Archive of Our Own

“I resolve, beloved, to be for you the surface,
to be for your eyes only body,
to be for your tongue only rhythm.”

Myriam Moscona

There's a muffled cry, a voiceless plea for help, a tremor fading into the distance. It's like a murmur that cannot extend its intangible fingers far enough to reach him.

It's the raging current that rushes between narrow bends and crashes against the enormous stones scattered along its precipitous path. A river alive with a vigor that stands in opposition to him, while he remains painfully still, his face pressed against the hard, earthen ground.

He feels the familiar sting of a wound on his right cheek, the suffocating metallic stench of blood overpowering the muddy scent of the river and the scent of dew that still clings to the surrounding undergrowth. His head aches, his ears feel blocked, and his body, this flesh that burns and weighs upon him, doesn't feel like his own. Everything's so confusing.

Though he wants to open his eyes, his eyelids refuse to obey. Lying there beside the river, on the verge of brushing against its edge, his senses awaken sluggishly, and the painful throb at the back of his head begins to fade whenever he stops focusing on its persistence.

His memories return little by little, a sequence that strips him, thread by thread, of the fragments of relief he briefly felt upon realizing that he's still alive, that he has been given another chance.

The first thing that returns to his mind is the journey he undertook with his parents from the modest house where they live, far away from town and sheltered deep within a lush forest that has embraced them in its quiet refuge for generations. He remembers the exhausted, sickly face of his father, the noticeable strands of gray hair that was once a striking jet black, the color of the shadows gathered in the corners that the moonlight didn't caress with its whitish mantle.

Xie Lian couldn't bear to watch his father’s vitality fade before his eyes. His mother, powerless against the ineffective results of her traditional and homemade remedies, surrendered to the sorrow that dragged her shoulders downward, making her already fragile and petite figure appear even weaker.

As their only son, Xie Lian decided they had to go to town and find a solution, the smallest relief that would allow his father a single moment without pain, a moment in which the deep furrows carved by suffering across his brow would soften and give way to the gentle face Xie Lian remembered with tender affection.

Hearsay said that in the town nearest to the Xie residence lived the finest healer within hundreds of Li, someone who had never failed to restore the life of those standing at the precipice of death. Perhaps there was some exaggeration woven into the tale, perhaps it was nothing more than sensationalism and a greatness magnified by rumors, but Xie Lian would rather place his trust and hopes in this unknown healer than allow his father to die without having tried to save him one last time.

With the vivid colors of dawn fading from the sky to make way for dusk, Xie Lian and his parents began the long journey toward town. It had rained like a deluge recently; the sky itself seemed to be collapsing piece by piece, causing several landslides throughout the mountains they had to cross. The paths had become confusing, the earth slid beneath their feet with ease, and once night enveloped everything in its icy cloak, the inclement weather began to take its toll on his weary parents.

Xie Lian’s feet were swollen as well, but his face betrayed none of his exhaustion. He focused on supporting his weakened father by the arm, while his mother held him from the other side. The hours passed with torturous slowness, and the road remained an endless, winding serpent that they traversed with ever greater difficulty.

At one point along the path, the trail narrowed and the ground beneath them became even more slippery. Their feet sank heavily into the mud, and perhaps it was that which caused his father, caught somewhere between exhaustion and despair, to lose the little strength he had left and slip toward the edge of the path.

The three of them were bound together by limbs that refused to abandon one another. After his father’s fall, his mother followed, and Xie Lian after them. The descent came from a considerable height. Xie Lian felt parts of his clothing tear, his body crash against rocks and his sensitive skin scrape against the undergrowth and the bark of trees that failed to halt his fall.

With the fall of Xie Lian and his parents, much of the earth beneath them was eroded. The impact was so violent that the ground itself seemed to feel it, and the traces of their descent stretched as far as the eye could see. Now the three of them lay nearly lifeless beside the river, having tumbled down the mountain slope.

By the time Xie Lian manages to open his eyes, the scene tears his heart apart, seeing his parents consumed by agony. He struggles to recognize that the hand before him is his own, because his limbs feel numb and distant. Even so, he drags himself with difficulty across the damp earth and looks around. To his left lies the powerful current of the river, and ahead stretches a dense forest swallowed by silence. There are no signs of life for hundreds of Li in every direction. Everything's darkness, a merciless night where there's no sky and no gods to whom to beg.

Xie Lian wants to speak, to call out to his parents one last time, but his throat closes painfully. It's a nodule formed from sorrow and anguish, one that doesn't prevent him from continuing to crawl toward the forest in search of help for his parents, no matter how long the road ahead may be.

He hasn't moved more than a few steps when he hears something or someone approaching from behind. Xie Lian stops and, with a difficulty that makes his muscles ache, forces himself into a seated position so he can turn around.

He believes a star of hope has been sent by merciful gods and taken the form of the man standing before him. His eyes are dark, with a hint of crimson that Xie Lian believes is merely a creation of his dazed mind.

The man, tall and slender, approaches without haste. He casts an indifferent glance at the dying bodies of Xie Lian’s parents, then fixes his gaze upon him. His silence is terrifying, so bewildering that goosebumps rise across Xie Lian’s skin, and a premonition, the prelude to disaster, settles like a stone within his heart.

After a long moment, the man lets out a heavy sigh, yet the faintest trace of a sinister smile appears upon his thin lips, lending an even more frivolous air to his modestly beautiful features.

“These have certainly been difficult times. Who would have thought that such a feast would be laid before my eyes without me having to lift a finger?”

Xie Lian freezes. A torrent of icy dread washes over him for cruel seconds until he slowly regains control of his body. His hands sink into the soil, earth burrows beneath his nails, and his scraped knuckles, crimson stains spreading over pale skin, are a sight the man appears to savor, for the crimson in his irises deepens.

“W-Who… who are you?”

“My name is irrelevant. The question you should be asking is, what am I?”

Horror floods Xie Lian’s gaze, his mouth opening and closing in disbelief. Even if this is a cruel joke, even if this man wants to toy with his mind, the pieces fall into place one by one and lead to an unrealistic conclusion, the one that would give life to the tales he has heard since childhood about beings filled with hatred, resentment, and above all, a thirst for blood. Bastards of the night, outcasted by every single being in this earthly realm.

“I had forgotten how amusing it is to bother mortals.” The man says with his arms behind his back as he walks and analyzes Xie Lian’s parents with cynical scrutiny.

“D-Don’t hurt them…” Xie Lian says with a trembling voice.

The man is about to answer when Xie Lian’s mother slowly moves. As she tries to sit up, a groan of pain escapes her dry lips. Xie Lian makes a motion to go toward her, he's about to stand, but stops when he sees the man place his foot on her shoulder, pressing her forcefully against the ground.

A whirlpool of conflicting emotions fills Xie Lian’s chest, but desperation surpasses all others. He doesn't care about humiliating himself before a stranger, before someone without empathy, as long as his parents are safe. Before he can think his words through clearly, his mouth opens on its own and his request, selfless and filled with pain, escapes him.

“S-Save my parents… please.” Xie Lian begs, two salty trails running down his cheeks, unnoticed even by himself. He's as vulnerable as if he were opening his chest so that the man, or the being, could understand his desperation.

Without his parents, he'll be alone in this world, and there's nothing that terrifies him more than loneliness, having no home to return to, not receiving smiles overflowing with invaluable affection, not having two unconditional pillars to prevent his imminent collapse.

The man smiles at him mockingly. A long time passes, an interval during which his parents continue agonizing, his father breathing with heartbreaking effort and his mother trying to escape from beneath the man’s foot. Xie Lian’s face contorts with a pain that cannot be compared to that of his parents, and after obtaining a certain degree of satisfaction, the man slowly nods, without erasing the smile full of mockery and malice from his face.

There are no more paths, it's a dead end. Receiving this man’s help or resigning to death.

“Favors always have a price.” The man says, looking at him fixedly with those crimson irises that make Xie Lian’s heart beat like the gallop of a herd of wild horses fleeing from their pursuers.

“I’ll give you whatever you want… just help them, p-please, I’m begging!” Xie Lian’s voice has risen to the point that he's shouting. His last strength fades with the sound of his voice, which seems to crash against deaf ears.

The salty taste of his tears, the powerful smell of blood piercing his nostrils, his own helplessness, all come together to form a huge void that pulls him toward madness. At any moment, he's going to start hallucinating.

“You sure love your parents.” The man says flatly, giving a disdainful glance to his parents’ bodies. “Since you say you'll give anything in exchange, I've the perfect price for fulfilling your insignificant request.”

Xie Lian doesn't dare swallow or move a single muscle. He patiently waits for the man to be satisfied with torturing him and decide to speak.

“Give me your heart.”

His hope vanishes with the river water, the current that never stopped following its flow. Now his veins are channels of freezing water, painted the color of fear.

“W-What…?”

“Naturally, I’m being quite literal.” The man takes a bright, elongated object from the sleeve of his robe. With a dry thud against the ground that reeks of death, an old and rusted dagger falls in front of Xie Lian. “Give me your heart, I won’t repeat it a third time, unless you no longer want my help.”

Death lurks over the remnants of life. There's a twisted and detestable delight that bursts with the graceless laughter of that being, a vampire, it seems. Those creatures he had heard little about even at his age, those few dared to speak of without being judged by crowds.

The realization that there are things he never understood in life makes him close his eyes, exhausted by his grievances and thoughts that lead to misery. In the end, with no tears left to shed, with no words left to speak, he gives up his own life by slowly nodding.

He only remembers his trembling hands clinging to the dagger’s handle, the agonizing pain of the blade as it was driven in, his screams silencing the tumultuous current of the river, madness consuming everything.

At some point, Xie Lian can no longer keep moving, so the vampire finishes the work for him and obtains his part of the deal, the humanity that Xie Lian gives him while drowning among his last sobs devoid of strength.

Xie Lian keeps his eyes closed the entire time, but now the thread of life slips away from his consciousness, making him fall limp to one side. He faintly feels the man take his neck between his large, bloodstained hands, two sharp fangs biting into his smooth, almost cold flesh.

He has no strength to pull away or avoid it; his muscles go limp as the vampire sucks his blood. Between unfamiliar arms, in a grip born of instinctive hunger, Xie Lian dies for an instant.

After satisfying himself, the vampire smiles at Xie Lian’s motionless body, at the pale skin upon which dawn will never fall again. With some reluctance, the vampire bites his index finger and his heart, leaving a small, shallow wound on the phalanges, the seal of betrayal.

“In the endless night, you'll no longer feel tremors of life, there'll be no acceleration of joy, there'll be no contraction of sadness, you won't suffer the emptiness of uncertainty. You'll be the receptor of melancholy that only knows the satisfaction of blood.” His blood falls into Xie Lian’s half-open mouth, contaminating his body, from his veins to the last fiber of his being that has been cursed for eternity.

Xie Lian returns to life abruptly, with his wounds healed and with the emptiness in his chest perpetuated. When his eyes open, the vampire releases him without care and steps aside to allow him to see his parents agonizing a few steps away from them. He makes no attempt to save them; he never had any intention of doing so, only to condemn Xie Lian to the same life as his own and to witness his parents’ last breaths, which cease to give way to a horrifying, deafening silence.

The vampire beside him laughs without taking his eyes off Xie Lian, enjoying every moment of his suffering. His mouth is covered in blood, a sight that makes Xie Lian see everything red. The red of anger, of rage, of helplessness at being useless before a greater force. He doesn't want to feel this again in his life.

Even with his head spinning, even without being able to process his feelings, he lunges at the vampire and delivers a punch that finally gives some color to the being’s lifeless skin. What he didn't know at that moment was that vampires cannot break promises, and the last despicable wish of this being was to torture someone desperate.

Under Xie Lian’s grip, dripping with thirst for revenge, the vampire begins to crumble, piece by piece, ashes that return to dust. His smile is the last memory Xie Lian has of the one he's forced to call his formal sire.

With no one else left to love, hate, or blame, Xie Lian is thrown into a solitary debacle. A loneliness that takes him time to accept, until his sterile senses no longer taste the bitterness and the throes of ominous desolation in his chest cease.

Legends are not only legends, rumors can carry a certain degree of truth, and Xie Lian experienced firsthand that vampires have no heart, no feelings. Nor did it take him long, within the span of immortality, to understand another truth. Even with the mark on his neck, two holes that close sluggishly and indifferently to the passage of time, even with the emptiness in his chest where his heart once was, for some reason or because of his mortal nature that refused to leave him completely, Xie Lian never shares their darkness.

When the blue of the sky loosens to welcome the imposing moon, the faint glow of the stars fades before the blinding artificial light of the hundreds of lamps in town. In that distorted space, sheltered by the night, Hua Cheng takes form.

Darkness and shadows have been his allies for years, they've woven themselves together with his being, and because of that, he disappears easily within them. With his face covered, his jet-black hair tied in a high ponytail, and a dagger hidden against his chest, he dances among endless rooftops like dark lightning. His black clothing clings to his firm body, to the arms slightly toned by the time he has spent wielding a dagger, using his body as his greatest defense.

He slips between the houses, avoids the gaze of passersby, and commits acts of which he isn't truly proud, at least not as a person. His feelings are contradictory, since as an assassin his work is among the most celebrated, being the most rigorous and clean among those of his kind. He never causes commotion, he never dirties anything beyond the thin edge of his dagger. He has dedicated more than half of his life to being an assassin, and because of that, every movement possesses an elegant and precise nature.

Hua Cheng is a man of routine, certainly easy to identify, but even if someone has a grudge against him, they aren't foolish enough to face him one on one unless they seek death. Even so, Hua Cheng doesn't kill according to his own desires, but according to the wishes of whoever gives him a substantial and deserved payment.

His targets are names that are soon forgotten, faces he doesn't bother to look at for longer than necessary. With his dirty dagger wrapped in a cloth, Hua Cheng quickly gives notice that the job is done. After receiving his payment without delay, a small and heavy bag filled with coins, he changes his assassin’s clothing for another, no less understated, and removes the cloth from his face to reveal his wild beauty and let his long hair run free.

He makes his way to the small town where he has lived for the past few months. The streets are always crowded with people, life can be felt and breathed in every corner, and only then does Hua Cheng feel that he becomes part of society again, where everyone pretends to have perfect morality. Between alleys that wind through the bustle, there's his favorite restaurant. It's a modest establishment with decent food, enough to satisfy his stomach that has never known culinary delicacies. He cannot miss what he doesn't know.

On a table in a corner, where no one else bothers to sit because it's hidden and apart from the others, Hua Cheng sits heavily. He always orders the same thing, a bowl of noodles in spicy sauce and a small bowl of pieces of pork cooked in soy sauce. The owner of the restaurant brings his food in silence and gives him a short formal bow, which Hua Cheng returns without an exchange of words.

