You’re not going to cook for me and poison me, are you? I haven’t written you into my will, yet.”

Yet. Interesting. “No.” He rolls his eyes and kicks Feng Xin’s shin not-so-gently. “Shithead. I will cook lunch but I won’t poison you. Yet.” Pausing, he thinks about Xie Lian and his face falls into a grimace. “Don’t eat anything Xie Lian makes. He will kill you even if he didn’t mean to. Only Hua Cheng can stomach his food.”

Feng Xin outright laughs. It’s a bright sound that makes this flat just a bit homelier and loved. As if this space had folded in Mu Qing right along with Feng Xin and given him a space to call his own. A knot in his chest eases just a bit as he lets Feng Xin’s laughter wash over him. It’s halting as if he doesn’t know if he should laugh or not but Mu Qing listens nonetheless. Can’t stop staring at the way Feng Xin’s eyes crinkle and a flush brightens his nose adorably.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Your cousins seem…interesting.”

“They are.”

“Hm.” Feng Xin goes back to eating once his mirth is kept in check even though he randomly stops to smile at Mu Qing’s direction. Lotus, having done with her dinner, plods over the kitchen floor until she sniffs out Mu Qing’s feet to curl against, distracting him.

“Anything I need to do for tomorrow’s meeting?”

Something complicated happens over Feng Xin’s face but he seems to come to a decision to not cross that bridge as he shakes his head. “No, thanks. Learn how to navigate the neighbourhood and make yourself home. Then we will see.”

“Fine.”

The time for bed comes soon. With a beating heart that Mu Qing hopes does not show on his face, he settles into the bed with Lotus at his feet as he watches Feng Xin rummage around the dresser. Instead of lying down next to Mu Qing, his husband excuses himself with work before he shuts the door behind him quietly.

Mu Qing lies in silence for a long time as he tries to get his bearings right. but he can only find in himself to scoff and call Feng Xin an arrogant ass as he fights against the rising disappointment. He clucks at the cat until she slithers over to curl against his chest. It’s her light breaths and purrs that finally put him to sleep.

When he wakes up at somewhere around three in the morning, Feng Xin’s back greets him. Mu Qing wonders if he could reach over and press against the man’s body and hear his heartbeat. A testament, a final hope, that this marriage wasn’t a complete mission to fail. Perhaps, in the deep recesses of his mind, he still hoped that his childhood dream of a loving first marriage could still be kept. The sleep-addled, shameless mind points out that they haven’t consummated their marriage yet but that thought is easy to push away. Mu Qing told himself to grow up and turned away too, Lotus hissing at the lack of warmth.

It was as his eyes started falling heavily when Mu Qing realised that he had forgotten to call his mothers or his cousins. Was this his new life? Empty of any traces from his past one?

Mu Qing cooks them lunch. It goes about as well as he’d expected.

With his husband in a meeting, sitting in his study which was just a big once-closet converted for such purposes, at the end of the hallway, Mu Qing was left to entertain Lotus and watch mind-numbing television. There was that tempting offer to go out and explore but Mu Qing hoped Feng Xin would be there with him. After all, he didn’t want to be scolded for being crass with one of the snobby rich neighbours. Mu Qing would give it a few days.

Perhaps, Shi Qingxuan could drop by sometime. Or Xie Lian could hang out with him, and help him redecorate some of Feng Xin’s poorer choices of the interior; Mu Qing was thinking of adding the few wedding photos Hua Cheng had clicked for them just to piss off Feng Xin. But that would summon his annoying ass partner too. Hua Cheng was someone he didn’t hate per se but annoyed him to the extremes. Without Xie Lian to act as a buffer, the room quickly turned chilly and snappy between those two.

As the afternoon ticked on, Mu Qing rose from the couch with a scritch to Lotus’ chin as appeasement for abandoning her to head over to the kitchen. There was plenty of meat in the fridge and some fresh vegetables. They should get cheese if Mu Qing were to live here for more than a few months. The shopping days were much closer than he thought then. Settles to make some stir-fried beef and soup for now.

Just as he starts draining the cooked rice, Lotus jumps onto the counter and Mu Qing tries to balance the heavy cooker out of her way. It, naturally, slips from his hand and scalds the entire left hand. A choked scream passes through his clenched teeth but Mu Qing, out of a wild instinct of insanity, puts the half-drained rice on the counter before he reaches for the blissful relief of cold water.

Lotus, having seen his distress, starts to cry in loud shrieks which, of course, draws Feng Xin from his meeting. He enters with a thunderous frown and a visible reprimand on his tongue. Freezes when he takes stock of the situation. Then briskly comes over.

“What the fuck?” he hisses as Mu Qing’s hand is taken hostage by Feng Xin.

“Hey! It hurts!” Mu Qing yelps with a frown, using his free hand to swat Feng Xin’s arm. Not an inch move. “Can you—”

“What happened?”

“Rice water tipped onto my hand. It’s fine . Do you have burn relief?”

For a moment, Feng Xin stares in defiance. Wanting to ask more questions. But he turns away without a word and Mu Qing wonders if he should just use some toothpaste. Standing there for a few minutes in frozen disbelief, Mu Qing almost jumps when Lotus starts purring. “Not your fault, Lotus.” If he could, he’d have ruffled her head.

Feng Xin appears just as he plans to move to the bathroom for the toothpaste. Holding a can of burn relief. “Here.” Once again, Mu Qing’s hand is taken from his side and the spray numbs his nerves blissfully. Hopefully, it won’t blister and scar his hands. “I have aloe too.” His eyes dart to the kitchen. 

The image of Feng Xin standing in a suit—at least the top half of it—contrasted comically with the homeliness of the kitchen. Despite his pain and irritation, Mu Qing snorts. At Feng Xin’s probing look, he explains but Feng Xin doesn’t smile. If anything, he frowns even more. 

“I’ll make the rest of the food. Go and rest.” An annoyed sign escapes him which rubs Mu Qing the wrong way.

Was he so disturbed by the idea of being married to Mu Qing that even the smallest attempt to establish some sort of camaraderie is found annoying? Irritation and hurt flooded his mind and Mu Qing pulled away from Feng Xin with a click of his tongue. “I can take care of myself. You should go and attend that important meeting of yours.”

Eyes widening as if he had forgotten about the meeting, Feng Xin rushes out of the room cursing at Lotus’ food bowl on the way. Left alone in the middle of the kitchen with a burnt hand and a sad cat, Mu Qing wants nothing more than to go home. At least he has his right hand to finish cooking. Feng Xin be damned.

“How’s marriage?” Xie Lian asks. The long strands of his hair whips in the air as they walk towards the grocery store. Hua Cheng was tailing them as he took a business call. Perhaps Mu Qing should have accepted the offer from them to get a car ride. The store was a bit far from Feng Xin’s apartment. But he was annoyed and in a dark mood today. His husband had bailed out on helping him shop for the house using the excuse of going to work even though it was six in the evening. Something or the other about an emergency, not even caring about Mu Qing’s still hurting, but bandage-free, hand. Feng Xin would be a terrible husband if he were to marry someone else—someone who he actually likes, Mu Qing thinks—after Mu Qing.

He had called Xie Lian only to find that he was with Hua Cheng in the neighbourhood to visit one of Hua Cheng’s business partners. They had agreed to tag along with him for old times’ sake and Mu Qing, really having missed his cousin, smiled despite his dark mood. Even that insufferable Hua Cheng’s face was a relief to see. It had not even been three weeks.

“Weird.” Mu Qing tells them that the only good thing in the house is Lotus.

“You’ve always wanted a pet.” Xie Lian links their arms together. before he can say whatever is on his mind Hua Cheng sidles along to kiss his temple affectionately. Mu Qing feels something in him twist. A yearning that he had never managed to successfully bury. “San Lang! Anything to buy?”

“Whatever Gege wants.” Such a simp but Mu Qing couldn’t have accepted anything less for Xie Lian. Such a pure soul like him deserved the absolute devotion Hua Cheng bestowed on him even if it meant the man was mean to everyone else.

“Stop flirting,” he groans and flushes when Hua Cheng looks at him with a strangely understanding smile. “What?”

“Nothing.” Hua Cheng shrugged. “How’s Feng Xin? I’ve heard he’s one of the few rich kids who’s actually made it up without nepotism. Must be a good dude?”

“Not to me, then. He’s keen on ignoring me.” It’s hard to keep the bitterness out of his voice and only feels worse when Xie Lian’s hand tightens on his forearm. Mu Qing can’t bear looking at his cousin’s obviously concerned face. “I know this is a marriage of convenience but I thought we’d go for a honeymoon or get to know each other or something. I don’t even know anyone in the neighbourhood because Feng Xin hasn’t bothered to make friends with anyone.

“It’s just so lonely sometimes. I miss my moms. I miss you guys.”

“Next week,” Xie Lian proposes. “Let’s go back home. Us three and San Lang.”

“I-I don’t know Lian-er,” Mu Qing says, sighing warily. “I’ll go to his company to help him with stuff from next week.” All Feng Xin bothers about is work anyway. Maybe then he would look at Mu Qing for more than the time they spend with each other eating food or watching crap telly.

“Talk to Feng Xin,” Hua Cheng pipes in with a strange smile on his face. “I’m sure he’ll listen to you.”

“If he wanted to listen to me, he’d have acted like it.”

By then they had reached the grocery store. Mu Qing was quick to put the two to work to avoid any further talk. He already planned to divert everything else back to their lives on their walk back. It would do no good to bitch about his own unfortunate life. Not as if this was a lasting life sentence. A few more months and his mom will be all healed. Then they would divorce. Feng Xin would disappear from his life and Mu Qing would resume his life where he’d dropped it.