Even with his simple black-and-red robe and the patch over his right eye, he's certainly a handsome man. Equal to his beauty is a high wall around him that makes him inaccessible, even to the point of being labeled by some as stern.

He interacts with others as much as necessary, but he never allows them to enter deeply into his life, not even to cross the threshold of who he truly is. His joys and sorrows belong only to him, unable to be shared with someone else; his wounds, his moments of fragile humanity, are only tended to by solitude, and his stories are heard by the deaf ear of silence.

Ladies and gentlemen alike have tried to approach him, but Hua Cheng rejects them directly, firmly, leaving no room for ambiguous thoughts or romantic illusions. He's someone solitary who has never fallen in love, nor does he feel the lack of it in his life.

The people in town know little about Hua Cheng. They recognize him, he's a familiar face, and since he isn't someone belligerent, he often goes unnoticed and blends into the everyday scenery. For Hua Cheng, routine is a sense of comfort that does not bother him, and being part of it allows him to remain unnoticed.

Seeing the same places, the same people, doing the same things, dulls his interest in life in general and becomes more a matter of survival. Until a flower, of the purest white that the night can conceive, awakens in this small and boring town.

One day, late at night, while he finishes the food in his bowl, a slender figure with an elegant way of walking makes him glance over, but it isn't enough to satisfy his curiosity toward a new presence. He leaves the bowl on the table and gives a scrutinizing look to that man he had never seen before, not even by coincidence.

The man sits at the table beside the door, where orphaned children often panhandle. Sometimes the owner of the restaurant gives them the leftover wontons at the end of the day, when he's about to close, but, more often than not, the children aren't that fortunate. The man, with half of his jet-black hair tied in a small bun, watches them with compassion. It's such a transparent emotion in his eyes that Hua Cheng is surprised to recognize it immediately. He orders several bowls of noodles and a dozen wontons, without taking his eyes off the children.

Soon, he decides to crouch down to be at their height and greets them carefully, making sure not to frighten them or give them the wrong impression. He asks them trivial things that, for a moment, make the children forget their own situations and become excited while chatting with the kind man.

Their voices rise even with the bustle of the street and the restaurant itself, and Hua Cheng, from his seat, listens as the children compliment the stranger’s attractiveness. The neatness of his white robe, the white bandage around his neck, his face with delicate features, his thin eyebrows like the edge of the swords of the city’s warriors, his long and thick hair that blends with the clear sky of that night, the almost unusual pallor of his skin that rivals that of the moon. He's the vessel of beauty.

With his chin resting on his hand, Hua Cheng tacitly agrees with the children. It's certainly curious that such beauty, especially in a man, would appear in a nameless town like this and not in a great city.

“But Xiansheng, what’s your name?” a short-haired girl, no older than eight years old, ventures to ask upon seeing that the man doesn't seem to be pretending kindness.

“Surname is Xie, name Lian.”

“Mercy?” one of the children, the quietest but the most astute, tilts his head with curiosity.

The man nods and pats the child’s head as a form of praise. Under the attentive scrutiny of several pairs of bright eyes, with one of his slender fingers he writes the character of his name, “Lian,” in the dirt.

“That’s right, mercy.”

“I see, it makes a lot of sense!”

“What does mercy mean…?”

Of course, being orphaned children, they haven't received formal education. Most of them don't know how to read, and those who do can only recognize simple words. Even so, they all observe with the same attention the character that Xie Lian wrote in the dirt.

“Mercy means compassion, kindness.”

“I had never heard that word before…” one of the children whispers, and another silently agrees with a fearful look.

Xie Lian smiles sadly, and Hua Cheng believes he knows the reason. Something like compassion and kindness are things that a group of orphaned children would rarely know firsthand. With passersby walking over them with apathy, ignoring them or giving them looks of disgust, a gentle action like speaking with them or feeding them out of genuine goodness and not simply to get rid of them is an experience the children are unfamiliar with.

“It’s fine, there are too many words to learn, so let’s take it slow for now.”

“Yes, Xie Xiansheng!”

“How about you introduce yourselves now?”

The children speak at the same time, each one louder than the one before so that Xie Lian will pay greater attention to them. They all fight for his affection, for the affection he's generously pouring over them, without fear that there'll be nothing left for himself.

Even with so much noise, Xie Lian manages to discern what each one says and memorizes their names with an ease that surprises Hua Cheng, who's quite interested in the scene. In the months he has spent living in this town, he had never seen an adult speak with this group of children; no one had enough interest.

Among cheerful laughter that's the purest song, the owner of the restaurant appears at the entrance and clears his throat behind Xie Lian. He points politely toward the dishes on the table where Xie Lian had been sitting moments ago. Xie Lian gives a deep bow and, one by one, distributes the dishes among the children.

“I know it's not much, but take it as a sign of our friendship.”

“We are friends, Xie Xiansheng?” one of them asks timidly, refusing to accept the bowl Xie Lian extends to him.

“Of course we’re! Friends eat together, that’s a must.”

“Ooh…” the children exclaim in unison.

With Xie Lian’s permission and knowing they won't have to pay for the food, the children begin eating noisily, making a mess all around them. Xie Lian, however, is not bothered by it in the slightest and, without erasing the smile that brightens the routine atmosphere, gently pats the children’s heads.

“Be careful while eating, we don’t want anything to happen to any of you! I can always buy more if you wish so.”

With warm stomachs and sincere smiles, the children are no longer afraid to speak their minds.

“Please Xie Xiansheng!”

Empty bowls pass and return to be filled, again and again, until the mouths of the group of children are dirty with food and Xie Lian takes care of cleaning them carefully. Hua Cheng doesn't stop watching the scene with an inscrutable gaze.

What an interesting character you are, Xie Lian.

That situation wasn't a one-time wonder. The days became weeks, and every time Hua Cheng goes there, Xie Lian is there as well, talking with the children, feeding them, playing with them and even teaching them how to write some words. He never takes a bite himself, nor does he seem particularly hungry, as he gives no more than a couple of short glances to the dishes that exude steam and a delicious aroma that would make anyone’s stomach growl.

Every night, without fail, at the hour of the dog, Xie Lian arrives at the restaurant, orders the same thing as on the first day, and, with the help of some kind waitresses who look at Xie Lian with a certain shy charm, they help him pack the food into containers. He carefully places everything into a blue cloth bundle and distributes the food to more underprivileged people in town, with the group of children always behind him like little ducklings. When he gives food to those less fortunate, they seem to come back to life for a moment, remembering what the warmth of human empathy feels like, and Xie Lian loves life, despite everything.

Hua Cheng watches him return with the empty bowls and a slight smile of satisfaction. He even offers to help the owner clean the mess, apologizing to him for the inconvenience, but the man always firmly refuses to allow Xie Lian to dirty his slender hands.

“As long as you remain a loyal customer, that's enough for me!” the owner says, giving Xie Lian several strong pats on the back, and Xie Lian, despite his slender build, doesn’t flinch and laughs with the old man.

Hua Cheng listens to the conversations from within the silence that surrounds him and never misses Xie Lian’s gestures. Time distorts and loses meaning when he's sitting in his usual place at the corner of the restaurant, with his usual dishes now cold and tasteless, watching Xie Lian. He knows how he rubs his forehead when he feels slightly embarrassed, his habit of always looking into the eyes of everyone he speaks with, never being the first to look away. His calm way of speaking, the gentle tone of his voice that's an auditory lullaby before the chaos of the bustling streets, his affable gestures.

There's a sense of confidence in him that doesn't entirely match his youthful appearance, but that doesn't prevent Xie Lian from easily earning the affection of a large part of the community, as well as the annoyance of a few merchants and aristocrats who reject his benevolence, labeling it as a falsehood. When Hua Cheng hears those comments, he's quick to silence them with a firm and decisive phrase that leaves them speechless. No one dares to contradict him, not even as a joke.

In little time, Xie Lian becomes known and becomes part of the everyday, and certainly peaceful, nighttime life in town. When the sun covers every corner of the land, driving away the shadows, there's no trace of Xie Lian left, as if he disappeared with the first ray of sunlight. Although Hua Cheng isn't fond of assumptions, even less when it comes to Xie Lian, it's evident that he hides clues about his life beyond his gentleness and considerate behavior. He's someone warm, certainly talkative, and equally skilled at avoiding personal questions. Everyone has their own secrets that they wish to protect carefully, and Hua Cheng is far from being the exception.

By seeing him so often, Xie Lian recognizes Hua Cheng, but he doesn't dedicate more than a casual glance and a slight inclination of his head as a courteous greeting, never exchanging words. For Hua Cheng, that's everything, and it's also enough to satisfy the hunger for affection that Xie Lian awakens in him without being aware of it. There's a need that rises from within, a desire to approach Xie Lian, but he isn't sure how to do so, not after spending so much time voluntarily distancing himself from others.

How can he break a part of the wall he built around himself and open a space where Xie Lian can fit? It must be made to his measure, with an unconditional affection capable of slipping through the cracks of his inaccessible fortress.

No matter how much he plans it, when the moment arrives, his feet don't respond, and he cannot bring himself to rise from his seat and approach Xie Lian to speak to him once and for all. It isn't exactly fear that he feels; rejection or being pushed away don't matter to him, but rather a doubt about the first direct impression he might give Xie Lian.

The best opportunities present themselves when one least expects them, and one night, after finishing an exhausting job in a town not too far away, Hua Cheng isn't in a good mood, not even after filling his stomach that had been growling insistently throughout the long journey.

In the midst of his anger, Hua Cheng loses the small and old bag where he carries the few coins he earned in the past few days, since he didn't claim that day’s payment due to his own exhaustion. The previous jobs assigned to him had been trivial matters without notable pay, as he didn't have to deal with someone holding an important position in society.

He only notices the disappearance of the bag when he finishes eating and can think clearly after satisfying his hunger. The owner wants to tell him that he can let him pay later, knowing he's a loyal customer and a good payer, but Hua Cheng’s icy gaze, his dark and heavy anger directed at himself, even at life itself, make the owner press his lips into a line and limit himself to watching him search uselessly through his robes, even if only for a single bronze coin.

Hua Cheng curses for the seventh time when, at that very moment, four coins resonate through the empty restaurant as they are placed on the counter. Both the owner and Hua Cheng turn to the right to see Xie Lian, his white robes impeccable and his hair tied in a messy bun held by a ribbon of the same color.

Xie Lian turns toward Hua Cheng and gives a respectful bow, a kind smile making his face shine even with the little illumination of the place, since it is the hour of the pig.

“Forgive my boldness. Would Xiansheng allow me to pay for his dinner?”

Hua Cheng is surprised, so much so that his body stiffens, and his heart is overturned by a strange feeling, one he had never felt before, not until he saw Xie Lian for the first time several weeks ago.

Having him this close makes him dizzy, as if he were knocking out his senses like an intoxicating and addictive wave.

“I wouldn’t want to trouble Xie Xiansheng,” he says, discreetly clearing his throat to avoid swallowing.

Xie Lian lets out an airy laugh, moving his hand in a gesture to dismiss the matter. His carelessness is contagious, and Hua Cheng feels his shoulders loosen.

“The initiative was mine. Consider it a gesture of courtesy, please.”

Hua Cheng can no longer refuse. Although the burn of shame burns at his mouth, he eventually hums in agreement.

“Aiya, always so helpful, Xiaohuozi! I feel indebted to you, please accept this millet wine that has been stored in my cellar for a long time.” The old man, as if he had anticipated that Xie Lian would return at this hour, takes a small bottle from one of the cabinets behind the counter and extends it with a wide smile that deepens the wrinkles around his eyes.

Hua Cheng notices that Xie Lian is about to refuse; he sees it in the way he narrows his eyes, but after a brief moment of contemplation, he changes his mind and accepts the bottle with a deep bow.

“Thank you very much, Lǎobó. The one who's indebted now is me.” Xie Lian turns to look at Hua Cheng, surprising him for the second time that night, although outwardly he reveals nothing. “Xiansheng, would you mind sharing this wine with me? I'm not particularly good at drinking, and from what I have seen, you possess admirable tolerance.”

Once again, Hua Cheng is left speechless. He isn't someone devout, he rarely prays to the gods, nor did he expect a miracle, but for Xie Lian to admit that he has also been paying attention to him and wants to share some time together is something he never even considered, not even in the fictional scenarios he would lose himself in before falling asleep.

“What a good idea! Both of you are my two most loyal customers and deserve proper treatment. Please feel free to sit wherever you like; I'm not going to close the restaurant yet because of you.”

With the owner’s approval, Hua Cheng nods, and Xie Lian guides him to a table in the center of the empty restaurant, conveniently with two chairs facing each other.

“Sorry to prolong Xiansheng’s stay, I only found it appropriate to demonstrate the sincerity of my actions.” Xie Lian says, with a certain restraint suddenly appearing in his behavior.

Xie Lian doesn't seem to look at him for too long, preferring to distract himself with the table, the chairs, the bottle of wine, anything that isn't Hua Cheng’s imposing beauty. It's more than he can bear, at least until he becomes accustomed to it.

“Is... someone waiting for you at home?” Xie Lian asks as he places two cups on the table.

“Not really.” Hua Cheng lets Xie Lian sit first out of respect and then follows. “We’ve seen each other around but never got the chance to talk.”

Xie Lian’s beauty evokes tranquility; Hua Cheng feels it even more now that he has him in front of him and can speak directly, without any obstacle or contingency. Both exude eagerness, scrutinizing each other’s faces detail by detail, taking this as an irreplaceable opportunity, one they dare not waste.

Hua Cheng notices that Xie Lian’s brown eyes, under the light of the lamps, have lighter shades surrounding the pupils, two unfathomable pools of kindness in which he sinks.

“Xiansheng seems to enjoy solitude, so I never found the right moment to approach you.”

Hua Cheng opens the bottle and serves Xie Lian first. He fills both cups with the same amount, hoping Xie Lian won't get drunk. Xie Lian takes a short sip of the wine, and in the very next moment his features wrinkle at the strength of the flavor, which fails to be masked by the sweetness. Hua Cheng snorts, drinking the contents of his cup in one gulp.

“What a straightforward way of showing off your alcohol tolerance.” Xie Lian says playfully, and contrary to how he usually feels when someone is teasing him, Hua Cheng doesn't feel offended.

“With all due respect, Xiansheng, but around this area, millet wine is one of the first things people learn to drink. It makes me wonder if, where Xiansheng is originally from, drinking a milder wine is customary.”

Xie Lian gives a glance at his cup, which is still almost full, and then tilts his head. Every movement is closely followed by Hua Cheng, who cannot erase the soft smile that's a precious novelty for Xie Lian; because of that, he decides to play along.

“Is it a reason for mockery if I confess that I never became accustomed to enduring wine, regardless of its form?”

“Not at all. In any case, if Xiansheng wishes, it's never too late to learn how to drink.”

“So be it.” Xie Lian accepts with a slight nod, and, as a display of his commitment, drinks the rest of his wine in one gulp.

He seems on the verge of making a displeased expression at the burning sensation, but manages to remain composed. Hua Cheng is mesmerized, to say the least.

“By the way, how should I call you?” Xie Lian asks while filling both cups before Hua Cheng has the chance to do so.

“Everyone knows me as Hua Cheng, but Xiansheng can call me San Lang if you wish.”

Xie Lian seems to analyze the nickname, but quickly smiles at him and gives a short bow, as if this were truly the first time they had met.

“Nice to meet you formally, San Lang.”

Xie Lian doesn't introduce himself, and Hua Cheng has the feeling that it's because it's obvious he already knows who he is. So he isn't as discreet as he thought? Love affairs are harder than he thought… Though he doesn’t mind at all that Xie Lian knows about his fascination with him. He wants to be sincere, at least as much as he can through his actions.

The bottle doesn't contain as much wine as Hua Cheng expected; even so, the drowsiness it creates soon loosens their tongues, and they begin speaking animatedly, without bothering to acknowledge the presence of the restaurant owner.

"I'm just someone trapped by circumstances, although I ultimately have no complaints.” Hua Cheng says to evade the question about his occupation, and Xie Lian doesn't press him either. The answer even seems to be enough for him. “Many people despise routine, while for me it's an essential part of who I am.”

“In my case, I beg to differ. I don't usually stay in the same place for long. I like traveling, discovering new things, and interacting with different people. Perhaps it's because I haven't felt comfort in a long time, and… I unconsciously seek it.”

“In that sense, there's a confluence between us. We both seek to feel comfort and security.”

“I don't usually reflect on those matters, but now that San Lang mentions it, I admit it's true.”

The last drop of wine bids farewell to the vessel like a passing bird. Neither of them says it aloud, but they don't want the pleasant encounter to end. There's still so much to talk about, so many topics to explore, and time seems merciless toward them. Even the restaurant owner collects the cups not very subtly, a clear sign that it's time to finish.

Xie Lian looks somewhat embarrassed for having been speaking so animatedly for quite some time, unaware that Hua Cheng could listen to him for hours. His mellifluous voice is enough of a caress for his heart, which seems to beat only for and because of Xie Lian. He's the only one who gives life to his colorless existence.

“I hope we can see each other tomorrow, San Lang.”

“I hope so too. There's still more we need to talk about.”

Xie Lian seems excited by this, and Hua Cheng feels the same, unable to stop smiling like a true fool.

Since that evening, their daily encounters don't end with the finishing of tea, nor with the emptying of plates that only Hua Cheng eats after Xie Lian finishes distributing food in town.

Hua Cheng always tries to give Xie Lian his space, thinking that perhaps he's being too insistent, but Xie Lian, by his own will, goes toward him first thing upon entering the restaurant. The kindness within him prevents him from making a request he feels is selfish: asking Hua Cheng to wait for him. Because of that, Hua Cheng, who reads him like an open book, makes the same promise every day: "I'll be here waiting. I won't leave until you return.”

I'll wait until I can pronounce your name again. I'll wait like an impassive river for you, my moon, to return and illuminate my waters. I'll wait for you even when there's no light left to illuminate us and darkness shelters us.

On other days, Hua Cheng accompanies Xie Lian to distribute food, with the children following both of them among games, laughter, and a plethora of “Hua Xiansheng! Xie Xiansheng!” To end the day strolling through the streets that, in the small world created by both of them, are desolate, because they only have eyes for each other.

The trust and comfort they had each been seeking through separate paths joined together until they formed the same road, one that makes them inseparable. If they aren't close to each other, there's a sense of unease that invades them, as if a thread connected them. They search for each other with an eagerness that their feet can barely contain, steps becoming quicker, hungry for the presence of the one they long for most intensely as the days pass.

“Am I your gege?” Hua Cheng asks one day out of genuine curiosity, only because he knows Xie Lian won't tell him his age.

“I’m pretty sure not.” Xie Lian responds, laughing softly, as if the very idea were inconceivable.

“Why so sure?”

Xie Lian takes a while to answer. For the first time, there's doubt dancing in his gaze; his fingers tap against the table, and he's so uncertain that Hua Cheng feels bad for having asked.

“San Lang looks younger, that’s all.”

That draws a good laugh from Hua Cheng. He laughs so loudly that some diners turn to look at them. Xie Lian gets flustered and brushes a strand of hair behind his ear.

It's something amusing because Xie Lian doesn’t seem a day past twenty.

“Is it so funny?” Xie Lian lightly bumps Hua Cheng’s leg with his foot.

“It's indeed funny that you think I look younger than you, but alright, I’ll grant you this one. Let’s say you truly are my gege then.”

“How disrespectful, teasing your gege. Not even an ounce of respect for your elders.”

“If gege doesn’t like it, then San Lang won’t do it anymore.”

At the honorific that slips from his tongue with such ease and a naturalness worthy of belonging to a past life, Xie Lian hides his smile by pretending to cough behind the wide sleeve of his robe.

That’s enough answer.

Although they settle into a routine, there are times when Hua Cheng cannot stay through the entire night, since he has to go to work, and his favorite excuse is that he must attend to some “matters” that cannot be postponed. A part of his heart breaks when he sees Xie Lian form a small smile, one that fails to be a true reflection of his disappointment, and assure him that it's fine.

“Tomorrow will always come, and as long as night exists, we'll be able to continue seeing each other.” Xie Lian told him once with a certain restraint, the difficulty of pronouncing those words under Hua Cheng’s attentive gaze being evident.

Hua Cheng wants to do more for Xie Lian. He wants to make up for his absences with everything he can, so that Xie Lian has no doubt of how much he means to him, that feeling of interest that spread across the vast plains of his being until it became an attraction slowly solidified into affection, blossoming in the final stage of love.

Xie Lian is someone humble, and his lifestyle is consequently the same. He'll never say aloud what he wants, nor does he crave anything in particular, but as long as Hua Cheng breathes, as long as he's beside Xie Lian, he wants to make sure he lacks nothing. In that sense, he creates an elaborate mental list of different gifts he wants to give him and realizes the first obstacle.

Being an assassin isn't exactly a well-regarded occupation in society, even less so in a place as small as this town, where everyone knows each other and rumors run on their own legs, fueled by the morbid curiosity of novelty amid the everyday life that surrounds them. Therefore, he decides to take on an extra job, something more “honorable.” He doesn't intend to use blood-covered money to buy something for his gege. That would be disrespecting him.

Hua Cheng knows how to handle sharp objects in more ways than one, not limited to bloody ones, so he manages to find several jobs in town. No one finds it strange that he knows how to sharpen and clean them with expertise, not even flinching when his fingers directly brush against the edge. He gets several simple part-time morning jobs to maintain his low profile and take advantage of the fact that Xie Lian never appears until the sun disappears, so he has no fear of being discovered and gives good use to his time.

The first job is as a cook at a small establishment near a construction site, so by midday it fills with hungry and noisy customers. Hua Cheng doesn't consider himself a prodigy in the kitchen, but it isn't as if he's required to know how to cook food worthy of royalty. He also helps an old merchant carve bamboo to make utensils that he later sells at the market. The more bamboo Hua Cheng cuts, the more bronze coins he receives, so he works with diligence and unwavering concentration.

“You're a good young man. You work day and night without resting, I can see it on your face,” the merchant tells him one occasion, speaking endlessly by his side while Hua Cheng carves the bamboo with the old knife the man had lent him on his first day. “You should also allow yourself some time to rest. Or is it that you work this hard because of a special someone?”

Hua Cheng doesn't answer the question; his silence is enough of a response. The merchant smiles, building scenes of youthful love in his mind where the shadow of memories from a lively era still dances.

“Aiya, I get it. No matter what I tell you, as long as it makes that person happy, you'll keep doing what you do, hm?”

Every coin he spends on Xie Lian, whether it's on food or some trinket that still feels insufficient in his eyes, comes from the payment he earns through his various morning jobs. Xie Lian accepts everything gladly, sometimes even saying that it's more than he can receive, that he's taking advantage of Hua Cheng’s kindness and trust. To that, Hua Cheng refutes him with a simple phrase: “Gege shouldn’t say that. You deserve more than this.” Only then does Xie Lian, somewhat flustered and reluctant, accept them.

The passage of time becomes noticeable as nature sheds its summer garments to make way for the ochre tones of the following season, accompanied by cool breezes. Without realizing it, several months have passed since the first time they spoke. Now one of the most anticipated festivities of the year approaches.

Autumn festivals are quite popular, and although this is a small town, it doesn't fall behind. In the small square in town, the arrival of winter is celebrated with special food and activities that repeat every year without fail, yet somehow they always manage to entertain people and bring them together.

Hua Cheng usually skips the festival because he isn't interested in it, however, now that he has someone by his side, he wants them to go together. At first, he has the idea of being mysterious, but Xie Lian isn't someone who's easily fooled, especially when he's constantly speaking with the townspeople and they, neither shy nor lazy, tell him even the smallest piece of news.

“Would gege like to accompany me somewhere this weekend?” Hua Cheng asks as naturally as he can, both of them walking through the square that shines with people making preparations for the festival.

Well, perhaps he isn't the best at hiding things.

“Do you mean the festival?”

“Gege, it was supposed to be a surprise.” Hua Cheng sighs, pretending slight offense. “You should've pretended not to know anything.”

“Maybe San Lang simply doesn’t know how to give surprises.”

“Is gege challenging me?”

“Take it as you wish.”

Hua Cheng truly takes it as an opportunity to redeem himself and surprise him. The gift he plans to give is personalized, made to Xie Lian’s measure, designed with his favored colors in mind. He'll create it piece by piece with his own hands, hands that won't be stained with blood this time.

To buy the best materials, he works twice as hard, and when he sees Xie Lian, he's aware of the dark circles that reveal his exhaustion, but neither of them speaks about it. They let it pass like many other details about each other. With time, certain suspicions, truths dancing in the air, have quietly grown between them. Hua Cheng senses that there's a supernatural veil surrounding Xie Lian, one that reveals his distance from mortality.

Unconsciously, both of them keep pushing each other away softly to protect the walls they built with such care, because they don't want to lose the only person who appreciates them. They are connected without knowing it, their feelings are mutual, but it's easier to deny the possibility and not venture into a place where they could be hurt.

Even so, they don't push away the desire to constantly impress the other.

By the time the weekend arrives, Hua Cheng’s exhaustion is evident in his features, so he makes an effort to conceal it as much as he can with makeup that he rarely uses. He changes his simple robe for a more elaborate one designed to match the white robes Xie Lian habitually wears.

The robe isn't fitted to his body, its layers flow like white lotus petals sliding over his firm muscles, secured by a red belt. He also wears a white eyepatch and a crimson butterfly clasp fastened to the high collar of his robe. There are silver jewels tingling with every movement, from his boots, waist, and neck to the maple-shaped earring on his right ear. His hair is carefully tied into a high ponytail, imitating Xie Lian’s style. His figure cuts through the night, standing out against its darkness.

Although it isn't the most discreet thing, he places Xie Lian’s gift inside a lacquered wooden box that he designed himself as well. On the lid of the box, two engraved figures at the center draw attention: a crimson butterfly above a white flower. Despite its detail, Hua Cheng isn't completely satisfied, but he made the best use of his abilities.

They agreed to meet at the entrance of the main path of the small square, where the shadows don't ululate. There, he waits for Xie Lian, the box between his hands wrapped in a wide piece of cloth.

Several passersby look at him longer than necessary, some with flirtation sweetening their eyes, but Hua Cheng doesn't bother returning their gazes. His eye remains fixed on the path, where at any moment he'll see Xie Lian’s pale figure appear.

Just as the hour of the rooster is about to end, Xie Lian appears, but not as Hua Cheng expected. Everything about him is exquisite to behold, he doesn't know where to begin. Xie Lian had the same idea as him and, thinking of matching Hua Cheng’s usual colors, wears a burgundy outer robe with wide black sleeves that together grant him a shine like winter frost. His skin gleams like the snow that'll soon gather in the streets within a couple of weeks, and on the peaks of his cheeks rests a rosy shadow caused by a faint blush or the cold air announcing the change of season.

The drop of white in his appearance, in his inner robe and belt, gives him the touch of a wildflower, alluring on the outside but carrying a hidden level of danger within. As Xie Lian approaches, also scrutinizing Hua Cheng without restraint, Hua Cheng notices the small touch of crimson on the rims of his eyes, the work of some mineral pigment.

Seeing him like this, with evident care put into every detail of his appearance, unleashes a commotion within Hua Cheng’s heart. Thoughts that should have no place in his foolish mind take shape, and for a brief moment he convinces himself that Xie Lian looks this beautiful for him. Not because of the festival, not for himself to feed his own self-esteem, but because of Hua Cheng.

“Forgive the delay, San Lang.” Xie Lian fidgets slightly with the hem of his sleeve, noticeably embarrassed by wearing a style far removed from what he usually wears. Hua Cheng feels the same, but hides it better. “I didn't calculate my time properly when getting ready.”

“Gege doesn’t have to worry, I didn't arrive long ago.”

Hua Cheng reluctantly looks away upon realizing he has been staring at Xie Lian for too long. Unaware that Xie Lian had been waiting for him to do so only so he could look at him as well, stealing quick glances in case he was discovered, because neither of them can ever have enough of the other.

“Shall we go?” Hua Cheng offers with a gesture toward the square, where an outpouring of excited festive fervor can be seen in every direction.

Xie Lian nods, and together they walk at an unhurried pace among the rumble of drums coming from the masked dance troupe, the people to one side burning incense while making wishes with their eyes closed and the variety of street stalls offering an endless number of dishes.

There's tension in the air between them, one that both are unaware of due to being inexperienced in sentimental affairs, but which they diligently ignore in order to enjoy the festival.

Dinner consists of braised pork, chicken prepared with spices that Hua Cheng had only ever smelled as a child from the doorway of some middle-class restaurant, rice wine, turnips, and cabbages. This night also marks the first time he sees Xie Lian eat, although he only takes a few small bites of meat and a little rice.