Everything would be back to normal. Though not soon enough.

Chapter Text

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng had to go back right after they dropped Mu Qing back at the apartment. They hugged for a few extra seconds and Hua Cheng shook his hand which was as good as a hug from him. Then they left him alone. For a few moments, Mu Qing stared after the terribly red car as it sped down the road he yearned to chase after it but he turned back into the apartment. Maybe Lotus could keep him company today.

Opting the stairs over the lift for some extra exercise that would hopefully burn away the awful emotions inside him. Halfway over to his floor, he watches as an apple rolls by his feet on the stairwell. Following the squeak that accompanies the motions, Mu Qing’s eyes meet that of an old woman holding a tattered plastic bag. Standing between apples with a distraught expression.

“Do you need any help? I have an extra bag?” The cashier had given him a plastic bag even though he’d told her he had a reusable one. Judging by her batting eyes, she might have considered that as flirting. It was cute at least though Mu Qing was not interested in women in general.

“Do you have one? That would be wonderful, dear.” The woman was on the verge of tears. Didn’t make Mu Qing feel any less awkward. “I am so sorry—”

“No need to apologise. It happens.” Mu Qing bent down to start picking up the apples. Quickly they were deposited into the new bag. The woman had introduced herself to him as Mo Fei and was beaming at him as Mu Qing introduced himself as Feng Xin’s new husband. That was when Mu Qing realised his husband was a fucking liar. Even if he didn’t know the neighbours, they knew him.

After she had fussed at his hand for a moment, which she had seen while he held her arm to help her up the stairs, Senior Mo had started getting chatty. According to Senior Mo, Feng Xin was “kind-hearted and gentle-worded” in the few handfuls of times they met in the stairwell or the lift. “Such a busy young man!” she was saying, clutching at his arm as they slowly crawled up the stairs. Apparently, she lived on the same floor, the second door from theirs. For all her gentle demeanour she was not above having the nosiness that possessed most older Asian women. “I never thought he’d have time to date someone, yet here he is! Married to a darling like you!”

Mu Qing flushed at the praise and couldn’t help but smile. Would his mothers grow up to be this teasing yet sweet as Mo Fei? Time will tell. “We met through our families. The courting period was short.” He didn’t know how she would react if he told her that it was a marriage of convenience. His instinct told her that Senior Mo was a gossipy one and that news would do no good spreading around without control. Feng Xin was his husband, after all, his reputation being tarnished would mean Mu Qing’s reputation also being harmed. He couldn’t have that.

“Ah, young love!” She was flushed with both the exercise and whatever she was feeling—a romantic’s happiness for another’s love, it seems—as she beamed at him with the energy of a small supernova. “Enjoy it, ok? When you grow old and have kids, you don’t have much time.” The wink she sent his way was very suggestive and Mu Qing flushed even as his inner voice snorted.

‘As if,’ he thought as he saw her to her flat and started the lengthy procedure of saying goodbye and answering another round of questions about his burn. ‘We won’t grow old nor will we ever sleep together like that . Ha! What a funny thought.’

Finally, Mu Qing arrived at his flat after ten minutes of goodbyes being interrupted by Senior Mo asking for more details about their wedding Mu Qing answered with half-truths and promises of coming over for tea. Lotus was napping on her cat tower in a puddle of sunlight but she flickered her tail when Mu Qing passed by her to the kitchen. The groceries were put away quickly. When he went back to the bedroom to get some clothes for a shower, he found a lump under the blankets.

Standing at the door in frozen shock, Mu Qing wondered if it was some perverted burglar but then Lotus would have surely been more aggressive than being a lazy mould of cat. Then he registered the mop of brown hair peaking up from the top. It was Feng Xin. With an irritated sigh at not even having been informed that his husband was home, Mu Qing went over to poke him awake to cruelly ask why he was so late from work when Feng Xin whimpered.

Hesitantly, Mu Qing sat down to place his wrapped-up left hand to gently shake what he hoped was Feng Xin’s shoulder. Blanket shifted to reveal Feng Xin’s bleary eyes blinking at him. Oh. He was just waking up. Not a bad dream, then.

“Mu Qing?” The sleep-rough voice sent his stomach aflutter. Mu Qing nodded. “Time’s it?”

“Almost seven. I’m going to take a shower and then make dinner. You want some?” Mu Qing resists the urge to run his healing fingers through Feng Xin’s ruffled hair. The only time he let down his hair was when he was sleeping even though he clearly looked gorgeous with open hair. Dangerous thoughts, Mu Qing, dangerous .

“Hmph, yes.” Feng Xin yawned and Mu Qing wrinkled his nose as he teased him about the stinky mouth but the man grumbled something before he got up to stretch his body. “I’ll make dinner.”

“You’re tired. Just wait for ten minutes.” Mu Qing rolled his eyes as he quickly got his clothes for the shower. But Feng Xin was out of the room without an answer.

When Mu Qing returned from the shower, there was a simple spread of dinner on the table. he grumbled in token protests but Feng Xin only rolled his eyes before gesturing him to continue eating. At least he doesn’t fight Mu Qing when he takes over the dishwashing duties. They settled for some crap television afterwards as Feng Xin tried not to fall asleep and shared Lotus-petting duties.

Something like contentment settled in Mu Qing’s bones as he watched Feng Xin give in to his tiredness and slump onto the couch. Shutting off the TV, Mu Qing gently dropped Lotus to the floor before he stretched Feng Xin over the length of the couch. Draped the throw blanket over him. He took a picture when Lotus clambered on top of Feng Xin and purred. A smile broke out even through his sleep as a hand rested on the cat’s body. Maybe he would add this photo onto the new section of the wall Mu Qing pirated for himself, right amongst their wedding photo and family photos. Maybe he’d consider placing it next to the one where it’s just Mu Qing with his cousins.

The morning came and with it came the realisation that Mu Qing was once again alone in this flat. The left side of the bed was left empty and cold. Undisturbed. Feng Xin’s watch that he wore to work was missing from the dressing table. Mu Qing had a lonely breakfast after which he called Mom who put him on speaker phone so that Mother could hear too. As he hung up, he promised to come back home before work started. Even if Feng Xin didn’t want to that made his mothers sound a bit sad.

When his husband returned from work, Mu Qing cornered him in the bedroom. Refusing to blush as Feng Xin continues to strip out of his work clothes and switch to comfortable pyjamas without bothering with Mu Qing’s presence.

“Feng Xin,” he calls when the man puts on his sweatpants and turns. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah. Let’s go to the living room.” He places a hand on Mu Qing’s back and steers him.

Mu Qing doesn’t shrug off the touch and nearly sits on Lotus resting on the couch cushions.

“What’s it?”

“I want to visit my parents,” Mu Qing says and does not break eye contact. “With or without you.”

“Okay.” Feng Xin smiles as if he’s relieved. Which is…surprising. “I thought you were divorcing me already.”

Don’t hope Mu Qing. He’ll never like you cause you’re too much of an asshole. “Why would I? Mom isn’t healed fully.”

“Hm. Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, we’ll go visit. Does tomorrow sound good?”

“Don’t you have work?” Mu Qing’s eyes are wide. Wasn’t work precious to Feng Xin? “Tomorrow is too soon, anyways.”

Feng Xin frowns. “I can take a holiday.”

“We need to pack and what about Lotus? Do we take her too?”

“Yes? She has a cat carrier.” Of course, she does. “Friday, then?”

“We can stay the weekend?”

“Yes. That’s good.”

“Deal.”

Feng Xin chuckles and shakes their hands together. Hold gentle. “Deal.”

Hong Kong is beautiful in a different way for Mu Qing. He feels freer and thinks that if he were to walk with his husband on these streets, holding hands or something, they would be less likely to be spat on or be given the evil eye. In fact, he’s just a bit tempted to hold Feng Xin’s hand as Mu Qing’s mother parks their car in the parking lot. But he has an upset Lotus in his hands and Feng Xin keeps a careful distance between them. Afraid to even brush against Mu Qing. So, when his ponytail whips against Feng Xin’s neck at a particularly gusty breeze, he has a hard time holding back his chortle. Mother turns to look at him with a smile that is relieved for, perhaps, all the wrong reasons. But that twinkle in her eyes is familiar and Mu Qing panics as he glares at her.

“How is living with my son?” Mother asks Feng Xin on the lift, alternating between him and Lotus with coos. “He’s like a cactus. Soft beneath all those prickly thorns.”

Mu Qing hisses at her. “A-Niang!”

“Your husband has to know you, A-Qing. You’ll be living for a considerable time together.” Sadness creeps into her smile as she looks at her son with a knowing look but it vanishes quickly as she turns to Feng Xin with a grin. “So…?”

“Anyone who Lotus likes is good.” Feng Xin nods to the cat who, on cue, purrs against Mu Qing’s thumb. The soft lick tickled him. Mu Qing can’t take his eyes off his husband.

“Wise. Animals always know us better than our fellow humans.” Mother winks as the elevator dings. “Oh! Your mom has made everything under the sun for both of you…”

Mu Qing listens to his mother drone on with tinnitus in his ears or maybe it’s just his heart sonic-speeding.

“Qingqing!” Mom calls and Mu Qing is quickly pulled into a hug. She looks healthy. Her hair is already cropping up enough to not wear a wig. Colour rests high on her cheeks and peace settles inside Mu Qing, quickly followed by apprehension. His status as Feng Xin’s husband is short-lived, after all. Not that he believed it to be anything else. Ugh. But the evidence of their agreement reaching an inevitable end makes his stomach clench.

“Mom.” He presses a kiss against her cheek. “Doing good?”

“Yes, yes.” She beams at Feng Xin. “Come in, darling. You must be starving!”