“Isn’t gege hungry?” Hua Cheng asks with the impulse to fill Xie Lian’s empty bowl with food, but he looks as unaffected as always.

“I underestimated my stomach and ate more than I should have before leaving home.”

There is no reason to doubt his words, he doesn't feel entitled to do so, so Hua Cheng devours the dishes under Xie Lian’s fond gaze.

When they finish, they decide to end with zongzi, but, being rather late, they cannot find any. Xie Lian doesn't seem drawn to any food in particular, so Hua Cheng suggests tanghulu.

The tanghulu stall owner, who had grown accustomed to seeing the pair together every day, raises both eyebrows upon seeing the colors of their robes, as if they had exchanged outfits. They are certainly a peculiar sight.

“I see that both of you decided to make a small change in your clothing. It suits you!”

Neither of them comments on it.

“Two tanghulu, please.” Xie Lian asks kindly, searching through his robe for coins in order to focus on something other than the obvious.

“On its way!”

Hua Cheng carefully grabs Xie Lian’s wrist and moves it away, preventing him from continuing to search. Instead, he opens the palm of his free hand, and two bronze coins gleam within it.

“Let me treat you this time, gege.”

Perhaps it is Hua Cheng’s imagination, perhaps it's the air that seems colder than before, but Xie Lian’s cheeks take on another shade of pink. That doesn't take away even the slightest bit of his beauty, of course.

“Thank you.” Xie Lian smiles at him, and it's as if, from the vast ocean of night, the moon descended for a moment.

Hua Cheng remains dazed for a few seconds, enough time for the vendor to extend the tanghulu toward them, the sugar-coated candy gleaming beneath the street lanterns. Of course, in response to Hua Cheng’s kindness, Xie Lian eats the tanghulu. It takes him a little while to finish it, but in the end, he praises the flavor.

After watching the dragon dance that captured everyone’s attention as it took place in the center of the square, Hua Cheng and Xie Lian decide that it's time to return home. This time, Hua Cheng offers to accompany Xie Lian along the way to his home, at least for part of the journey.

They enter the forest that separates the town from nature, walking along solitary stone paths far from being inhospitable as they speak animatedly.

“Does gege know something about the children in town?”

“Oh, they must have been busy playing. They told me they had never attended the festival, so they were surely sneaking around from one place to another.” Xie Lian laughs softly at the mental image, and Hua Cheng cannot help but smile as well. That group of children managed to take a piece of his heart. “I'm glad to see how they regain the brightness of hope in their sweet and innocent gazes.”

“You've done what you can to help them.”

“I always want to do more, but I’m only flesh and can do so much…”

“I feel the same.” Hua Cheng lightly clears his throat and, in the most natural way he can, stops in the middle of the path to lower the crimson bag from his shoulder and extend it toward Xie Lian. “Especially with gege.”

“Oh.”

Xie Lian hadn't stopped looking at the bag on Hua Cheng’s shoulder, but he didn't want to be imprudent and preferred to wait for the right moment. Now, with the gift in his hands, embarrassment overwhelms him as he carefully unwraps it.

Hua Cheng’s heart thunders against the prison of his chest, the hands behind his back glisten with cold sweat, and he doesn't take his gaze away from Xie Lian’s face, from every single expression.

“San Lang…” Xie Lian whispers, running his fingers over the drawings on the lid of the box. “This is truly wondrous, I…”

The words die in his mouth when he opens the box and sees a thick coat. Hua Cheng decides to help him and takes the box into his hands, their fingers brushing momentarily, a nearly imperceptible breeze. Xie Lian takes the white padded silk coat and loses himself in the details of the golden embroidery and the cotton inner lining.

“Gege always looks quite pale, so I thought it must be because of the cold. Even more so because winter isn't far away.” Hua Cheng takes the coat delicately and places it over his shoulders. A river of stars reflects in Xie Lian’s gaze, his eyes watery from being moved. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Thank you. I mean it, San Lang.” Xie Lian squeezes the softness of the coat, enjoying its quality worthy of royalty. He even puts on the heavy hood that almost completely hides his face, but is not enough to conceal his beautiful brown eyes. “I also prepared something for you.”

Hua Cheng raises both eyebrows, a gesture that, in a way, enhances his attractiveness. Xie Lian gets immediately flustered and waves his hands quickly, slightly panicked.

“C-Close your eyes first!”

Although Hua Cheng wants to tease him a little more, he complies and closes his eye. He listens to the rustle of Xie Lian’s clothes, the sound of his fingers searching for something inside his robe.

“You can open it now.”

Before him, Xie Lian extends a painted leather sheath in the crimson color that represents Hua Cheng, with black details decorating its entire length in exquisite patterns. Being the weapons enthusiast he has always been, Xie Lian spent his mornings during his seclusion dedicated to making the sheath without knowing the exact measurements of the dagger, relying only on his visual estimation.

“I’ve seen the dagger you always carry with you. It’s risky for it to be covered only with a cloth, so I thought it would be appropriate to make a matching sheath…” Xie Lian explains after receiving no reaction.

Hua Cheng takes the sheath and removes the dagger hidden inside his belt. Only the gleam of the hilt remains visible, where the words “karma butterfly” shine, engraved long ago. This is the dagger given to him by the man to whom he swore loyalty when he was still too young and searching for an opportunity to make a name for himself. It was the first gift he had ever received in his entire life, which is why, ever since then, he has carried it with him as the living memory of the first decision he ever made.

When his benefactor died, Hua Cheng didn't feel capable of swearing loyalty to someone else, at least not in the sense of repaying blood with blood at their command, nor offering his life for someone else without hesitation. From that day onward, he has only been loyal to himself, working for a reward that, on many occasions, is modest, enough only to survive.

After meeting Xie Lian, the infinite devotion he had never known belongs exclusively to him. He has something to lose, a fear, a desire, a reason to wait for the next day to arrive so he can see him, speak with him. Those moments by his side gave meaning to a life that had always been defined by the simple goal of survival, living in order not to die.

He's so grateful that his throat closes and he cannot speak. He isn't sure whether his emotions are evident on his face, because Xie Lian looks at him with anticipation tinted by a hint of hesitation.

“If you don’t like it I can make another one, of course, o-or maybe buy one in the market. I’ve seen several-“

“Gege.” Hua Cheng interrupts him in a low voice, taking a step toward him. Xie Lian makes a motion to step back out of instinct, but manages to stop himself in time. “I've never received a gift as beautiful or as valuable as this one. I appreciate it even more because it was made by your own hands.”

“How can you say such embarrassing things just like that…? Do you intend to make me get flustered?” Hua Cheng laughs, and Xie Lian shakes his head, although the corners of his lips soon begin to lift. “I could say the same thing about you. This coat seems to be the work of the most experienced tailor on this land.”

“With you, I am as honest as I can be, believe me. Thank you, truly. I'll treasure it and protect it with my life.”

At some point, the two of them had shortened the distance between them, small and imperceptible steps, but in the middle of the silence it's noticeable how much closer they are from each other. Standing this close, it's even more evident how Xie Lian has to raise his head to look at Hua Cheng, the difference in height shining in all its glory.

Before he can regret it, Hua Cheng sighs and crosses the empty space between them without resistance, moving closer to Xie Lian and embracing him. His arms wrap around Xie Lian’s shoulders to hold him against his body, only in case Xie Lian rejects him immediately.

In reality, Xie Lian goes limp under his touch, even leaning against him. With his cheek pressed against Hua Cheng’s body, he listens to his frantic heartbeat, one that Xie Lian feels echoing in his empty chest, the most honest display of the love he feels for him. Even so, he refuses to accept that those heartbeats are because of him; rather, he attributes it to the situation itself, simply because it's emotional.

Xie Lian lowers his lashes as he feels a warmth improper to his nature, yet overflowing with innocence, coloring his cheeks. It isn't exactly embarrassment that he feels, but something deeper, a feeling that tangles itself within the space of his heart, sinking its roots and piercing through his lonely being that now knows the warmth of another.

He swallows before placing his hesitant hands over Hua Cheng’s shoulder blades. His outstretched palms seem to receive the burning heat of his skin, one that cannot be hidden by clothing nor absolved by the cold of one of the last nights of autumn.

Hua Cheng closes his eyes for a moment, if only to lose himself in the moment, and slides one hand to Xie Lian’s slender waist. His fingers wrap around it completely, and Xie Lian flinches slightly, if only for a moment. It seems he remembers that this is the touch he has longed for in dreams and fleeting fantasies.

Love hurts, sometimes it wounds when given so freely, without conditions. Yet Xie Lian clings tightly to Hua Cheng. He silently begs for Hua Cheng’s embrace to reduce him to dust, to hold him so fiercely that the only thing left within his heart will be a boundless love, greater than his flesh, greater than the soul he believes he still retains after death.

Hugging in the middle of the forest, the bustle and lights of the festival manage to filter through the dense foliage, but within that small world of two lovers, each burdened by their own doubts that keep them from confessing their love aloud, the outside world fades away.

Hua Cheng's heart, which has never been trodden upon by anyone passing through his life, which knows nothing of heartbreak, longs for Xie Lian with agonizing fervor. This embrace is probably the greatest display of physical affection that'll ever exist between them, which is why he savors every second until they pull apart reluctantly.

Their hesitant gazes don't meet again, and their mouths utter only words far away from the subject they struggle not to touch. At one point along the way, Xie Lian stops and, somewhat embarrassed, tells him that his house is nearby and that he can continue on his own. Hua Cheng wants to insist, to make sure he gets there safely, but in the end, as always, he simply nods, and their paths part.

That night, Hua Cheng makes a decision. A couple of days ago, he received a generous payment, enough to retire and stop being an assassin. He wants to live a quiet life, sweetened by the comfort of a routine that includes Xie Lian in every little thing.

He looks at his dagger one last time, the sheath concealing its deadly blade. He's certain of his decision. He reaffirms it by pressing the dagger against the left side of his chest, over his heart. He's prepared to leave that life behind in order to keep Xie Lian safe, to make him happy, and to devote his entire being to him.

Lost in the quagmire of his thoughts, he hears the crack of a branch snapping behind him, only a few steps away. His first instinct is to draw his dagger, but he feels a blow strike his back. A cowardly attack.

He turns around with his arm outstretched, the blade pointed at his opponent, unsure whether he's facing someone formidable. Upon seeing the man before him, clad in a fitted black robe and a cloth covering his face, he cannot help but scoff.

His opponent doesn't have time to attack. With a spinning kick, Hua Cheng knocks the dagger from the man's hand, sending it flying several paces away into the undergrowth. The man furrows his brow, prepared to engage in hand-to-hand combat, but Hua Cheng lunges at him and grabs his wrist with tremendous force.

A sharp crack echoes through the solitude of the forest as he snaps the man's wrist, the limb now hanging limply in pain. His opponent is easily thrown off by the pain inflicted on him, and that alone confirms to Hua Cheng that he's a novice.

Another assassin emerges from the foliage and attacks, the blade of his dagger aiming at Hua Cheng's torso. A wound to the lungs or the heart is enough; Hua Cheng knows this from experience. That's why he moves with his characteristic speed, dodging each attack until he lands a precise blow on a vital area the novice has overlooked.

Do they no longer send experts? Are they overrun with novices they need to get rid of?

Hua Cheng finishes them both with ease, clean cuts. He doesn't bother to hide the bodies, simply leaving them to one side. This is partly due to the kind of indifference he's cultivated as an assassin, and partly because one of the bastards managed to wound his shoulder.

He doesn't consider himself immune to pain, only far too familiar with it. Even so, it's strange that he hadn't noticed the wound or the blood slowly seeping from it. A youthful thought crosses his mind, so saccharine that it makes him scoff at himself, yet he doesn't push it away. Perhaps love can overcome pain.

It's this notion that keeps him sane as he tends to his wound within the suffocating confinement of his small house, the kind that buries him alive. Within those four walls, there's no one to properly dress the moderately deep cut on his shoulder, so he does it his own way, somewhat carelessly, accustomed to such things. The marks of violence lie dormant along the various paths of his body, sordid reminders.

The following night, when he meets Xie Lian, everything else fades away in his presence. He pays so little attention to the wound that he doesn't notice the slight shift of his outer robe, left slightly loose so it won't brush against the injured area. He doesn't realize a gaze settled on the strip of exposed skin, white bandages peeking out from underneath.

“San Lang! Who did this to you?” His hands move on their own, and with two gentle fingers Xie Lian pulls aside the robe, revealing the white bandages that run from his shoulder down across part of his chest. “Are you alright?”

There isn't a trace of discomfort or pain on Hua Cheng's face, but Xie Lian cannot help worrying. Strong or not, his San Lang's well-being will always matter to him.

“Gege doesn't have to worry,” he assures him, but that does nothing to ease the hint of distress in Xie Lian's expression. With a quiet sigh, he decides to say a little more. “The ones responsible are now underground, rotting with the worms.”

His expression turns cold for a moment, restrained anger flickering in his obsidian eye. That dangerous, intimidating aura sends a tingling sensation through Xie Lian's lower abdomen.

Xie Lian isn't naive. He knows Hua Cheng is involved in dangerous matters that could cost him dearly in the long run, but he has no intention of being the one to stop him or interfere with his path. Unaware that he's the calm that slips into Hua Cheng's sleepless nights, the soothing balm that numbs his afflictions.

Xie Lian closes his eyes for a second. His hand remains on Hua Cheng's shoulder, which he strokes in soothing movements, careful not to cause him any more pain. There's a lingering scent of blood, one only someone like Xie Lian could smell. It stirs the cursed instinct struggling to resurface, but he focuses on keeping it under control, and by the time he opens his eyes, there's no trace of his internal battle.

“Be careful. Don't get hurt anymore.”

“I promise.” The veil of anger surrounding Hua Cheng vanishes at that instant, making way for the return of his gentle tone.

“I've a special ointment at home to help the wound heal. I promise I'll bring it tomorrow.”

“Gege doesn't have to trouble himself, but I can't refuse such concern.”

As he covers the bandages with his robe, the subject is laid to rest, though other budding ones continue to prick at them.

Both of them have a confession lodged in their throats. Love overflows from their gazes, yet the insecurity they share is much the same. Neither is certain whether the other could return their feelings romantically, or whether it would be too selfish to confess their love when each has their own reasons for keeping it unspoken.

Xie Lian thinks it would be improper to tell Hua Cheng that he likes him, all the more because Hua Cheng is mortal and has no idea that he's being bound to eternity. Hua Cheng deserves a mortal family, a mortal love, not to be condemned alongside a being of twisted nature like himself.