Surprise flitters through Feng Xin’s face and Mu Qing wonders if pet names were not a big thing in his family. The image of his strict parents flashes through his mind, from their wedding day, and it makes sense. No wonder Feng Xin is terrible at words. Perhaps Mu Qing shouldn’t be the one to judge.

“A-Qing? Are you going to let Lotus out?”

Snapping out of his daze, Mu Qing watches Feng Xin disappear deeper into the house with Mom. Mother gives him a startled smile as he quickly crouches down to open the carrier’s case. Lotus ventures out and sniffs cautiously. At first Mother’s fingers, gentle yet eager, startle the poor girl and she hides behind Mu Qing but she relaxes and meows when Mu Qing scoops her into his arms to let Mother pet her easily.

Lotus curls against Feng Xin for lunch, tail flickering warily at the new place but she doesn’t kick up a fuss and Mu Qing feels an odd pride. Even though he never trained her but still—he felt like a proud cat parent. However, having a cat in his lap distracts Feng Xin from his meals which pulls Mu Qing away from their choppy conversation with his mothers to cluck his tongue and pile more side dishes onto Feng Xin’s plate. It earns him a confused albeit amused smile that Mu Qing receives with a blank face.

Afterwards, Feng Xin is carted off to the living room couch with Mom and Lotus for whatever ice-breaking conversation she will pull him into. His mom has the magic of making anyone feel comfortable with her. Feng Xin’s wards will surely not be any stronger against her charm. If not for Mu Qing, then for Mom he cannot regret agreeing to this marriage. Mu Qing helps his mother with washing the dishes. Of course, she uses this opportunity to talk to him in private about his marriage.

“Did you two…” Her grin widens, “have sex?”

“A-Niang! I swear to—No!” Mu Qing wishes he could dunk his face into the cold soppy water and drown himself and his stupid blush. “Why would you—”

“You look happy with him.”

… “What?” That would be the last thing Mu Qing would associate with himself in the presence of Feng Xin. Happiness was a stretch. It’s not like he hated Feng Xin or anything, not really. But it wasn’t easy to pretend that he was happy being in a marriage of convenience and pretend his life was all okay when he had to be separated from his family. His freedom is at the mercy of the Feng family just so that Mom will live a few decades more. It was like being torn from a dreamland and stuck into a strange no-man’s land with no map or guides.

“You don’t tense around him and Lotus makes you smile so much. Feng Xin made you laugh.”

He had been telling a story of young Lotus who had thrown up her first hairball right onto Feng Xin’s shirt while he was in a meeting. The image was so funny the laughter had been literally pushed out of Mu Qing against his will. Now he can recall his parents' surprised but pleased looks and the ghost of Feng Xin’s smile. Warm golden eyes that had made his laughter almost breathy. Any arguments Mu Qing had on his lips died their pathetic death.

“A-Qing,” Mother calls and he looks at her sad smile. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“If I do—” Mu Qing hesitates but inhales at her gentle touch to his jaw, “—you’ll be there for me?”

“Of course, love. Always. So will Xie Lian and Shi Qingxuan. I understand there are things your mothers cannot answer so seek your cousins out, alright? Don’t hesitate.”

“Yes, A-Niang.” Mu Qing smiles more bravely than he feels. “You just be there for Mom.”

“I love her. Of course, I’ll be there for her.” Her laugh does not soothe Mu Qing like it used to. Instead, he collides painfully with the yearning inside him. Growing stronger the more he tries to suppress it.

They lay facing each other with Lotus between them. Feng Xin has his eyes closed but Mu Qing can’t stop his heart from beating so loudly. Hong Kong runs hotter than Shanghai in the summer and it shouldn’t be a big question why his husband has divested of his shirt. It does not do good things to Mu Qing’s psyche. His limbs are arrested and his eyes are glued to the tanned strip of skin reaching out of the blankets.

When asleep, Feng Xin is simply the most gorgeous man Mu Qing has seen in recent times outside of magazines or billboards. Even the small litany of scars on his arm, that glow silver under the moonlight streaming in through Mu Qing’s bedroom window, is not enough deterrent to reducing Feng Xin’s humanity. It adds to it. Mu Qing has so many questions. Can he see more? How did he get those scars? Can he touch more?

He does none of these as he continues to watch Feng Xin sleep like a pervert.

Lotus purrs in her sleep and arches closer to his husband whose hand responds like second nature even in his comatose state to stroke across her belly clumsily. Mu Qing wishes he could take a photo but then he wouldn’t know how to justify that if Feng Xin knew of its existence and it would also mean looking away to reach for his phone on the nightstand. He stays.

Only when his hand brushes against the wilder strands of Feng Xin’s mused-up hair does Mu Qing realise that he has even reached out. Frozen, he waits for the man to stir awake and start yelling. Leave the bed or demand a divorce. Something. Feng Xin continues to slumber. Breaths leave his lungs in deep exhales that brush against Mu Qing’s chin. If only they had a guest room, Mu Qing would have forced Feng Xin there; but, alas, his mother’s flat was small. But oh, does he wish there was a separate room.

His hand moves on its own as it brushes aside stray hairs to tuck it behind Feng Xin’s ear and reveal his countenance more. Without the stress, his lips fell into a natural pout that Mu Qing had the weirdest urge to kiss. Perhaps it was all this domesticity of his home and this weird purgatory situation he found himself in. Or it was some hidden desire inside Mu Qing that he was terrified of even acknowledging. Dangerous idea, that.

Feng Xin grumbles in his sleep and Mu Qing snatches his hand back, almost yelping when the bed creaks in his haste to turn his back to his husband. For a moment he listens to the darkness and Lotus’ sleeping sounds before Feng Xin smacks his lips, an unfortunate habit in his deep sleep as Mu Qing had discovered soon into their living together. Still asleep. A relieved sigh escapes him as Mu Qing gently turns back to face Feng Xin who had shifted onto his back.

“Ugh.” Mu Qing closed his eyes before he started to chant “Sleep, you idiot” inside his head and stroked Lotus for calming energy. Before long, Feng Xin’s breaths and Lotus’ tiny heart beneath his fingers lulled him to a safety that took his hand and plunged him straight into the depths of blissful sleep.

Returning to Shanghai with his cousins instead of his husband ensured a more positive feeling that he now associated with the city except for Lotus, of course. Feng Xin had a business meeting in Beijing so he had flown over and left Mu Qing to find his way back to his new home with Lotus. Shi Qingxuan and Xie Lian had volunteered to help him across the provinces.

“Is Hua Cheng in Hong Kong, too?” Mu Qing asks on their train journey. Shi Qingxuan was fiddling with her skirt with one hand and texting someone with the other. It was a bit fascinating to watch but he turned to Xie Lian when he replied.

“No. He had some important stuff to handle back in Shanghai. You needed company.”

“I could have just gone with him,” Shi Qingxuan says, raising her brows with a knowing smile. “Aw, you just wanted to hang out with us.”

“Both of you are stupid,” Mu Qing quipped. But a large smile was painted onto his lips as his cousins tickled at his sides because they had a strange idea of revenge. “Stop! We’re not children anymore.” He huffed as he adjusted his hair over his shoulder as gracefully as he could manage.

“You might be married and all, but we’re still kids to each other.” She sniffs as if that makes sense but Mu Qing only rolls his eyes. Rarely did Mu Qing feel young outside with his cousins and they knew it. He savoured the simple joy of being with them.

Lotus on his lap was mewing to drag Shi Qingxuan’s attention. It wasn’t a surprise to find her absolutely in love with the cat even though it’s been barely an hour since their meeting. Mu Qing would remember to sneak in extra treats to Lotus when they returned home. Xie Lian is not that affected though and continues to drag Mu Qing into one conversation after another that somehow always circles back to his disgustingly domestic life with Hua Cheng.

“San Lang is so cheesy.” Xie Lian blushes with a love-sick expression as he smiles at Mu Qing. He can’t find it in himself to throw one back through the molasses of yearning crowding his chest. “Last time we went to dinner where we first met and he—”

“A-Lian,” Shi Qingxuan interrupts. She had finally stopped cooing at Lotus through the carrier’s door and was looking at him with a chiding look that softened into a grimace when she glanced at Mu Qing. Turning to him, Shi Qingxuan asked sweetly, “How are you with Feng Xin? Is he treating you right? Do we need to kick his teeth?”

Looking guilty, Xie Lian reaches to link their fingers together. “Ah, sorry. I—”

“It’s fine, Lian-er. Leave it.” Mu Qing sighs before smiling at Shi Qingxuan. “No need for teeth-kicking. He is a gentleman even though we bicker a lot.”

“You both are similar, no wonder you bicker this much.” She shudders comically. “I can’t imagine living with both of you in the same room for more than three hours. Poor Lotus, I wonder how she survives.”

“She’s used to it.” A chuckle escapes him. “The only reason we haven’t killed each other accidentally would be because she’ll miss us both.”

When neither of them speaks for a while, staring at Mu Qing with an intense look and matching pressed lips, he snaps, “What? Is there something on my face?”

“Qing-er,” Xie Lian ventures, sharing uncertain looks with Shi Qingxuan. She’s holding his hand too and Mu Qing knows that they are going to force him to acknowledge something in him that he’s been busy ignoring. Mu Qing hates it when they force him to see the worst and best parts of him. It’s terrifying because he knows exactly what they are going to say.

Shi Qingxuan says, “You like him.” Not even a question. “Not as a friend.”

“What’re you saying,” Mu Qing protests weakly and his fingers go numb where it’s wrapped around his cousins’. “I don’t like him. He’s annoying and stupid and never stays for longer than two hours in my presence. We always bicker when we do spend time…”

But Feng Xin is also kind. He’s beautiful in a way that makes Mu Qing itch to touch him kiss him and venerate his existence. Tempting in a way that begs him to learn every little thing about him. The shape of his fingers, the feel of his skin, the texture of his lips, the sound of his footsteps, the slide of his hair. Mu Qing wants to touch and hold and never let go. An infatuation that was quickly becoming something much more dangerous because Feng Xin wouldn’t stop smiling at Mu Qing when he was playing with Lotus or making them lunch or just stop bickering to diss whatever TV show they were watching. As if they are more than whatever they are through this marriage of convenience.

“It’s alright, Mu Qing,” Xie Lian croons as he presses Mu Qing’s head into his shoulder. “We’ll figure it out.”

“And if he breaks your heart, we’ll break his legs.” Shi Qingxuan promises and presses a kiss to his hand. “Or eat shitty takeout while you cry.”

“Who’s going to break my heart? I don’t like him.” Mu Qing sounds unconvincing to himself but his cousins are kind enough to let him go with a hum.

The rest of the train ride is silent as the three of them ignore the strange looks the other passenger gives them at three people pressed together like this. Intimate and soft with a purring cat in a carrier on a man’s lap.

Shi Qingxuan and Xie Lian stay at Feng Xin’s apartment that night where they all have a movie marathon on the couch and fall asleep on each other. When morning comes, they are greeted with kinks on their back and sore necks. Mu Qing makes them coffee and feeds them frozen dumplings before going shopping together.

He decidedly does not think about Feng Xin sleeping in the bedroom. Not having noticed his husband returning sometime at night without waking any of them up as he went to bed. The strange thoughtfulness was the reason Mu Qing left him some breakfast with a note about his whereabouts. At least, that’s what he tells himself.

“What do you think about this?” Shi Qingxuan asks as he holds up a long skirt to Mu Qing’s waist. She was always pressing him to try more feminine styles even though he preferred jeans and hoodies and the like. But sometimes, when they were in college, Mu Qing would allow Shi Qingxuan and Xie Lian to dress him up in skirts and crop tops, style his hair and put make-up on him during parties. It would make him feel so pretty but Mu Qing had given up pretty for comfort when he started his job.

Unbiddenly, he thinks about Feng Xin’s reaction if he were to dress up in a skirt and wear some jewellery and make-up. Would he be surprised, disgusted, attracted? In a moment of pure self-indulgence, Mu Qing imagined Feng Xin’s eyes widening at how Mu Qing would undoubtedly look beautiful in a skirt and perhaps he’d even draw them closer together to whisper praises. Heartbeat nearly deafening him, Mu Qing pressed his lips together and ignored Shi Qingxuan’s knowing smirk.

“So…?” she probed.

“Fine. Help me choose some tops and makeup.” Xie Lian and Shi Qingxuan cheer at his words. “Nothing too extra! Or I swear—”

“Sure, Qing-er,” Xie Lian mocks. “There’s no stopping our jie .”

Surely enough Mu Qing grimaces as he watches Shi Qingxuan don a determined look and drags Mu Qing to look at the clothes. There’s no stopping a Shi Qingxuan who has made up her mind especially when it comes to her clothes. With a resigned sigh and glare at Xie Lian’s evil grin, he follows.

Chapter Text

There is no occasion for Mu Qing to wear his new clothes and makeup because soon enough Feng Xin takes him to his office for phase two of this marriage. Mu Qing’s part of the deal in this marriage. Two weeks into their marriage, Feng Xin takes him to the office. He owns no suits that match the professionalism of Feng Xin but his husband assures Mu Qing that he would only need some decent shirts and dress pants.

Mu Qing finds that his husband is not the strictest boss when it comes to the sincerity of the employee’s work. The people in the office greet Feng Xin and Mu Qing warmly with smiles and light teasing as they trek towards the former’s office. He feels out of place and barely manages to smile stiffly back at every greeting and wish he receives. Only when the door of the office closes behind him does Mu Qing relax his tense shoulders.

“You’re helping me with management ideas and paperwork,” Feng Xin says as he presses Mu Qing onto the couch looking over the city through the large windows of this room. He sits next to Mu Qing and smiles slightly. “It’s just a show for my parents. I really don’t need your help.”

“What? You think I can’t handle this?” Bickering is much more familiar to him.

Predictably, Feng Xin grabs the bait and scowls back. “That is not what I meant! I have a PA and the employees do a good job. My parents just want me to have more free time, that’s why—”

“That’s why they married me to you? A personal assistant without pay just so you can spend more time with them?”

Feng Xin rolls his eyes. “Essentially yes—”

“Wow, you are so—”

“—Stop interrupting me!”

Mu Qing keeps talking anyway, “So annoying! If you want to spend time with your parents, why don’t you just take a vacation?”

“Because I don’t like my parents!” Feng Xin’s eyes widen and he looks away. “My family life isn’t as…nice as yours. My parents don’t like nor value each other, let alone their kids, as more than business assets.”

Something in Mu Qing softens but he still keeps his tone haughty. “Why’re they scrambling for your attention then?”

“Because my brother has already gone out of the business field now that he has a girlfriend and they will get married one day. He’s made enough money to start his own…whatever he wants.” Feng Xin chuckles bitterly. “They can’t have me go about doing whatever I want or their business will collapse.”

“So, they’re trying to show you that you matter? Very fucked up way to do so, though.”

“Yes. It is.” With a weary sigh, Feng Xin looks at Mu Qing. “Look, the sooner you cooperate with me, the sooner I can finish up this business deal enough to assure my parents and your mom to heal, the sooner we can divorce. We’d both be happy the faster this is all done with.”

Hurt suffuses through Mu Qing. His stomach knotted with itself as Mu Qing’s teeth clacked in his haste to push out something just as apathetic. “Right. Should we get to it then?”

Feng Xin looks at him with an unreadable expression for all of ten seconds before he nods and gets up. “I’ll show you the paperwork for our project and then Ling Wen, she’s my PA, will help you sort through it.”

As he finishes the door opens and a tall woman dressed in a smart pantsuit strides in, her heeled shoes clacking against the tiles. She leads him to her office where they both work through the paperwork and manage Feng Xin’s calendar. That is when Mu Qing learns the new motive of his position here which honestly makes him more sensitive. He likes Ling Wen. She’s matter-of-fact and doesn’t speak more than needed which is perfect for Mu Qing, still wallowing in Feng Xin’s words from before. But he kind of wants to shake her brain out of her head after her words.

“You will be the boss’ date in all work events. So, you’ll need to behave well and learn to mingle. Get good clothes. Boss’ father has instructed me to teach you the etiquettes and stuff.”

“What.”

“You heard me. The boss knows of this, of course. Did he not tell you?”

Mu Qing feels his blood boil. “No.” That asshole. He was just a trophy husband then. As if this was not humiliating in and of itself. Now he had to be present for stuff like parties and pretend that he was happy and in love with his husband. Neither of which he was at the point of his life.

“There won’t be many such occasions. Once every month at most.” Ling Wen gives him a sympathetic smile. “It gets better with time.”

“Hm.” There was no point in arguing now. Taking a deep breath to reign in his temper, Mu Qing nods in resignation. “When do we start?”

“Tomorrow.”

“You didn’t care to tell me?” Mu Qing asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest as Feng Xin frowns in confusion from where he’d collapsed on the couch, still wearing his work clothes. Lotus was swatting at a bird outside the window, protected from her claws by the glass.

“Tell you what?”

“About me being the trophy husband to your office parties.”

“Oh. That. I figured you wouldn’t like that so I was not going to take you to those parties.” Even though he wasn’t wrong, it still stung.

“You think I can’t come with you because I’m not classy or rich or whatever like you? Is that it? Afraid of humiliating you?”

“What—Mu Qing, that is not what I said!” Anger is clear on his face and Mu Qing does not gasp, biting at his lip when Feng Xin draws closer. “I said you won’t like those parties. It’s just a bunch of self-important snobs pretending they don’t hate each other’s guts.”

“Then we’ll fit right in.” Mu Qing snarls. “What’s a bit more of pretending?”

The fight drains out of Feng Xin with a heavy sigh. “Do whatever you want. If you want to make yourself suffer, then do it. Don’t bitch about it if you hate it.”

Hollowness inside him stretched. “Whatever. When’s the first one?”

“Next week.” Feng Xin rips away his tie and shrugs out of his jacket. It’s unfair how attractive Mu Qing finds him even though he wants nothing but to hate Feng Xin and make the pain inside him vanish. Perhaps strangle him with that tie. “It’s semi-casual.”

“Any creeps?”

“All of them are creeps, Mu Qing. Power gets into one’s head and makes them think that they are invincible.”

“Even you?”

“What do you think?”

Mu Qing presses his lips together. “Not half bad.” A bright flush suffuses his neck and ears when Feng Xin looks at him with wide eyes. Before the man can say anything, he turns in the direction of the kitchen. “I’m ordering takeout. You can shower first.”

Realistically, Mu Qing knows that he is attractive. At least to satisfy the current social standards of beauty. He’s more feminine with his sharp chin and full lips when he’s not scowling. It gives an excuse to others for undermining him. Back when he used to work, if he wore anything other than stereotypically masculine clothes his workmates made fun of him more. No matter how much scowling or scathing remarks he made. It drew in the sympathy of the women and other feminine-presenting folk but it didn’t make Mu Qing feel better about himself. That was one of the reasons he stopped wearing feminine clothes.

On the day of the office party, Mu Qing decided to fuck everything and called Shi Qingxuan. One of Feng Xin’s business friends who lived nearby had come to pool together and was keeping his husband company when she arrived in jeans and a crop top, hair flowing behind her.