For his part, Hua Cheng feels that his unsettled debts as an assassin are far removed from the safety of a home that Xie Lian deserves. He needs to protect him, to keep him away from filth, and an assassin who has someone he loves, someone he fears losing, will be seen as having a weakness. He won't forgive himself for putting Xie Lian in danger. Not yet. First, he must make sure that no one will come looking for him again, that his legacy is buried in the annals of oblivion.

In the middle of town, with merchants gathering their products and passersby walking hurriedly to return home, the golden and bronze lights of the hanging lanterns on the eaves gild Xie Lian with a sheen of warm light, no warmer than the way they look at each other.

Like two fools in love, they smile softly at each other, making the other believe that nothing is happening, when in reality there are feelings stuck in their chests and pupils, fighting not to tremble. Although their gazes bear witness to the immensity of the affection they feel for one another, their stubborn hearts believe it isn't enough proof of a love that goes beyond friendship.

In the end, what comes out of their mouths is far from the words that are a painful knot to undo in their throats, so they force other phrases to come out.

“It’s getting late, the streets are dangerous these days.” Xie Lian says, somewhat away from Hua Cheng so he doesn't feel the smell of blood piercing his sensitive sense of smell.

“Won’t gege like me to accompany him to his house? Or somewhere nearby?”

“It’s fine, San Lang. I’ll walk fast, and you should be careful too.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be.”

Hua Cheng gives a short bow and walks away, but Xie Lian remains standing a few steps away, with no signs of moving in the opposite direction. He watches Hua Cheng disappear between the half-open lips of town, dark alleyways as the lights gradually go out as the hour of the pig comes to an end.

Xie Lian refuses to let the night end, to let it slip through his fingers once again. He cannot spend another day without getting these feelings out of his chest. He believed he could continue living on longings, but he needs the breath of relief and certainty, obtain an answer, whatever it may be, and accept it.

He hides his hands beneath the enormous sleeves of his robe, and, with his cheeks slightly flushed, the impulse to follow Hua Cheng strikes him like a wave that drags him toward him. He lets out one last sigh before beginning to walk in the same direction where Hua Cheng disappeared.

At first, his steps are measured, but as the tingles prick every part of his body, as if he still retained the joy of life, he quickens his pace to the point of believing he's running and his nonexistent breath becomes labored.

The town has not felt this labyrinthine in the months he has been there. It's only now that every place seems winding as he tries to find the one who he wishes to declare his love to. Behind that invisible wall separating them, Hua Cheng’s path was blocked by a group of assassins who had been waiting for his appearance.

Everything makes sense now. That important payment from last time, the money resting in a hiding place in his house, was the consequence of having assassinated someone important, an aristocrat from the great city. The old man's death caused an uproar that shook the threads that had been woven together under the same purpose of ending Hua Cheng. Independent assassins, assassins belonging to an aristocrat, sordid assassins without values of their own, all the filth united against him.

“Finally alone.” one of the men says, playing with his dagger, the blade hidden beneath the dark cloak of the alley.

Hua Cheng is calm, his grip firm around the hilt of his dagger. His eye analyzes his opponents, each one motionless, waiting for the first move to be made by the one who seems to be the self-proclaimed leader.

One of the blades of the enemy daggers cuts through the air beside his abdomen as Hua Cheng manages to dodge the attack, and the other finds only empty space beside his neck. Hua Cheng counters by burying the edge of his dagger into the soft flesh of one of his enemy’s thighs. He drags it downward with force, opening a wound that makes the man hiss in pain, though the man doesn't waste time returning the gesture and injuring his forearm.

In the cramped space, fleeting, murky shadows move swiftly. Hua Cheng glides with long strides and turns, never losing sight of his enemies. With bated breath, he focuses on wounding two of them in the legs to slow their movements.

From the group's violent persistence, it's clear they don't intend to let him leave alive. Blood is paid with blood, that's how this world works.

When Hua Cheng has one of his opponents cornered against the wall and the blade of his dagger cleanly slices across the enemy's neck, a strong grip tightens around his neck from behind, a forearm cutting off his breath. His face takes on a different hue from the lack of oxygen, but he manages to redirect his dagger and attack the man behind. He plunges the blade hard into his enemy's abdomen, who, despite growling, doesn't loosen his grip.

He's about to break free when another of the assassins drives his dagger deep into Hua Cheng's stomach, and yet another reopens the wound in his shoulder. The drops of blood that had been falling like dew transform into crimson channels that run down Hua Cheng's soaked robe, spilling pain and death.

The assassins release him, and Hua Cheng spits out blood. His first instinct is to look down and pull the dagger from his abdomen. On the blade, mixed with his blood, there's a trace of something else.

He knows it's aconite extract immediately because of the lack of a pungent smell, because of how it enters his system unnoticed without much pain at first, only to attack him mercilessly the next instant. It isn't the fastest or cleanest way to assassinate someone, but it's one of the most painful, as it pulverizes every trace of vitality from within.

“What a disgrace for so-called assassins to use such a cowardly method.” Hua Cheng spits with disgust, staggering until his back hits the wall of the alley.

“We had to defeat you by any means necessary.” The only man who speaks gives him a long look, enough to make sure he's going to die soon. “The debt has been settled.”

Hua Cheng doesn't know when the group disappeared or which direction they took. The blood loss makes him dizzy, blurring everything. No matter how hard he clings to the wall, he slips to the floor and falls miserably. The familiar scent of blood fills everything around him, even when he closes his eye, the darkness behind his eyelid is scarlet.

His head spins. The pain that once seemed confined to his shoulder now spreads to every part of his body that succumbs to the poison, leaving nothing untouched. It's such a disgusting and utterly helpless sensation that all he can do is spit out more poisoned blood and clutch the wound in his stomach, pressing so hard he curses from the burning.

He thought he had become strong enough, that nothing and no one could stand in his way. He never saw love as a reason to become weak, but rather as his strength. Yet everything in this contradictory life, sweet and bitter, cruel and merciful, comes to an end.

Hua Cheng wanted to live peacefully for once in his life, to live somewhere far away from everyone else with Xie Lian, to make him happy, to please him. And whenever either of them grew tired of domestic life, they would set out to explore what lay beyond the mountains, find where the sun rises, cross through the northern desert, and end up at the unimaginable borders of the salty sea.

Being there, losing consciousness in an unremarkable alley of an equally unremarkable town, he smiles bitterly, an action that costs him terribly. What a fool. How foolish to think that he could atone for his sins under the judgmental gaze of the gods and allow himself to live alongside the only person to whom he had consecrated his love.

Even on his deathbed, all he can think about is Xie Lian.

I know you aren't like the others, like us, like me. You walked outside the words of the stories, materialized among legends, and granted me the glory of knowing you, even though I could never call you mine. You are what I never fully got to have, the illusion my hands never held, the impossibility that will now be suspended eternally in my world. There's a chimera called “you,” Xie Lian, my dear gege.

The intense scent of blood guides Xie Lian to the scene, and it isn't just any blood, it's that sweet, tempting blood that his senses refused to forget. After having smelled Hua Cheng’s blood, there’s no way he can mistake it for another’s.

Xie Lian runs toward Hua Cheng upon seeing him in a corner of the alley, dangerously lifeless. His adrenaline makes desperation overwhelm him, and he falls to his knees beside Hua Cheng. His trembling hand touches Hua Cheng’s neck, warm skin that receives him without a good omen.

With difficulty, Hua Cheng opens his eye. It takes him a long while to focus on the figure before him, judging by his silence, and Xie Lian parts his lips to say something until a moment of clarity illuminates Hua Cheng and he pronounces a word that manages to shatter Xie Lian.

“Gege…”

Hua Cheng’s breathing is labored, as if remaining alive itself hurts, but he clings to life, clings to the two dark pools filled with stardust that look at him with desperation and sadness.

“San Lang… you said you wouldn’t get hurt anymore.” Xie Lian’s voice sounds so low that it's even pitiful, but there are no witnesses nearby, not even the moon has shown them any compassion, hidden behind grayish clouds. “Y-You promised me…”

Hua Cheng’s handsome face, the one that always brought him so much security, is now devoid of life. His eyelid looks heavy, as if keeping it open takes effort, and even so, his bloodless lips curve into a weak smile, dedicated to the only person he has loved unconditionally, the one he refuses to abandon.

“How can you keep smiling?” Xie Lian says in disbelief, clinging more tightly to Hua Cheng, as if he wanted to merge with his body, to follow him into the beyond, the unknown after life, where he couldn't cross.

Wherever you go, I'll go. I'll follow you to the ends of the world, of life. Just… don’t leave me here all alone. I can’t take it, I can’t. How can I keep being here, in this earthly plane, without you? How can I rid myself of the habit of having you by my side? You said you adored habit, routine, so why are you breaking it? Why don’t you take me alongside you?

“I don’t want to see you sad because of me…” Hua Cheng murmurs so quietly that Xie Lian struggles to understand his words.

“How could I not be sad? I’m losing you in my arms…”

A tear gathers at the corner of his eye, about to escape. Hua Cheng spends his last energies raising his hand and cradling Xie Lian’s face. He wants to wipe that bitter drop away with his thumb, but he has no more strength to move. Powerlessly, he watches his gege be consumed by sadness and desperation.

“I’m sorry…” he murmurs with a broken voice, the hint of a smile barely stretching the corner of his lips. “I couldn’t keep that promise. Even so, I… I can’t keep breaking the promises I made to gege…”

His words are cut off as he spits out a blood clot that ends up further dirtying his black robe. Xie Lian tightens his grip on Hua Cheng’s shoulders, one of his hands wrapping around his, increasingly colder under his touch that's eternally frozen by nature.

His coat, the one Hua Cheng gifted him, fills with blood. The white fabric with golden embroidery is painted with a crimson so dark that it's alarming. He doesn't care about damaging the coat if that means saving Hua Cheng. The reality is clear, even though he doesn't want to accept it. He clings to denial so as not to give way to a possibility that terrifies him.

Does he truly have the audacity to condemn Hua Cheng, the only person he loves in this world, the only person who has been by his side, with the torturous and penitential immortality? Is that the only path of salvation?

Xie Lian squeezes his eyes shut, his trembling hands move clumsily over Hua Cheng’s chest, he tries to stop the bleeding uselessly, but the fabric keeps becoming damp and the stain spreads everywhere.

The blood makes him dizzy, suffocates him with a grip lacking any mercy. His pupils dilate and his fangs slowly escape their hiding place.

Then, with guilt corroding his conscience, he remembers when he accidentally eavesdropped on Hua Cheng praying that time at an old and abandoned altar.

One night, after having spent long hours conversing in the restaurant and with the drowsiness of the wine upon him, Xie Lian laughed without fear, a wide smile carved into his beautiful face, and Hua Cheng talked so much that his low and deep tone rang in Xie Lian’s head and ran in circles through his mind only to unfold freely and fill him with the timbre of his voice.

They were so full of each other that at some point their fingers began to brush against each other while walking. Under normal circumstances, they would have discreetly pulled away to regain their personal space, purposely avoiding seeing the other’s reaction, unaware of the reciprocal feelings that had matured to the point of being undeniable for each of them.

In one of the most desolate areas of the city, where the path was cobblestoned and the weeds reclaimed what was theirs, there still remained a small temple on the verge of collapsing.

Xie Lian was curious about why Hua Cheng showed devotion to that place, but he didn't dare inquire, even with alcohol filling his system. Hua Cheng told him that he was going to make a short prayer and would return soon. At first Xie Lian listened to him, but in his state, time lacked meaning and his feet moved against his will.

His clumsy steps made him trip over a stone. His vision spun before he avoided falling when his hands sought to support themselves on the cracked wall of the temple. Being there, Hua Cheng’s voice, unconcealed and firm, flowed into his ears and his words made him regain some sobriety.

“I don't seek salvation or mercy for my soul, redemption is beyond my reach, but… if I'm still worthy of being heard by the omnipotent divinity, I beg to never rest in peace if that means being by his side forever, even if it's only as his companion and protector.”

Xie Lian was confused. That prayer was so personal and brutally honest that a sting of guilt over the intrusion settled in the space between his ribs where his heart once was.

He never thought about that situation again, he hid it in the deepest parts of his mind to try to forget it. Now it returns with the same clarity with which Hua Cheng has always looked at him.

Yes, this mysterious man carries a strange aura, perhaps even a heavy one, and his words before others tend to be far from sincere. With Xie Lian, that prospect changed, and within that dark iris flowed an immense appreciation that threatened to overflow.

Among erratic breaths, a hand squeezes his own. The reverie merges with reality, Xie Lian focuses his gaze once again on the chaotic scene unfolding in Hua Cheng’s abdomen, and with fearful hesitation he moves up until he settles on that obsidian eye that looks at him with infinite adoration.

“Gege…” Hua Cheng calls him in a low voice upon seeing Xie Lian between commotion and panic. It tears his soul apart to see him like this. “I won’t leave you, I refuse.”

Everything falls into place at an alarming speed and Xie Lian is overwhelmed by the recent discoveries, his feelings that have fought so hard to end and the damned instinct awakened by the blood flowing before his eyes.

“San Lang… i-is it true? You really don’t want to rest in peace? You pray to never… to never leave me?”

The words come out of his mouth with difficulty, but he feels a slight air of relief undermine his chest.

Hua Cheng blinks once, so slowly that it's torturous to witness. In the end, he nods with a firmness improper for his dying state, the same firmness and certainty that he always had in life and that attracted Xie Lian as he fell deeper into that love settled in what was once the heartbreaking, twisted emptiness of his chest. He gives a name to that desolate emptiness, the word to which he clings fiercely, his San Lang.

Hua Cheng can be weak before anything or any situation, but when it comes to Xie Lian, to his gege, to this man he loves with insanity, there's no room for doubt.

“I do…” he whispers in a thread of voice, coughing blood before the fierce effort that takes away his last remnants of life.

Being someone who had lost so many people while being mortal, Xie Lian did not feel deserving of receiving indulgence as an immortal. For him it was nothing more than a punishment imposed by the betrayal caused by desperation.

His own feelings had no place in his life, he refused to recognize them. Much less did he expect any kind of reciprocity. Being loved also by Hua Cheng, beyond the bond of friends that he convinced himself was a limitation, a chimera, the illusion and the unrealistic dream unlikely to happen, but in the incorrect circumstances he found the answer to his grievances, the benevolent clarity before the passage to death.

Hua Cheng feels the same, that's why there's no desperation in his last laborious breaths. The last thing he wants to see is Xie Lian, even if he seems to suffer a pain similar to his own.

“Forgive me… please forgive me.” Xie Lian says in a whisper while bringing his face closer to his neck.