Mu Qing wished he could unsee the heady look that He Xuan, Feng Xin’s friend, gave Shi Qingxuan when she waved at the two of them on the couch before ushering Mu Qing into the bedroom. Feng Xin was already dressed and gave him an impatient look that he swatted away with a scowl. He Xuan, dressed in a black dress that accentuates their curves and angles, hadn’t stopped looking at Shi Qingxuan.

“Who is that hot guy?” She hadn’t even looked at the assortment of clothes and ornaments Mu Qing laid out on the bed. a blush was high on her face as she stared at the door as if she could He Xuan through it. He should bleach his eyes, like right now.

“They are Feng Xin’s friends.” Mu Qing rolled his eyes as he tried to keep his face from falling into a disgruntled grimace. Probably didn’t work if Shi Qingxuan’s pout was anything to go by. “Can you stop drooling, Jie ? This is important! I want to feed my husband his own words, that asshole.”

Snapping into attention, she nodded seriously even though she kept stealing glances at the door. “Will you get me their number in exchange?”

“If you can convince them to get us into a double date, I’ll kiss your foot.” Mu Qing does not blush at the implications. He does not. Fuck Feng Xin, it’s all his fault. “Not that it’s going to happen. Ugh. Fine. You’ll get their number.”

“What’s their name?”

“He Xuan. They’re a boss so…”

“Hey, I run my own fashion brand! I’m a boss too.”

“You don’t. You’re an apprentice under one of the fashion designers! Don’t get into some weird capitalistic competition.”

She gives him a flat look. “You don’t know shit about the economic overlords. Just change into your clothes already so I can make you up. You’re wasting away precious time where I could woo your husband’s friend already!” 

Mu Qing didn’t argue with that. In twenty minutes, Mu Qing was in a black skirt, brushing against his ankles, and sleeveless white turtleneck and a black knitted cardigan. Eyeliner sharpened his eyes and red highlighting the plumpness of his lips. His hair was artfully plaited to give it just the right amount of tousled, with some fake-stone jewellery to brighten his dark locks. Shi Qingxuan held up a pair of heeled boots, they would easily make him taller than Feng Xin, which he quickly slipped into. She stood aside and grinned in satisfaction.

“If people don’t fall in love with you the moment they look at you, something’s not right with them.” Shi Qingxuan smirked. “Except He Xuan though. I think I’d rather have them for myself.”

“You haven’t even talked to each other! Reign it in!” Mu Qing could feel his blush though. Would Feng Xin be one of those people or…? Shaking his head, he figured that any more dilly-dallying would cause trouble. “You’re cat-sitting Lotus, by the way.”

“What? I didn’t know that! I could be busy.” Shi Qingxuan flapped her hands indignantly. 

“It’s a Saturday night. You were planning to watch soppy lesbian dramas and cry about how you’re single.”

She flushes at having been read so easily. “Yes, I was. What’re you gonna do about it?

“Make you babysit my cat so you can watch those dramas on Feng Xin’s TV. Duh.” Mu Qing smirked. “And get you a hot person’s number.”

“Ugh. Fine. It’s because I love Lotus more than you. Nothing else.” She moves to open the door and Mu Qing rolls his eyes as he follows her into the living room.

“Sure, you say that. I know you, Jie .”

“Fuck off.”

He pauses in his reply when he hears a cough—more like someone choking—from the couch. Looks up to He Xuan patting Feng Xin’s back rigidly as his husband stares at Mu Qing with wide eyes. The attention sets heat abloom inside him and makes him want to combust into a million little stars. It reminds him of their wedding day. Heat curls in his stomach as Feng Xin hurries to get to his feet and takes a step closer before holding himself back.

“You, um, you look good.” His voice is hoarse and Mu Qing nods in acknowledgment. If he were to speak, he’d make a fool of himself really quick.

Shi Qingxuan next to him gives him a knowing grin. “I’ll take care of your cat, Feng Xin. You have fun tonight!”

“Ah, thanks, Qingxuan- jie. Uh, this is He Xuan.” Feng Xin tears his eyes away and does not look back. It makes Mu Qing want to hold his face and force his eyes back on him no matter how much his insides squirmed. Feng Xin says, “They’d like your number.”

“Oh!” Shi Qingxuan squeaks as she hurries to unearth her phone.

Mu Qing can see the slightly parted lip and the absolutely murderous glare He Xuan is giving Feng Xin but his husband just grins back lazily. Oh, he’s such a shit and I want to kiss him so bad. Mu Qing dies a bit inside and promises to throttle himself once he’s saner. Shi Qingxuan shoves the phone into He Xuan’s hands and smiles widely when she gets it back.

“I’ll, uh, text you?” He Xuan asks when their phone chimes before going quiet.

“Yes, please.” Both of them just stare at each other before Mu Qing clears his throat.

“Are we going or not?”

“Ah.” He Xuan turns on their heels and walks out of the door. Shi Qingxuan stares after them with a wide grin that disappears when Mu Qing swats her shoulder. Lotus wanders in to rub against her leg and she quickly bends down to coo at her.

Taking that as their cue, Feng Xin takes Mu Qing’s cardigan sleeve between his fingers and gently tugs them out of the house and onto the hallway where He Xuan was waiting by the lift.

“You look good too.” Mu Qing doesn’t look at Feng Xin but smiles at He Xuan when he compliments their dress, “Black suits you.”

“Thanks,” He Xuan says.

Feng Xin doesn’t reply but he can see the light red tint to his ears on the reflection. Indeed, in his tight shirt and form-fitting dress pants with his hair tied up into a neat little plait running down his neck, Feng Xin looks amazing. It is only when they are sitting in the car, with He Xuan texting someone—probably Shi Qingxuan—in the back, that Mu Qing realises that their outfits match. Both are in black and white with matching plaits lying down their necks. It makes something inside him squirm.

The party is smaller than Mu Qing expected. None of the friendly employees are in the crowd but Mu Qing recognises some of the CEOs Ling Wen had shown him photos of and clearly instructed him to stay away from because either they were way too manipulative or a pervert. Feng Xin links their arms together the moment they push through the door and Mu Qing struggles to not dig his nails into his husband’s arm when people turn to stare. Did they not know Feng Xin was married or what? The ring on his finger should have been a big sign. It takes some effort to reign in his glare at a gaggle of people ogling his husband.

He Xuan makes a beeline to the bar and starts ordering drinks and food as they continue to not look up from their phone, fingers flying in their haste to type. Mu Qing wishes he could be them. Instead, Feng Xin drags him over to an older lady with white strands of hair stylishly woven between her light black hair. She’s in a summer dress which is odd considering how cold it was outside. Mu Qing prays for her that she won’t get hypothermia the minute she gets out of the building. 

“Ah, Feng Xin!” She greets him with a pat on his shoulder. Mu Qing decides that she is a sweet person especially when an equally aged woman comes over to press a kiss against her cheek. “You’ve met my partner, Lee Bao?”

“Yes. It’s nice to meet you again. This is my husband, Mu Qing.”

With eyes on him, Mu Qing smiles stiffly even though he can feel himself relax just a bit at the bright beams the two women flash at him. His heart doesn’t quiet down. “Nice to meet you both.”

“It is very nice to meet you! Feng Xin is so cagey when he talks about you.” Lee Bao tuts.

“I know!” Boss-lady rolls her eyes. “And we are business partners. I know how nice you are to his cat and how you like cooking but that’s it! Feng Xin never mentioned how gorgeous you are. How did you get your eyeliner so straight?” She squints enviously.

Despite himself, Mu Qing snorts. “My cousin did it for me. She’s magic.”

“Most women are.” Lee Bao winks which causes them to chuckle.

He talks about me is what revibrates in Mu Qing’s head as he absently listens to Feng Xin and Boss-lady talk about their business while Lee Bao cheerfully sips at her drink with a hand on her partner’s waist. Even though their arms are linked and they are closer than ever, Mu Qing envies the women for their ease around each other. Wishes Feng Xin would look at him like Lee Bao looks at her partner. Even if she talked about economic depressions like they were somehow the best thing she’d ever heard. Maybe it was and Mu Qing just hated economics. Who knows.

They change people and Mu Qing stiffens when one of Ling Wen’s ‘don’t talk to him’ men comes into view. Turning to his husband, Mu Qing draws him closer and hisses, “He’s a creep!”

“He’s rich and provides a sizeable amount of tech support for our company,” Feng Xin replies but his jaw is tight and his hand tightens around Mu Qing’s hand. There was not much they could back off from.

The man was bald and wore a purple suit that clashed with his terribly blue tie. A young man was hanging off his shoulder looking drunk already even though the party was just beginning. Mu Qing felt bad for him. Just as Feng Xin stopped before the man with a muttered, “Hello Mr. Jin” the man turned a lecherous smile at him.

Stiffening, Mu Qing stood a bit taller, his heels making him higher than Feng Xin and hoped his slight glare was enough to put out any ideas from that man’s head. Instead, the flirty look increased when it landed on Mu Qing. Making his skin crawl and wish he’d retired to the bar with He Xuan when he had the chance to. Surprise turns to a pleased buzz when Feng Xin’s arm slips from his arm to curl around his waist.

“This is Mu Qing, my husband.” He tugs Mu Qing closer until his own arm is around Feng Xin. Mr. Jin’s eyes widen as he reevaluates and tones down his creepiness. Mu Qing can’t help but think—hope—that Feng Xin had sounded just a bit possessive and it wasn’t just wishful thinking. As the two men talk in stiff tones, he can only do so much to either pull Feng Xin closer to bury his nose in Feng Xin’s hair or push him away to reprieve his heart still beating painfully against his ribs. Perhaps it will bruise.

“Let’s get a drink,” Mu Qing says when Mr Jin and his boy-toy walk away. He can see other people eyeing Feng Xin and him for a potential talking session but if he was to survive this night, he’d need some drinks and food. Feng Xin is amenable to the idea as he leads them towards the bar, not letting go of his waist.

“You texting Mu Qing’s cousin?” Feng Xin asks instead of greeting He Xuan when they arrive at the bar. He’s smirking and Mu Qing should really stop finding the most random things about his husband attractive lest he break his heart when they inevitably will divorce. With the rate his mom is healing, it was sooner than later.

“Yes. Thank you, Mu Qing.” They don’t smile but the tension around their eyes loosens. 

Mu Qing nods and accepts the glass of whiskey from the bartender. They clink glasses and just chatter about random things. Well, Feng Xin talks while He Xuan grunts whenever he wants. Mu Qing listens to the cadence of his voice as they talk about Lotus and maybe getting a new toy for her. Before long, someone comes to find Feng Xin and rope him up in another boring conversation. This time Mu Qing opts out as he points out the food nearby.

As he picks out some snacks for them, Mu Qing wonders what life would be like once they’ve divorced. Would he miss watching Feng Xin fall sleeping or cooing over Lotus or driving or talking to his family with a gentle smile? Miss the taste of the food he cooks when he comes home early from work? Would he miss his heart beating off-rhythm when they stand just a bit closer?

When he walks back to Feng Xin and thrusts one plate into Feng Xin’s chest, receiving a smile that makes his amber eyes turn almost golden with the warmth it holds, Mu Qing thinks: yes. Yes, I would.

Like all Victorian and cheesy YA novels on which extensive fanfics are written, Mu Qing’s life doesn’t leave him alone until he dances with his temporary husband. Ling Wen had warned him that dancing was something Feng Xin enjoyed and that it would be a perfect cover to show their marriage was real; to show the other bosses that Feng Xin was capable of being happy under the stress of keeping up a business.

Mu Qing can only focus on the points where their existence intertwined.

Feels their chests press close together. Hands linking together. Holding back laughter when his hair whips Feng Xin’s neck when he is twirled. The way his skirt is always a tripping hazard and a reason for his many muffled curses. How Feng Xin decides to laugh right against his lips when Mu Qing complains about the painful heat of his thighs rubbing together.

It is short-lived but stretches across an eternity that is both torturous and blissful at the same time. Feng Xin has never looked this carefree in Mu Qing’s presence before and Mu Qing has a hard time holding himself back from kissing him. Taste the smile against his lips. He Xuan claps sarcastically when they leave the dance floor before grumbling about how it’s almost midnight and they are not college students anymore. They say goodbye to the nice older ladies and some other associates Feng Xin and He Xuan deem worthy before going out the door.

“I’m calling a taxi back home,” He Xuan says as they show them the Uber page. “Good night.”

Huh. “Night, He Xuan. Treat Shi Qingxuan right, okay?” Mu Qing narrows his eyes. “Or I will find you and murder you.”

“I’ve already gotten threats from Xie Lian—your other cousin, right? —and I don’t need a repeat. I won’t do anything she doesn’t want me to do, okay?” They roll their eyes but Mu Qing knows, hopes, that they are serious about whatever they’ve told Shi Qingxuan about.

“Fine.” He huffs. “I’ll warn you that she’s very clingy.”

“None of your business, Mu Qing.” Feng Xin sighs and tugs him closer to the car. “Night.”

He Xuan smirks as they walk away to wherever their Uber is. Mu Qing watches them for a moment before he climbs into the car. He knows Shi Qingxuan can take care of herself but it doesn’t make him less concerned about her. On their way back home, Mu Qing wrings out assurances that He Xuan is a good person. Feng Xin assures that they are nice, a bit severe but they have a good heart. Shi Qingxuan would like someone who can make her feel special and He Xuan definitely sounds like someone hard to attract attention from. She had managed that in one entrance.

“You know,” Feng Xin mumbles as he parks the car. Mu Qing doesn’t get out as he waits for Feng Xin to continue. He refuses to meet his eyes, hand gripping the steering wheel. “You’re different from what I expected.”

“What did you expect?” Was the car suddenly too hot?

“…I don’t know. But, well, I enjoy your company.”

Mu Qing’s heart was really going to leave some bruises. Internal bleeding. Or perhaps he was dying. That must be why his ears are ringing, right? He says, “Me too.” Before Feng Xin can turn and see his horribly ugly flushed face, Mu Qing rushes out of the car with the apartment keys.

Shi Qingxuan was asleep on the couch and he woke her up to ask if she wanted to stay over. She only mumbled an assent before conking right out. Mu Qing was a bit impressed but the door opened and he rushed into the bathroom to take a shower and change. He was surprised to find Feng Xin locked in the study when he came out of the shower, his suit in the closet of their room, next to where Mu Qing would hang tonight’s attire.

Before he slips into bed, he takes a blanket to drape over Shi Qingxuan and grabs Lotus on his way back to the bedroom. It’s only the exhaustion of a long, confusing night that lulls Mu Qing into a deep sleep.

When he wakes up at three, Feng Xin’s face is extremely close. Arms are wrapped around him and Mu Qing holds his breath until his face turns purple before he can relax fully. Once he gets used to the way Feng Xin’s arms around him, their skin brushing intimately, Mu Qing goes right back to sleep. Resting his head against Feng Xin’s and finally breathing in his scent. Since they use the same shampoo, the scent isn’t much different but the feel of it against his nose brings him a comfort that guides him deeper into unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

Like most failures in human life, Mu Qing’s happened with a mistake.

Three months had passed since Mu Qing married Feng Xin. He was settling in well with helping Feng Xin and Ling Wen in his free time. Liked waking Feng Xin up for his work and taking care of Lotus. The neighbours were kind and roped them into weekend lunches or evening teas. Especially Senior Mo who had taken to giving them relationship advice every time they met. It was a delight to watch Feng Xin turn red even though Mu Qing wasn’t any better. The new life suits Mu Qing very well. The rare parties they went to allowed Mu Qing to pretend that they were an actual couple. Allowed him to cling to Feng Xin like a possessive husband, glare at anyone giving him an indecent look and preen when his husband wrapped an arm around his waist whenever a creep became too comfortable.

Now that Shi Qingxuan and He Xuan were officially dating after a month of dates, they were a regular presence for dinners and sometimes even Xie Lian with Hua Cheng would drop by. A small part of the home that Mu Qing coveted. His parents were busy with his mom’s treatment which was going rather well and slowly but surely working effectively even though it kept them anchored to Hong Kong and didn’t allow them to travel much. But Feng Xin never complained when Mu Qing asked to drive down to Hong Kong for a visit every two weeks. Every time they did, he could see his mothers fawn over Feng Xin and nudge Mu Qing with a knowing smile that turned sad when he reminded them about the looming divorce.

As time passed, Feng Xin smiled at him more. Touched him more. They kissed in the presence of his bosses at the party. The first one was an accident while they danced, a missed step and incorrect timing, but Mu Qing, in his desperation to cling to his hope, had managed to convince Feng Xin to do that more. Surely, they will be more convinced that their marriage is sincere. The hope grew inside him when Feng Xin didn’t protest and kissed him like he meant it. Though his expectations were high, Mu Qing knew, in the deepest part of his mind, that it was stupid to even pretend they could be something. Real.

With each realisation that came with Feng Xin shrugging out of his hold the moment eyes stopped watching rushed in the pain and regret. Mu Qing wished he could run away and turn back time. Had said no to this proposal. He could have found some other way to repay his mom’s treatment. Soon enough, every smile Feng Xin gave him when they woke up to each other, closer than needed with their hands brushing, hurt Mu Qing from the inside out. Made him want to tear his hair and plead with Feng Xin for an answer.

Their months together had felt like years and seconds at the same time. Mu Qing wished he could pretend this was all just a dream that he would wake up from, sweaty and heartbroken. Instead, the universe had to be cruel.

Back in Hong Kong for his mother’s birthday, Mu Qing had convinced Feng Xin to take a long weekend holiday, he found himself sadder than he should be. Mu Qing’s mom was healing well. She was off her chemotherapy and had only some medicines left to keep her immunity up. Her hair was hanging up to her neck in lustrous waves. Eyes no longer sunken and skin supple. She looked aged but happy. With it came the realisation that Mu Qing would have to leave. Feng Xin was doing well with his job and his parents were happy with the outcome; there was no need for Mu Qing now that they had passed whatever rocky thing was happening in their family which urged them to marry Feng Xin off to a stranger.

Xie Lian and Shi Qingxuan were also present. They had taken one look at the gloomy face Mu Qing made when he glanced at his husband and took him to the balcony for a chat. Leaving Feng Xin to talk to his mothers and Hua Cheng who had tagged along with his boyfriend.

“Feng Xian and his fiancée will be joining us soon,” Mu Qing protests. He had not seen either of them more than an accidental run-in during an IKEA shopping spree. Ji Mian had proposed and they were already hurrying to marry which kept them busy as it was. But Mu Qing knew Feng Xin talked to his brother every other day. Maybe they didn’t like Mu Qing as much as they told him they did back during the wedding day. It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. But Mu Qing was more susceptible to pain nowadays due to his dumb heart being all stupid.

“Your husband can keep his brother entertained, A-Qing,” Shi Qingxuan retorts, rolling her eyes. She leaned against the railing before pulling him into a hug. “You can tell Jie everything.  You know that, right?”

“I know.” Mu Qing sighed against her shoulder. “I really like him and it hurts.”