He doesn't dare keep his eyes open when he bites, doesn't dare let too much blood enter his mouth. On his tongue, the blood tastes like bitter dread. The liquid trickles down the corner of his lip, but his fangs dig deeper, piercing flesh and ensuring the vampire's incisive mark stands out on his neck.

Xie Lian pulls away, tears welling in his eyes, and takes Hua Cheng's dagger, which had lain to one side like a bitter reminder. That same dagger, once used only to bring death, is now used to give life, a second chance.

He cuts his palm, a diagonal line painfully slicing across his pale skin from one side to the other. It's a wound that'll never fully heal, a mark that'll become intertwined with his body and the soul he believes he still possesses in a corner of his cursed being.

Vampires can heal with a speed granted by magic, but the wound of the pact is something that will remain forever in his body. A vampire cannot break a promise; if it does, it'll return to dust, disappear, just as happened to his former sire so many centuries ago that he cannot recall the details clearly.

The wound seals a pact, the one of eternal devotion and an unbreakable bond. It's the pact that Xie Lian never received from his sire, but that he gives to Hua Cheng without doubt. The thick and dark blood begins to come out, Xie Lian puts his hand in Hua Cheng’s mouth and gives him to drink from the source.

Hua Cheng no longer has strength to move, the agony drains him, but drop after drop slips inside his mouth. The bitter metal floods his almost extinguished senses and Xie Lian’s brown eyes are the last thing he sees before giving his last breath. Catatonic spasms don't strike him, his chest only stops moving and his hand that had remained over Xie Lian’s, his unconditional support, slips and falls inert to one side of his body.

Inside the dark and silent thickness of the night that once cemented his life, Hua Cheng dies.

It's like a dry blow to the chest, strong and merciless. He opens his eyes abruptly, blinking several times. He doesn't feel oxygen entering his lungs, there's no warmth in his body, he isn't breathing, but there's no more pain or suffocating agony.

Hua Cheng looks from side to side, everything remains the same as he remembers, the same place where he lost consciousness. He turns his numb neck to the left, and his immobilized heart tightens upon seeing Xie Lian kneeling beside him, dried traces of tears running down his cheeks. The corners of his eyes are pink, and his brows are drawn downward in clear despair.

“Gege… oh, my dear gege.” Hua Cheng’s voice comes out hoarse, almost as deep as a purr scraping against the silence of what, in another scenario, would be a peaceful night.

What they had taken such care to keep hidden is now clear, there's nothing left to say between them. Words are insufficient, so they move at the same time and seek the safety of each other’s bodies. They embrace with crushing intensity, clinging to every expanse of firm flesh to prove that it isn't a lucid dream.

Hua Cheng’s robe is still damp with his blood, although his wounds have healed completely. They are both equally dirty, but they don't care when their shared pain melts into love.

“Don’t cry for me anymore, that destroys me.” Hua Cheng whispers against the crown of his head, torturously resisting the urge to go lower and kiss his forehead. “You got me, gege, see? I didn’t break the most important promise.”

Xie Lian nods as Hua Cheng wipes his damp cheeks with gentle, slow caresses.

“Please forgive me…” Xie Lian raises his head, and meeting Hua Cheng’s gaze is enough for the guilt to return. “Several times I wanted to tell you the truth of who I am, but fear surpassed my courage and… I chose not to reveal more than necessary, just so I wouldn’t scare you away and drive you from me.”

Now they are both vampires, they are equals, and Hua Cheng doesn't fear what they are.

“I would never be afraid of gege, nor would I commit such a cowardly act as leaving you. I wouldn't allow myself to do so.”

“San Lang, I feed on blood, that's what keeps me “sane”. Someone like that-”

“I would've given you my blood without hesitation if that meant you would be alright, if that was enough to lessen your worries and satisfy your instinct.”

“And now I've condemned you to the same fate as me.” Xie Lian says with his gaze lowered, the curtain of his lashes hiding those orbs that Hua Cheng refuses to stop looking at.

His hand returns to hold Xie Lian’s face, a touch that Xie Lian unconsciously leans into. It isn't until Xie Lian decides to raise his gaze that Hua Cheng speaks.

“I accept this fate with open arms if it means continuing to stand by your side.”

Hua Cheng steals the words from Xie Lian’s mouth, removes them from his lexicon, and leaves him at the mercy of his body, which almost instinctively makes him embrace Hua Cheng once again. He hides his face in his neck, embarrassment resurfacing across his pallor. Saying such things out loud is something they both once dreamed of, so the atmosphere isn't completely relaxed yet.

“I don’t think it would be wise to return to my house. At least not for a few days.” Hua Cheng says against his hair, but this startles Xie Lian and makes him pull away from the embrace in a not-so-discreet manner.

Hua Cheng could seek revenge against the bastards who killed him, but doing so would only perpetuate a vicious cycle of death and misery. It's not easy, but he refuses to return to that life. All of it died with him, with his mortal self.

“Even if you could, it isn't convenient to leave you alone. I'm your sire now.” At this, Hua Cheng raises one of the corners of his lips, about to make a comment that Xie Lian anticipates, so he moves ahead to interrupt him. “W-which means that I must guide you and teach you the essentials to survive as a vampire.”

“Hm, I see. Who am I to oppose such a proposal?”

Xie Lian bites his lower lip, somewhat thoughtful. Is it his imagination, or is Hua Cheng as an immortal more shameless than usual? Perhaps it's because there's nothing left to lose, nor are there any ambiguous feelings like before, although neither of them speaks of them in depth.

Even with dried blood staining both of their clothes, they decide that their current priority is to go to Xie Lian’s house. Once there, they will be able to clean themselves and settle in.

Xie Lian has lived all these years in the company of those who left forever, people who won't return. Those shadows, walking behind his heels, are something he neither ignores nor fully acknowledges, avoiding giving room to his sadness and longing. But he no longer has to live alone, he has someone who accompanies him, one with whom he can finally settle into a home.

They follow the familiar path along which Hua Cheng has accompanied Xie Lian, accompanied by brief moments of silence caused by the daze from the recent whirlwind of events. Hua Cheng is a little weak as well; it's impossible for his body to adjust to such an extreme change within a matter of minutes, so Xie Lian allows him to lean against him.

Before the first rays of morning caress their sensitive skin, which resents the light, they arrive at Xie Lian’s house, which seems to have sprouted from the very earth itself. It's a modest construction nestled among the small amount of vegetation that has survived the change of season. The wooden structure with visible beams supports a simple gray tiled roof, and the windows are spaces of the ideal size to prevent the sun’s intrusion.

“I've never been someone eccentric, nor someone who prioritizes luxuries. I prefer living like this, surrounded by tranquility and warmth.” Xie Lian explains in response to Hua Cheng’s silence, his obsidian eye analyzing every detail of the humble house.

“That’s so you, indeed.” Hua Cheng replies with a slight smile that's enough relief for Xie Lian.

Before entering, they remain beneath the eaves, watching the sun emerge from its hiding place and awaken nature along with it. The sky that had been an immeasurable dark blue is now iridescent, fading from below: dark blue at the very top, washed blue, almost too pale to be entirely blue, and below, almost brushing against the mountains, orange and pink merge together.

All those colors are reflected in Xie Lian’s gaze, and Hua Cheng spends a long moment observing him, stripped of words. While Xie Lian is captivated by the landscape welcoming him into winter, Hua Cheng admires him instead.

Darkness is innate to the lonely path of a vampire, but his sire, Xie Lian, his only love, also comes alive beneath the light, in the sunset caressing him. Xie Lian never surrendered himself completely to the darkness.

Living an eternity doesn't sound like a punishment imposed by the universe for straying from the natural path if he's going to spend the rest of his days beside Xie Lian, simply admiring him like this. That's all the motivation he needs.

“Shall we go in?”

When Xie Lian talks, a halo of vapor momentarily dances in the air and disappears as it rises into the cold atmosphere, and his cheeks and the tip of his nose are brushed by a soft, natural flush that widens Hua Cheng’s smile.

Winter has arrived, but not for them.

“After you.”

Xie Lian’s house had always been reduced to a space of sorrowful and gray colors that he diligently ignored, accustomed to resignation. Now, with this butterfly of the most beautiful crimson wings he has ever seen by his side, the house finally becomes a home covered in the red of affection. It's the first thing he feels with Hua Cheng there, beside him.

The interior of the house is just as modest as the exterior, with a bed with a wooden carved headboard, a large chest where his folded robes rest, and a simple table with two chairs.

“It's enough for both of us.” Hua Cheng comments as he walks through the place with short, measured steps, both hands behind his back.

Xie Lian is somewhat embarrassed by the excessive modesty of his house, but he believes in Hua Cheng, in his honest words, and perhaps it truly is enough for them.

With Hua Cheng seemingly distracted, Xie Lian discreetly searches for something at the bottom of the large chest in the corner of the room. Of course, Hua Cheng notices his movements, but he grants him a certain privacy by not turning around immediately and choosing instead to observe through the window the landscape that slowly brightens with the morning.

Xie Lian clears his throat behind him, and when Hua Cheng turns around, he doesn't expect him to be this close. There are no words between them, only Xie Lian raising himself slightly onto his toes to place something around his neck, something cold and metallic. Hua Cheng swallows at the sudden closeness, and doesn’t refrain from placing a hand on Xie Lian’s small waist, only to steady him and prevent him from falling, of course.

Once the necklace is secured and Xie Lian places his feet properly back on the ground, he scratches his cheek, not knowing how to explain his sudden action. Hua Cheng slides his hand away from Xie Lian’s waist, only to avoid overwhelming him.

“Uhm… I still have to explain many things about vampires to you, but the first thing I want you to know is this.” He gestures toward Hua Cheng’s necklace, and Hua Cheng takes it between two fingers. His eye analyze the small pendant. “Traditionally, every vampire family must have necklaces with a representative pendant and… this one is mine.”

It has been many centuries since Xie Lian has had a family, not even a vampire one that would allow him to feel like he belonged somewhere, but he always had an extra necklace in case, someday, he was granted the divine grace of compassion and didn't have to spend the rest of his days immersed in that familiar and inhospitable solitude.

The pendant on the necklace has a chrysanthemum engraved on it, the flower of resilience in the face of adversity. When Xie Lian chose that flower for the necklaces, he did so after exhaustive weeks of meditation. In autumn, the chrysanthemum is one of the few flowers that doesn't wither; it perseveres against the nature that works against it. It's also the serenity that arrives with maturity, so back then, while Xie Lian was designing the necklaces, he yearned with a certain hope that at the zenith of his immortality he would find a companion. It didn't matter if it wasn't for life; he didn't believe in eternal loyalty or unconditionality, he only wanted to have someone who would listen to him, someone to lean on so that the days would seem less long and monotonous.

Obtaining more than he wished for makes him lower his head before the universe and feel as though he's in an eternal debt.

“I made these myself a long time ago. I’m not really an expert, as you can definitely see, and I understand if you find it shameful to wear…”

Xie Lian rubs his forehead with greater insistence as he continues speaking, and Hua Cheng makes no attempt to say anything. It takes Xie Lian a moment to notice the grin that appears on his lips and illuminates his attractive face.

“No jewel compares to something gege made with his own hands.”

Hua Cheng wraps the necklace in his hand with genuine appreciation, and Xie Lian cannot help but smile, certainly satisfied with the reaction. They're a small family, but with enough affection to rival a large one.

Hua Cheng’s smile weakens for a moment, still holding the necklace.

“I never gave you everything you deserved when I was mortal, and that's my greatest regret.”

Xie Lian exhales softly and shakes his head. Are those San Lang’s worries?

“San Lang, material things are what matter least to me. Of course, I treasured every gesture and detail with infinite appreciation, but for me, the “everything” you could give me was…”

Your heart, your love.

The words become stuck in his throat, and his pupils tremble like they do every time he's nervous. He isn't aware of his restless hands until Hua Cheng takes them between his own and places affectionate kisses on his knuckles, one by one. The action catches him off guard, but he doesn't dare pull away, only melting into the gentle touch.

When he finishes, Hua Cheng lifts the thick veil of his lashes and reveals his sincere and tranquil gaze. It's ironic to have found peace in eternity. It isn't because of the circumstance itself, but because they are together, without secrets between them.

“Is that so?”

Hua Cheng knows what he means, understands his silences, his hesitations, the origin of the tears he usually refuses to let free, his laughter that illuminates the dimness of his world that had been submerged in the storm. Now, more than ever, with this unbreakable connection, he feels Xie Lian in the deepest part of his being, he's filled with him everywhere.

“It’s the same for me, gege.”

All I ever wanted was you, too.

The first days as a vampire are always the most overwhelming and confusing. Xie Lian explains the essentials to him with patience, but ultimately the worst part is feeding. At first, the taste of blood disgusts him, and he struggles to digest it; it's a thick and corrosive liquid that slides down his throat, giving way to an unpleasant flavor. Even so, Xie Lian is pretty encouraging and always assures him that with time it’ll only get easier.

Both of them feed on blood that Xie Lian keeps preserved in a secret place within the small house, only as a precaution, in case a curious mortal breaks in and, alarmed, believes that Xie Lian is a sadistic killer. They are jars of preserved blood that, according to Xie Lian, are given to him monthly by an acquaintance who has been his salvation throughout the past centuries, a vampire named Shi Qingxuan who lives in a nearby village.

A couple of centuries ago, when he met Shi Qingxuan by the workings of fate and was still unsure whether to accept his offer, the vampire assured him that he had connections with other vampires who provided him with the jars. Xie Lian never questioned the origin of the blood out loud, because he had to survive and had no other options.

Even if someone wanted to end him by driving a stake into his heart, he doesn't have a physical heart to speak of. Any mercy was taken from him on the day he sealed the pact of his downfall.

Being condemned to wander this earthly plane for centuries, the least he could do was keep himself in decent condition, enough to survive. Above all, not remember the pain, the cruelty, because resentment corrodes the soul until it tears it apart and leaves behind a shell filled with rage. He wasn't going to cowardly take refuge in the idea that he had to be a monster.

Being a newly transformed vampire, Hua Cheng’s thirst is insatiable, and within just a few weeks, the jars are emptied. Because of this, he resorts to Shi Qingxuan’s help ahead of schedule, before even a month has passed since his last visit.

Shi Qingxuan is someone who radiates a light that feels improper for vampires. He's a little loud, excessively charismatic, and his presence makes everything around him shine and, inevitably, infects everyone with his good energy.

While Hua Cheng watches Shi Qingxuan enthusiastically embrace Xie Lian and hit his back with more force than necessary, he doesn't think the vampire is someone remarkable, even when it's clear that Xie Lian is still fascinated by Shi Qingxuan despite having known him for centuries. Seeing that somewhat reserved smile, without losing its sincerity, makes Hua Cheng raise an eyebrow.

“What do you think of the new jars? They can hold twice as much now!” Shi Qingxuan points proudly at the dozen jars he brought, each one decorated in a particular way, perhaps bordering on opulent.

“Qingxuan… I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it! I can see the reason why you made the request to receive a double portion.” Shi Qingxuan places his clear bright eyes on Hua Cheng, who doesn't look very excited about the encounter. Still seeing him with his arms crossed, Shi Qingxuan approaches with a smile and bows. “Nice to meet you, I’m Shi Qingxuan, Xie Lian’s friend!”

Hua Cheng gives Xie Lian a glance, and upon seeing him somewhat nervous about his reaction, decides to return the greeting with a nod of his head.

“Hua Cheng.”

“What an interesting name, indeed!”

Shi Qingxuan’s gaze lowers to the necklace resting on Hua Cheng’s chest, over his clothes, and he's about to make what Xie Lian believes is an imprudent comment, so he quickly intervenes.

“I apologize for interrupting, but aren’t you tired from the journey? What if we all drink together?”

To emphasize his initiative, Xie Lian opens one of the jars. The metallic scent of blood immediately changes Shi Qingxuan’s expression, giving in to temptation.

“Of course! Thank you.”

Xie Lian pours the blood into three jars, two of them small and the other considerably larger. Hua Cheng decides to remain standing so that Xie Lian can sit with Shi Qingxuan at the table.

The three of them drink in silence, but Shi Qingxuan observes the pair with curiosity. Xie Lian drinks slower than Hua Cheng, who's still in the process of regulating his thirst. Xie Lian looks somewhat anxious under Shi Qingxuan’s scrutinizing gaze, whose eyes never stop resting on the matching necklaces.

“I was thinking, and I know cases that aren't isolated from yours.” Shi Qingxuan leaves his jar on the table and slowly licks his lips, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “A friend of a friend of a friend had the same thing happen to him. He refused to bite people, and animals were out of the question, so the perfect solution was to pair himself with another vampire.”

Xie Lian almost spits out the blood he's drinking, while Hua Cheng, a few steps away, carefully moves the jar away from his lips and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“It isn't as bad as it sounds. Usually, the vampire they decide to pair themselves with ends up being their formal partner.” Shi Qingxuan raises both eyebrows suggestively, taking turns looking at both of them. He still doesn't understand the relationship between them, much less the feelings involved, so he believes his suggestion isn't improper. “Maybe I can find someone for you and your friend right here. As you know, I know many vampires, so I don’t think it'll be complicated!”

“We-” Xie Lian clears his throat and straightens himself, avoiding looking at Hua Cheng. “I mean, I’m fine. I’m already used to it.”

“No thanks.” Hua Cheng says simply, looking away without interest.

Shi Qingxuan thinks that, somehow, Hua Cheng is mesmerizing and disturbing at the same time. There's a dangerous and wild aura around him that makes him maintain a respectful distance. He doesn't understand how this is the man Xie Lian says is mischievous, when Hua Cheng never even forms a smile at Shi Qingxuan’s attempts to be kind or when he makes a joke to lighten the atmosphere.

Xie Lian would have liked for the three of them to be friends, but Hua Cheng’s lack of interest is clear, especially when he sighs with a certain relief once Shi Qingxuan leaves.

“Your friend is quite talkative for a vampire.”

A vampire can be kind and benevolent, as well as friendly and chatty. How could one continue believing in legends?

Xie Lian takes a moment to realize that Hua Cheng is speaking to him. He seems distracted by something that clearly consumes every one of his thoughts.

“Qingxuan? Yes, he’s pretty warm and friendly. He means no harm. Not all vampires are cold and indifferent.” He averts his gaze; a bitter, pestilent memory seems to pass through his mind for an instant. An instant that feels eternal when his expression dims and his brows furrow.

Hua Cheng doesn't need to ask what he means, and he wraps his arms around him, in the security that his firm hold provides.

The idea doesn’t leave either of their minds, the idea of a pairing between vampires, beyond the need for blood. They continue living together as they have done all this time, but in those intervals of silence where each one occupies themselves with their own things, they allow themselves to daydream.

Why does neither of them dare to take the next step? To break the limitations of friendship and ambiguous promises, to go beyond embraces and fleeting kisses on the hands?

Hua Cheng notices Xie Lian’s attitude, not only in how thoughtful he spends most of his time, but also in the way he furtively looks at the window and the door, secretly fearing that unwanted guests might break into their home.

A month has passed since that night that almost turned fatal. Hua Cheng hasn't returned to his house, nor have they left the shelter of the forest to go into town. Hua Cheng isn't someone who puts on airs of grandeur, much less does he like assuming Xie Lian’s feelings, but seeing him always at his side, almost resisting the urge to cling to his arm to protect him from a potential danger, makes his unmoving heart fill with warmth, the warmth that Xie Lian’s affection pours over him through the most subtle actions.

The traumas in Xie Lian are difficult to heal, especially when he almost lost three people instead of the two from the past. How could he have coped with losing the reason behind his affection? The one who rekindled his spirit and gave him a reason beyond wandering aimlessly through the world?

If Hua Cheng hadn't returned to him… He doesn't even want to think about the consequences.

Xie Lian was used to life not being kind to him. He accepted it as a perpetual punishment imposed by his cursed nature, which was why he tried not to form close bonds with others. He's kind and gentle, yes, but he never bares his truths nor allows others to take him as a constant who's incapable of disappearing.

Even so, everything that happened with Hua Cheng, getting close to him and allowing himself to be consumed by his entrancing demeanor, was inevitable. That enigmatic man inadvertently stepped into his chest, and he didn't want to push him away. Losing him forever would've probably been the worst punishment.

To ease his worries, Hua Cheng suggests making some improvements to the house. At first, he suggests doing it alone, but Xie Lian refuses to burden him and joins him. They're quite an efficient duo; when they begin building some furniture, Hua Cheng cuts the wood and Xie Lian sands it. In the backyard, even with winter beginning to wreak havoc, Hua Cheng digs a generous hole in the earth, and Xie Lian plants a peach tree.

“By the time it bears fruit, summer will have returned.” Xie Lian says while looking wistfully at the soil that now covers the seed that'll take time to bloom.

Although there are months, even years, left to wait, Hua Cheng decides to build a bench near where the peach tree will bloom. He wants Xie Lian to have a good view of it and be able to appreciate its growth while being sheltered beneath a wide eave to protect him from the sun and rain.

The synergy between them shines and bears fruit in a short time. By the following week, the interior of the house has more furniture, the roof has been repaired, and the eaves improved. Relief now covers Xie Lian’s face, even more so when Hua Cheng suggests building a bamboo fence.

Hua Cheng takes care of driving the posts into the ground at a symmetrical distance, and Xie Lian places the crosspieces made of two bamboo stalks, securing them with hemp rope. At first, Xie Lian ties it with excessive force, thinking that doing so will make it more secure, but soon he feels Hua Cheng by his side, humming in appreciation.

“Gege certainly has strength, however, leaving it this tight can mark the bamboo and cause it to deteriorate quickly.”

Xie Lian, with his signature white cloak gifted by Hua Cheng now clean of every mark of death and the hood covering almost his entire face, looks over his shoulder at Hua Cheng and sighs with a certain exhaustion.

“Have I been doing it wrong all this time?”

“Not at all. I only suggest you do it this way.” Hua Cheng positions himself behind Xie Lian and, taking his hands, gently guides them to show him firsthand how he should tie the knots in a properly distributed binding. “See?”

“Oh, I get it now.” Xie Lian chuckles and turns around out of habit, out of the need to always see Hua Cheng’s face, only to notice that they're far too close.

They had already been this close on previous occasions, but now it feels different, from the atmosphere to their gazes: Xie Lian’s somewhat expectant, and Hua Cheng’s carrying that darkness that makes Xie Lian think he wants to devour him in a single bite.

A gust of wind makes the hood of Xie Lian’s cloak slide backward, revealing his flushed face. At this, both of them move away slightly, just enough to stand face to face. Xie Lian laughs nervously and wants to say something, anything, but he seems incapable of forming anything coherent.

Before he can open his mouth, Hua Cheng lowers his head slightly and gives him a chaste kiss to see his reaction. It's an ephemeral touch, almost fleeting, that makes Xie Lian open his eyes in surprise and stir the calm tide of his senses. The blush caused by the wind intensifies with shyness, descending along his neck and disappearing beneath what the robe conceals, yet he doesn't pull away nor show displeasure at the gesture.

Xie Lian leans forward, and Hua Cheng takes care of closing the distance. He holds the back of his neck carefully and brings his mouth to his own, keeping him steady against his lips, soft and damp lips mingling in a particular sensation that makes Xie Lian sigh in the middle of the kiss.

He's unsure what to do, how to keep up, so he lets Hua Cheng take the lead. It's a soft, slow kiss that involves nothing more than the joining and clash of lips. Xie Lian feels faint, so one of his hands reaches for Hua Cheng's arm. As their breaths mingle and saliva moistens everything in its path, an unusual heat builds in both their lower bellies.

There's a persistent tingling sensation throughout their bodies, a primal need they choose not to explore as they carefully separate, gazing into each other's eyes. Hua Cheng places one last short kiss on his lips and takes his hand, their limbs feeling as hot as their bodies.

They've hugged, but never held hands, much less like this, with their fingers intertwined. Xie Lian feels cold sweat dampen his palm, but he refuses to let go of Hua Cheng, and he seems to feel the same way. Both are aware of the slight sense of self-awareness and modesty that overwhelms them, which isn’t greater than the joy of being together in such a way that, for some, may seem cheesy. Still with their hands intertwined, Hua Cheng kisses the back of Xie Lian’s hand, to assure himself again and again that it's real.

It's a great effort to finish the bamboo fence; their mouths long for more contact, to go beyond a light rhythm, but each of them focuses on their task, avoiding looking at the other as much as possible, and they manage to complete it before dawn.

Once back inside the house, without even lighting a candle, Hua Cheng corners Xie Lian against the door. His large, cold hand takes Xie Lian's face and presses their mouths together in an open-mouth kiss, more desperate than the first. The change in intensity makes Xie Lian whimper, tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

The hardness of the door against his back is a little uncomfortable, so he wriggles in Hua Cheng's grip, and Hua Cheng, sensing his discomfort, slides a hand down his waist and up his back to prevent him from hurting himself.

He feels Hua Cheng's tongue, soft and burning, touch his own, a sensation that throws him off and makes him gasp. Hua Cheng presses their bodies closer, his knee slipping between Xie Lian's legs, and without thinking, his knee grazes his groin, the source of their carnal passions.

It's too much for him, too much for his first experience.

Xie Lian steps back slightly to regain some composure, but as he feels Hua Cheng approach again, maybe out of instinct, his teeth bite down on his lower lip with fervor. His head spins, unfamiliar sensations blooming everywhere, so he's unaware of when he pulls at Hua Cheng's lower lip until it breaks, a small line from which drops of blood trickle.

Hua Cheng pulls away, his chest rising and falling with agitation, blood trickling down his chin. The sight of his blood, its addictive scent, sends shivers through Xie Lian. His fangs slowly grow, emerging from their hiding place. Though he's unsure of what they're doing, he needs more, more, more. More of Hua Cheng, all of him.

The hand on Xie Lian's back slides down to his waist and squeezes lightly, enough to elicit a weak whimper. Satisfied, Hua Cheng grins and leans his forearm against the door. Thus, he towers over Xie Lian even more, engulfing his slender frame.

“What a naughty gege.”

Hua Cheng kisses him again, not bothering to wipe the blood from his mouth, because Xie Lian licks every drop. Tasting his own blood, mixed with saliva, isn't satisfying enough, so he bites Xie Lian's lip until it breaks, until blood flows from it as well.

He only tasted Xie Lian's blood once, when he was in a deplorable state, so he doesn't remember its flavor. The blood that got used to drinking from the jars is no match for that of Xie Lian. His blood is the origin of his thirsty fascination, the abyss of his addiction, a bitter elixir he consumes desperately.

The blood mixes with the saliva, trickling from the corners of their mouths, a moisture that makes Xie Lian roll his eyes back. They drink each other's blood, their own, the amalgam of fluids they create amidst desperate movements and a chaotic rhythm.

They quench their souls' thirst on each other's lips, devouring whatever is within reach. It's so frenzied that their fangs, both pointy pairs in their full glory, clash mid-kiss. The tender flesh of their lips continues to tear before the edges that rip through threads of blood, quickly lapped up by lascivious and hungry tongues.

They are candlelight for one another, an inextinguishable flame that spreads from the deepest parts of themselves and manifests in restless hands, in Hua Cheng’s firm grip on the nape of Xie Lian’s neck, one that, if he were alive, would have left him breathless.

Hua Cheng’s fingers sink into the smooth and soft flesh, dragging slightly lower, only to meet the collar of his white robe. He tries to mask that frustration by devouring Xie Lian completely, without leaving a single unexplored area of his mouth. And Xie Lian feels it, truly, there isn't a single place on his lips that doesn't belong to Hua Cheng now.

If he were a little more daring, he would also dare to do unimaginable things with Hua Cheng, but his submissive nature, which only appears in the presence of this man, makes him melt beneath him, at his mercy.

Hua Cheng sucks on Xie Lian's lower lip one last time and leaves a quick kiss. Still shrouded in darkness, thanks to their heightened senses, they can see each other's faces perfectly, desire practically oozing from their pores.

Despite the provocative nature of the situation, they simply press their foreheads together and control their emotions, unanimously agreeing not to go any further, not to succumb to the allure of the flesh.

Even so, that doesn't stop them from repeating their making out sessions daily. They decide to return to town occasionally, at Xie Lian’s request, so as not to fuel the concern of the acquaintances who missed the familiar presence of the pair through the nighttime streets.

Those outings, brief as they are, don't ease nor erase their desires. They spend several weeks limiting themselves to kisses that increase in intensity but never involve touch below the neck area; there are never any slips of clothing or indecent caresses on heated places.

They cannot keep their hands off each other, their mouths don't remember the time they spent apart. Whether in the house they share, a dark alleyway before properly reaching town, beneath the shelter of the lush forest, beside the uneven path, or while greeting the sunrise together after pretending to have had a night of apparent rest, they always kiss for long minutes, until their lips are swollen almost with a maroon hue.

Their mouths find each other out of instinct, and their blood always mingle, which makes both of them overflow with a powerful vitality. Even the ladies in town gush over how beautiful Xie Lian’s skin looks these days, so smooth and radiant like the finest and most exquisite jade, even in the middle of winter.