“Aw, Qing-er.” Xie Lian drapes over him and Shi Qingxuan from the side. The rails must be digging into their sides painfully but neither of them complains. “We know that. You don’t want to divorce him, do you?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if he likes me back. Mom is healing well and I can’t just go and tell him that I like him. What if he hates me? I’d rather still have him as a friend than lose contact fully.”

“Did you even exchange numbers?” Xie Lian is teasing but Mu Qing nods seriously anyway. “Ah. Well then, I’m sure he won’t be against remaining friends.”

“What’s the use of speculating,” Shi Qingxuan chides. “You boys need to talk.”

Shuffling out of their embrace, Mu Qing leans against the railing next to her with a weary sigh. “We suck at communicating. Always ending up bickering when we do.”

“Then you’re both equally terrified.” She pats his shoulder with a grin. “I think if you don’t talk it out then it’s just going to get worse. You don’t have to confess! It’s not like you’re proposing to remain married or something like that, you’re just asking to remain friends.”

“Are we friends? Can we be friends if I’m in love with him?”

Silence.

“Wait,” Xie Lian ventures cautiously. “You love him?”

“Fuck.” A groan, long-suffering, escapes him. He hadn’t meant to tell them. “ Fuck .”

“Damn, boy.” Shi Qingxuan tuts. “Just—just talk it out. Okay?”

“I’ll try. Will you still punch him if he breaks my heart?”

His cousins snort at the same time. Xie Lian says, “Depends on if he deserves it or not.”

“I hate you both.” But there’s no bite to his word and they know it. Hugging him by his waist as if they were children once again; comforting Mu Qing after he was bullied at school. “You’re heavy.”

None of them let go until Lotus wanders in followed by Hua Cheng who snarks about their clinginess even though his eye literally melts with affection when Xie Lian goes to him. Mu Qing is almost jealous but knows that he doesn’t deserve that. What Xie Lian and Hua Cheng have is a devotion that would be unhealthy for anyone else. He Xuan and Shi Qingxuan bonded over their weirdness; a true case of opposites attracting. But Feng Xin and Mu Qing were too alike and different at the same time, which was either a recipe for disaster or a boon.

At least, he’ll fight for Lotus.

Feng Xian and Ji Mian charm Mu Qing’s parents with gifts and good manners, dragging the attention of their small party to the couple. They were friendly and just as teasing as Mu Qing remembers from the wedding ceremony. Even if they pretended that they hadn’t really kept in touch with him. Or perhaps it was Mu Qing’s fault for not reaching out.

As dinner commences, Mu Qing finds himself seated next to Feng Xin at the head of the table with his parents on the other side and the rest spread opposite them. It’s a tight pack but they manage. All attention is on Feng Xian and Ji Mian as they discuss the wedding—except Xie Lian who was enamoured with feeding Hua Cheng who was equally unbothered—and whatever else they talked about.

“You know,” Mu Qing says conversationally as he watches Feng Xin sip at his whiskey with a small frown. His words almost dry out when their eyes meet. Was his husband’s gaze always this intense? This was a look solely reserved for when they kissed to show other people that they were actually husbands. “Uh, you’re not that close to your brother, are you?”

Surprise turns to a grimace in quick succession on Feng Xin’s face. “We like each other but we’re not close like you, Xie Lian and Shi Qingxuan. We usually text and stuff.”

“Back at the wedding, you could’ve fooled me.” Mu Qing reaches over to squeeze Feng Xin’s hand before taking it away. Perhaps he’d had one too many glasses to drink.

“Hm. We like to keep to ourselves except to gossip about our parents. That’s our common ground.” Feng Xin snorts and shakes his head derisively. A few strands of hair escape his bun and Mu Qing has the absurd urge to tuck it behind his ears. It speaks to his inebriated condition that he actually follows through.

Feng Xin has that intense look again and he tilts his head to nudge closer to Mu Qing’s fingers that trail his jaw. Heat blooms in his stomach, catching fire to his heart until everything fades back into the background as pure desire etches into his very bones. Perhaps it was a trick of light or his drunk mind but Feng Xin’s pupils dilated and his breath, smelling of whiskey and spices, fanned against Mu Qing’s lips.

“What’re you both whispering about?” Ji Mian hollers, breaking them apart with surprised jolts.

Mu Qing glares at her but Feng Xin is already answering in a snappish voice, “Whispering about how you’re disgusting with each other.”

“Hey! You’re the married one acting all domestic,” Feng Xian retorts, his teasing smile just a bit strained at the edges.

Sensing the tension between them, Mu Qing’s mother jumps in. “When are you doing cake testing? I remember at our wedding; it took us a whole day to settle on it…” With the conversation successfully diverted, the tension dissipates.

“Sorry about that,” Feng Xin mutters, squeezing Mu Qing’s hand but he doesn’t let go. Mu Qing swallows his drink and pretends his heart isn’t trying to beat itself out of his ribs.

The guests started leaving when Mom started growing sleepy with all her medications. Xie Lian and Hua Cheng took Shi Qingxuan with them first, his cousins hugging him one by one followed by the promise to talk to Feng Xin squeezed out of him. Feng Xian and Ji Mian followed a bit later, the tension between the brothers strained but Ji Mian hugged them both with reassuring smiles before dragging her fiancé off.

“I’ll take your mom to bed,” Mother tells Mu Qing as he and Feng Xin have finished cleaning up the mess. “You go to sleep after you’re done, okay?”

“Yes, A-Niang. Go to sleep. Rest.” Mu Qing kisses her forehead. “Good night.”

“Night, love.” She smiles at Feng Xin before leading her drowsy wife to their bedroom.

“You can use the shower first,” Mu Qing tells his husband. “I’ll throw the trash out.”

When he returned, Feng Xin was already in bed with Lotus curled against his belly as he read something on his phone. Probably a work email. Mu Qing rolled his eyes; working even when he was technically on leave. The shower is quick and his heart beats loudly all the way through.

It wasn’t only him that noticed the strange tension between him and Feng Xin that grew after dinner. Even Hua Cheng had smirked knowingly, that bastard raising his eyebrows suggestively as it trailed over Feng Xin’s torso. Xie Lian had slapped his arm before Mu Qing could get to him but still. He’d chalked it up to the nerves of talking about their inevitable divorce. But as he crossed the living room to find Lotus on the couch, something like hope and fear mixed into a treacherous emotion curled against his chest.

Feng Xin usually slept shirtless but tonight Mu Qing dearly wished he had put on a shirt as he settled beside his husband on the bed. Absently he let down his hair and patted it dry as he watched Feng Xin shut down his phone and place it on the bedside table. they didn’t say anything as Mu Qing tried not to combust under the heated look Feng Xin threw him.

“Feng Xin,” Mu Qing said as he draped the towel over a chair by the window. He sat on the bed again and tried to breathe as Feng Xin turned to him. His body was very distracting and Mu Qing wanted nothing more than to run his hands over it. Feel his heart and find out if it beat just as fast as he did. If they screamed the same emotion. “We need to—”

They were kissing. Mu Qing’s mind blanked.

“Is this alright?” Feng Xin asked as he moved back, one hand coming to card through Mu Qing’s damp hair. A groan escaped him when Mu Qing tilted his head back with hooded eyes.

“Yes.”

And they were kissing again. It quickly digressed from then. Kissing turned to heavy petting as Feng Xin’s lips travelled down his neck and chest, as his hands found anchorage on Mu Qing’s hips, and he groaned when Mu Qing’s fingers dug into his back. Their hearts really did beat too loudly and almost in tandem with their crazy tempo. If this was how he died, Mu Qing thought as he pulled Feng Xin up to his lips again, then what a heavenly way to die indeed.

If Feng Xin looked good with his hair tied up, then he looked even more beautiful with his hair down and hovering over Mu Qing. Their panting breaths mingled as Mu Qing squeezed the linked hands for a reprieve. All his senses were heightened especially when their bodies touched and Mu Qing could only moan when Feng Xin kissed him again. Burying his fingers in Feng Xin’s hair. Burning himself on Feng Xin’s touch.

They fell asleep with Feng Xin’s face buried tight against Mu Qing’s throat, leaving lazy kisses against the skin, as their legs tangled together. It was home and it was heartbreak.

He wakes up to sunlight on his face and Feng Xin’s arm around him. Panic settles in him before he feels the soreness of his lips and the marks on his neck. The drying salvia on his skin stretched it uncomfortably. He turns his head to see Feng Xin’s mussed-up hair, teeth marks on his shoulder and neck from where Mu Qing bit him as his pleasure crested after rutting about like a bunch of teenagers. A blush spreads through his body like wildfire and doesn’t abate when Feng Xin’s eyes open.

“Morning.” His voice is deeper and scratches pleasantly against Mu Qing like his morning stubble over his forehead.

Mu Qing wrinkles his nose and pushes him away in wain. “Idiot. Your breath stinks.”

Laughing, Feng Xin presses a kiss to Mu Qing’s chin. “And your stubble hurts. Guess we’re even.”

Scoffing at the man, Mu Qing props himself on his elbow to watch Feng Xin stretch and groan. Last night’s heat stirs in his stomach but Mu Qing swallows it back. They have more important stuff to talk about.

“Feng Xin,” he calls and almost smiles when Feng Xin hums, cracking his eyes open to stare at Mu Qing as if he’s something worth looking out for. “Mom is healing well. She doesn’t need the extra money anymore.”

Just like that Feng Xin freezes and backs off into his metaphorical shell. “Why are you bringing this up?” He sits up and turns his back to Mu Qing.

Afraid to even breathe let alone reach out and touch him, beg him to listen before doing anything, Mu Qing stays right there. Frozen to his place on the bed. Every kiss and touch from last night leaves unpleasant shivers over his body. It all seems so far away.

“The divorce.” It’s almost a gasp. “Feng Xin, we need to—” Talk.

“I need to go back home,” Feng Xin says, voice clipped and deliberately unrevealing. “Bring Lotus with you. I’m taking the train.”

He doesn’t even turn to look at Mu Qing or acknowledge the naked hurt on his face, as Feng Xin dresses and leaves. Lotus emerges from the open door to nuzzle at him. Comforting his wounds that Feng Xin had left weeping. Guess it was really over, then, huh? Never has Mu Qing regrated something more than last night.

Was it all just a way to appease him before Feng Xin broke it all off? Is that it? A reward for Mu Qing’s help and a cruel goodbye?

He leaves a note for his parents about where he is going and takes Lotus with him after he’s dressed hurriedly. It was barely six in the morning when Mu Qing boarded the train back to Shanghai.

“Mu Qing! What’re you—” Xie Lian’s cheery greeting died on his lips when he saw the redness around Mu Qing’s eyes and a distressed Lotus mewling inside her carrier. He was shaking. “Oh, Qing-er, come inside. I’ll make us some tea.”

Hua Cheng was on the couch in their fancy little home. For a suburban house, theirs were grand in a non-boasting way. Furnished well and sported a majestic garden with resident butterflies and apple trees housing squirrels. It was so domestic and perhaps Mu Qing really should have gone to Shi Qingxuan’s place but she was living with He Xuan since last week and their place was too near Feng Xin’s.

“What happened to you? You look shitty,” Hua Cheng comments, not unkind but he never really did spout nice words unless it was Xie Lian. Mu Qing was used to that but it rubbed him wrong anyways.

“Got my heartbroken. What’re you gonna do about it?” he snapped.

“I can punch Feng Xin. Want me to?” Hua Cheng scowled. “Sit and drink the tea gege made.”

Grumbling about how Xie Lian would be feeding him poison, Mu Qing settles on the loveseat as his cousin hurries in with a small smile. “Have some biscuits. They are store-bought, don’t worry.”

Since Mu Qing doesn’t die at the first bite, he deems it safe enough to consume. And with it comes out the story.

“So, let me get this straight,” Hua Cheng sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You fucked last night and this morning you brought up the divorce? Are you stupid!”

“Hey! He was the one who left me suddenly.” Mu Qing could feel the guilt whirl around him. Admittedly, it wasn’t the sharpest moment of his life.

“San Lang has a point,” Xie Lian mutters. Traitor. “Anyone would have thought it was a one-time thing for you. Feng Xin probably felt pretty…worthless.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“Seriously.” Hua Cheng rolled his eyes. “Go and find him. Apologise or whatever before it gets worse, you idiot.”

“I don’t know what to say! How the hell did you two confess to each other?”

“He saw all the drawings I made of him,” Hua Cheng says, matter of fact with a bored expression. “And then we kissed.”

“I forgot how creepy you both are.” Mu Qing huffed. “Fine. I’ll go to him. If he really does reject me, I’m going to stay here.”

Xie Lian nods. “Of course. You always have a home here.”

Hua Cheng mutters something under his breath but Mu Qing ignores him as he stands to hug his cousin. “Can you take care of Lotus?”

“Yes. San Lang likes cats.” He smiles before winking. “Go bag your husband.”

Feng Xin is, predictably, not home when Mu Qing finally reaches home. He sits on the couch and stares at the blank TV for a moment while his phone rings and rings in a vain attempt to contact Feng Xin. As his phone is declined for the third time, Mu Qing snatches the device and dials Ling Wen. She picks up in the first ring, obviously waiting for him.

“He’s in the office,” she says before Mu Qing can even say hello. “Whatever you both did, you better fix it before the employees get worked up over their boss mopping like a child.”

“He’s mopping?” Mu Qing’s heart kicks up to his throat.

“Yes. He’s asked me to reschedule all the meetings today.” Feng Xin never reschedules his meetings because he’s diligent like that. “Please come and get your husband.”

“Thanks, Ling Wen. I’ll be right there.”

Shi Qingxuan was waiting for him in front of the apartment building when he finally ran down the stairs in hopes of finding the bus to Feng Xin’s office. She hung out of the passenger’s side of the car and he could see He Xuan behind the wheel, looking at him with their piercing gaze. Great. Xie Lian had told them also.

“Get in, get in!” She waved to him urgently. “Don’t wait up, idiot!”

“Thanks!” Mu Qing nodded at He Xuan but they only muttered something about not breaking his friend’s heart before they started driving as if the world was collapsing behind them. Mu Qing clung to the seat for his dear life and winced when Shi Qingxuan whooped and hollered. “Shut up, Jie !”

“No! This is the best day of my life! We’re living in a movie!”

“I might get my heartbroken!”

“I don’t care! This is fun!”

Mu Qing rolled his eyes and then nearly screamed when He Xuan almost collided with another car as they swerved to the left. In another few minutes, the car was parked and He Xuan’s phone was blowing up with messages about traffic violations, probably, but he didn’t wait for them before Mu Qing was out of the car and rushing to the lift.

The receptionist called after him but he didn’t care for them. Mu Qing must have looked a sight. Wearing ripped jeans and a Henley shirt with his hair open and streaming behind him. His boots were heavy against the tiles. Certainly, eyes were following him but all worry fled his mind when Feng Xin’s office door swam into his vision. He opened it without thought.

“I told you to leave me alone, Ling Wen!” Feng Xin shouts the moment Mu Qing shuts the door behind him. His husband is not facing him, turned towards his large windows with his hair a mess, as if his fingers were busy mussing it up, and his suit jacket was tossed aside on the couch. Shirt wrinkled. Not very professional, that.

“Your dad would burst a vessel if he saw you this messy,” Mu Qing says, voice trembling with hope exasperation and fear.

Wide eyes turned to regard him. “Mu Qing? What are you…”

“For you. I came for you. Idiot.” It’s so fond, Mu Qing wonders if Feng Xin was too stupid to understand it before.

With hesitant steps, Feng Xin wandered to the middle of the room and Mu Qing closed the distance between them. One breath. Then two. His hand wound around Feng Xin’s sleeve. They stood in silence for a moment. Mu Qing watched confusion and hope wage a battle on Feng Xin’s face before his lips parted to ask, “I thought you wanted a divorce?”

“Mom is healed,” he agreed and hurried to explain when Feng Xin’s face clouded over, arm jerking to dislodge Mu Qing’s hand. “No! Wait. Let me explain, idiot. I meant that my mom is healing well and we don’t need the extra money but—but I still want to be with you. To give us a try.”

“I thought you regrated last night?” Feng Xin’s smile was widening and he came closer to wind his hands around Mu Qing’s waist and pull them tight together. Tanned skin turned a sweet red under his hands.

“What? No. That was, uh, good.”

“You’d want to do that again?”

“Take me on a date first.” Mu Qing laughed. “We’re doing this in reverse.”

“Regrets?”

“Hm. No.”

Feng Xin nudged their noses together. “Kiss me?”

And Mu Qing did.

A year later

“You’re getting married!” Mu Qing cried as he saw the ring on Xie Lian’s hand the moment he passed through the door. “When did this happen?!”

Feng Xin pulled him closer and cooed as if he were Lotus in need of calming down. It worked. Asshole. “Come on, love. You knew this would happen.” He wrinkled his nose at Hua Cheng’s lovesick smile that Xie Lian didn’t hesitate to return. “Saps.”

“You’re one to talk,” Shi Qingxuan chirped from where she was leaning against He Xuan, who was sipping their drink and watching TV, not bothering whatever was going through the room now. “When is the food arriving? Xuan-er is hungry!”

“They are always hungry,” Mu Qing called back as the group all settled on the floor with snacks and drinks. Feng Xin crept between his knees to lean against his chest with a content hum. Xie Lian and Hua Cheng gave them a flat stare. “What?”

“You can tease us but we can’t tease you? Cheat.” Hua Cheng tuts.

“Welcome to our family, Hua Cheng!” Shi Qingxuan cheers and she raises her bottle of soju—where did she even get that? —above her head. “Yay!”

“When’s the wedding?” He Xuan inquiries and they almost smile at her kiss against his cheek. “Tomorrow?”

“Ha ha.” Xie Lian rolls his eyes. “We want to do it properly.”

Feng Xin’s laughter rumbles through Mu Qing, breaking him out of his musings. Pressing their heads together, Mu Qing breathes in the scent of their shared shampoo. Instinctively, he squeezes the hand that catches his. When he looks to the side, Shi Qingxuan is talking about something to He Xuan as they gaze at her with utter devotion. It had been a year since they started dating, hadn’t it? Mu Qing wonders if they would one day take it to the next level too or if they might part ways. Somehow the image of Shi Qingxuan with someone else was a bit weird. He was so used to seeing her with He Xuan who acted all cold towards everyone else but seemed to melt under her gaze.

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng have been together for quite a long and Mu Qing knows that they won’t love someone else like how they love each other. It was always known to them that those two would grow old together, married or not. He imagines Xie Lian in a festive suit, white to contrast Hua Cheng’s, obviously, red one. There would be flowers and maybe Mu Qing would be the best man, Shi Qingxuan their ring-bearer. It would be beautiful and the undisputable evidence of the three of them, all grown and living their separate lives after having grown up together all these years, would perhaps move him to tears.

A breath of air blown against his neck startles his attention towards Feng Xin’s smile. “One day,” he said, “let’s renew our vows. A proper ceremony.”

Affection blooms inside him and Mu Qing can’t stop his lips from pressing reverently against Feng Xin’s. “Hm. Yes. Next year?”

“Whenever you want.”