Xie Lian manages to laugh nervously, trying to come up with a harmless lie that he never quite manages to formulate thanks to his words colliding with each other. In the end, the ladies laugh fondly and brush off the topic. No one suspects that the cause of it is the tall gentleman by his side, as imposing as a mountain that supports him.

Hua Cheng has also begun to notice how needy Xie Lian has become. He doesn't fear showing his hunger for Xie Lian, but when it's the other way around, he finds it genuinely endearing, so sometimes (emphasis on the sometimes), he decides to play “hard to get” and wait for Xie Lian to seek him out. Even when he does, he plays hard to get only a bit.

Just after waking up, following a cuddling session that lasted all the time the sun was high in the sky, Xie Lian tilts his head while watching Hua Cheng dress in his usual dark robe. He hasn't kissed him all day. Hm.

So, making use of his limited courage, he gets up from the bed and patiently waits for Hua Cheng to turn around.

Once he does, and hears his deep, melodic laugh, Xie Lian closes his eyes and rises onto his tiptoes to reach Hua Cheng’s lips. Taking the initiative is a little mortifying because he knows Hua Cheng is going to tease him. And it proves true when he doesn't feel those familiar lips against his own, not even a caress.

“San Lang…” Xie Lian complains as he opens his eyes and sees that Hua Cheng’s chin is slightly raised and a cocky grin impossible to get off his face.

“Gege will have to work harder if he wants a kiss.”

“That’s unfair. You know what? F-Forget it!”

Xie Lian makes a motion to leave, but Hua Cheng grabs his wrist and, with a light pull carrying just enough strength, brings him back beside him. Before Xie Lian can die (a second time) from embarrassment, Hua Cheng cradles his face carefully and kisses him.

At the soft and damp contact, Xie Lian’s eyelids flutter and close in delight. He cannot pretend to be difficult for long when it comes to Hua Cheng.

With their hair slightly disheveled and clothes askew, the kisses intensify and their bodies instinctively return to the bed they've shared for several weeks.

The cold sheets welcome Xie Lian with his back to them, and between his legs, Hua Cheng. He doesn't notice the compromising position, their groins brushing together, until he separates for a moment, just to adjust himself.

Pressed against the bed, Hua Cheng's weight on top of him causes his lower belly to tense in what he now recognizes as lust. He feels goosebumps all over his body.

Hua Cheng slowly licks his own lips, the tip of his tongue devouring every trace of Xie Lian's taste, savoring it as if it were their first kiss. Xie Lian is already flustered watching him do this, but the last shred of sanity he has left shatters when he feels something incredibly hard poking him.

Being so close, with no space between them, Xie Lian doesn't dare look down, but he's curious to know what's touching him with such insistence.

"T-There's something poking me... San Lang, is that your dagger?"

Hua Cheng doesn't answer. Xie Lian raises his head to look at him, and there's a dangerous glint in his gaze. That's when he understands that, in fact, it wasn't exactly that dagger that was poking his lower abdomen, but an unspeakable part he doesn't dare dwell on.

Xie Lian falls silent, and a murderous silence envelops them dangerously. Hua Cheng exhales slowly, shaking his head several times in disbelief.

"Gege, you're truly killing me. You make me insane..."

Me? How so?

Xie Lian doesn't grasp the power he has over Hua Cheng, how tempting he looks like this, with an innocent and confused look, his white robe slipping off his right shoulder, revealing a pale expanse of skin, untouched, pure.

When he shifts in his place on the bed, he presses his legs against the side of Hua Cheng's body, and their crotches brush together again. Hua Cheng swallows heavily, his Adam's apple bobbing with the movement. Xie Lian watches the action intently, only to realize that his mouth is dry too. He's thirsty, hungry. There's something only Hua Cheng can satisfy.

Hua Cheng begins to gently sway his hips in small circles over Xie Lian's groin, their bodies colliding beneath their clothes, the result of an arousal that grows with each movement.

Xie Lian feels his cock awaken with alarming speed, one that makes him shrink beneath Hua Cheng's body, who continues to press him against the mattress, almost suffocating him.

It feels good. The contrast between the rough fabric of their clothes and the friction of their bodies, which seem to be starting to sweat, their faces flushed the pink of a spring sunset.

As a mortal, Xie Lian had never had a romantic relationship much less any romantic interaction, nor had he ever been attracted to anyone. As an immortal, it hadn't been much different, until Hua Cheng appeared and awakened emotions he didn't know he was capable of. He discovers that carnal passions also reside within him, and it isn't so difficult to bring it to light.

He has never truly touched himself, never sought to push away the pleasure that appeared sporadically as insistent tickles in his most intimate place. Now, more than a relief, the sensation intensifies beneath Hua Cheng's firm body, under his unwavering gaze. Xie Lian trembles uncontrollably, uncertain of his own actions. Is this equally pleasurable for Hua Cheng? Or is he the only one melting amidst the burning embers of arousal?

When he looks up, all doubt vanishes. Although Hua Cheng is holding back for his sake, so as not to frighten him, that sight, of a chained beast unable to sink its claws into its prey, makes him whimper.

He likes not being in control for once in his life, letting go. Being the object of someone's love and desire, and that someone being the person his heart longs for.

Xie Lian, feeling a bit brave, moves his hips slightly upward and lowers them with tortuous slowness. Where their bodies touch, he feels a wet dampness that doesn't come from him.

Realizing that he has the power to make Hua Cheng feel this way, to the point of making his cock hard, his courage grows, and consequently, his movements become firm and frantic. Perhaps he does it for himself, maybe for Hua Chen or perhaps for both, but he impatiently seeks relief.

They lean again and kiss at the same time. Two long fingers of Hua Cheng untie the white bandage around his neck, the one that had remained firmly attached to his skin. Without the fabric in between, a mark is revealed on the whitish expanse, two small holes that closed more centuries ago than he can remember.

Hua Cheng kisses the mark as his hands anchor themselves on Xie Lian's hips to guide their chaotic swaying. They return to a heart-wrenching, pleasurable rhythm, both with erections gleaming beneath their clothes.

Outside, the snow covers everything with the first snowfall of the season. The cold ravages without discrimination, but in this humble dwelling resting in the lap of two imposing mountains and sheltered by dry trees, two bodies condemned to the cold find some warmth in their carnal intersection.

“I would immerse myself between your ribs, make my way through them and swim in the flow of your blood, savoring every part of you from within.” Hua Cheng gasps at a specific movement that brushes his dripping glans against Xie Lian's smooth abdomen. With his eyes half-closed, his vision blurred by pleasure, his words remain undiminished. “Every minuscule detail that you overlook, I would engrave it upon my mouth, my hands, and all my sacrilegious senses unworthy of you.”

Xie Lian blinks several times, at a loss of words. The best he can do is kiss him calmly, a touch the opposite of what's happening between their crotches.

Something is forming in his lower belly, it seems to want to burst from his dick, but before the sensation can materialize, Hua Cheng stops and their mouths pull apart. As they separate, Xie Lian lets his tongue loll out, a thin string of saliva connecting their mouths. Xie Lian has both arms at his sides, palms facing upward. On one of his hands lies the scar from their pact the night he brought Hua Cheng into the world. Hua Cheng holds that same hand, with only three fingers, and his tongue slowly licks the scar.

The eye contact feels like way too much to handle, and even so, Xie Lian can't tear his fascinated gaze away.

"If... I really take you, it'll hurt," Hua Cheng clarifies, placing a kiss on the back of his hand.

Their groins ache under the constriction of their clothes, even more so having them wet from precum. It's clear there's no going back, and neither of them wants to backtrack now.

Xie Lian doesn't fully grasp how much penetration can hurt, especially the first time and with a size like Hua Cheng's. Because yes, just the encounter through their clothes makes it clear that Hua Cheng is big down there.

Even if his flesh tears and pain pierces the deepest parts of his body, he'll accept it gladly if it means surrendering himself to his desires. He wants to do this as well, because only Hua Cheng is capable of awakening and quieting the carnal passions within him.

“I know.” he murmurs with a somewhat hoarse voice, unusually low and trembling. “A-And I still want it…”

“Tell me to stop if necessary.”

Xie Lian nods and shudders as Hua Cheng removes his clothes with a hint of eagerness, an urgency sprinkled with passion. His underwear, the last barrier of modesty, is thrown to the floor, and Xie Lian does his best not to flinch from the unfamiliar touch, the one that goes beyond his neck.

Hua Cheng has always tried to be well versed in different areas of knowledge, to fill himself with everything he could with his limited resources. Whether by sneaking across the rooftops of diplomats’ houses and entering their ostentatious libraries to spend entire hours reading thick and heavy tomes, or watching from afar, sometimes from the branch of a tree or a bush, some lessons at an academy.

His eyes, which had never read intricate poems overflowing with epithets, eyes blind to poetic eccentricity, now understand the meaning behind those tangled words and seemingly unfinished verses.

Before him stretches a poem made of flesh, existing in its pure glory, surpassing mortals and immortals alike. Upon the white sheets lies a canvas of the same hue, filled with verses that Hua Cheng seems to recite from memory even without having read them before.

He knows that no one would ever make him feel the same way, and that he would never feel anything like this for anyone else.

Xie Lian's neck is a prelude to desire, his collarbones the beginning of an erotic poem he reads with his touch. His smooth abdomen is the music of verses he traces with outstretched hands, leaving no area unexplored, until he reigns supreme over his skin.

He moves down the contours of his waist and opens the horizon of his hips to delve into what lies hidden between them. A pink entrance receives him timidly, but he's far from being the same. He sucks on two of his fingers and descends tortuously until he tentatively presses against his hole, then inserts the tip of his index finger.

Xie Lian moans at the intrusion, a strange sensation that makes him instinctively close his legs, only to be stopped by Hua Cheng's firm hand on his inner thigh. The index finger penetrates deeper and deeper, with a slowness that makes him feel every movement on the surface of his skin.

The resistance of his hole gives way to the intrusion as Hua Cheng inserts and withdraws his index finger. When he thinks he's getting used to the sensation, he adds a second finger. Two phalanges scrape against his enveloping walls at a rhythm that explodes against a part of himself he didn't know existed, something small and sensitive hidden.

Hua Cheng marks Xie Lian everywhere, but it seems to be the fingerprints of lascivious gods left in the form of dots of a variety of colors, between pink and reddish. Xie Lian groans at every scorching bite, which makes him feel self-conscious as he hears those sounds, varying between whimpers and soft moans, reverberating through the room. He's even more embarrassed that Hua Cheng hears them, so he bites his lower lip and tries to close his throat to prevent any sound from escaping.

"Don't hold back." Hua Cheng frowns slightly, three fingers working frantically at his hole until they produce a lascivious squelch. "You're not going to let me hear you? I'm letting you hear me, gege. Indulge me a bit, won't you?"

And that's true, Hua Cheng hasn't held back since the beginning. His low grunts, his sighs, everything clearly hits his ear, almost as if Hua Cheng wants to make his enjoyment clear, how much he loves doing this with him.

Xie Lian releases his lip and, without reservation, grows faint. Hua Cheng smiles contentedly, but it's not enough yet. Xie Lian's small, dripping cock rises gloriously against his abdomen, begging for attention.

Hua Cheng gives in to temptation and, without removing his fingers from Xie Lian's hole, lowers his head and envelops Xie Lian's cock with his mouth, the perfect size to fit in his warm cavity.

An electric shock, a trembling flash, courses through Xie Lian's body at the stimulation in both areas, both his dick and his hole, which continues to be fingered. He shakes his head several times from side to side, denying his ability to withstand the collision of emotions in two parts at the same time.

Hua Cheng has never done this before, but he follows his instinct and traces the length of the phallus with his outstretched tongue until he returns to the red head coated in salty precum, which he tastes like a craving.

“I- I can’t…” Xie Lian pleads to the void, his gaze clouded by tears of pleasure that trickle down his cheekbones.

Hua Cheng curls his fingers at his entrance, thrusting in at the perfect spot, and his expert mouth sucks the sensitive head of the dick. Just when Xie Lian thinks he can’t take any more, his cock explodes in release, an orgasm that unleashes passionate tremors throughout his poor body. Cum wets Hua Cheng’s face while the hole contracts around his intrusive fingers.

Hua Cheng doesn’t pull away and swallows all of his release with a naturalness that makes Xie Lian lose his mind. Hua Cheng is far from finished; Xie Lian knows this when he sees him withdraw his fingers from his entrance and, instead, lower his head beyond his twitching cock. His fangs slowly grow and, on the bluish vein that stands out on Xie Lian's inner thigh, close to his most intimate place, he bites with measured force, just enough to pierce and draw the crimson liquid of madness.

Xie Lian throws his head back and groans at the brief stab of pain. The scent of blood is alluring, an ecstasy that sharpens his senses and alters his very nature, which seems unable to get enough. The irises of both slowly turn crimson, until they fade from their usual brown. The thirst for blood is difficult to quench, and Hua Cheng's lips are like fire as he drinks the blood from the small wound and, with his wet lips, kisses Xie Lian.

That scorching kiss makes them both dizzy. Xie Lian gently pulls his face away to lick the remaining blood from his lips, and meanwhile, Hua Cheng ties his hair back into a messy ponytail. He gives Xie Lian a show by removing his outer robe, revealing the brownish almost faded scars on his chest, arms, and thighs, and a mark similar to Xie Lian's on his own neck. Xie Lian wants to kiss each scar, to take his time tracing each one with his touch and lips.

Hua Cheng takes Xie Lian's hand and places it on his neck, over the almost healed incision, and invites him to move down, past his collarbones and lower. Xie Lian enjoys the firmness of his pectorals, the stillness on the left side of his chest, a reflection of himself.

With their hands joined, they pull down together Hua Cheng's pants, and his slightly curved cock, rock hard, springs against his firm abdomen. Seeing him in all his glory, with no clothes in between, makes Xie Lian salivate. Is it even possible for that to fit inside him?

Without changing position, Hua Cheng aligns his erect cock at Xie Lian's entrance. The moistened tip probes the outside in circles, up and down, even daring to give light taps on the hole to properly lubricate it to lessen the impending discomfort. The sensation makes both of them hiss, but all sound falls silent when Hua Cheng enters slowly, despite the resistance it encounters, and stretches his throbbing warm insides.

The pleasure he feels at being inside Xie Lian's hole is the delirious verse that thrills him. It's soft, wet, thanks to all the preparation, and, above all, tight, incredibly so. Inexperience shining through. Xie Lian clenches around Hua Cheng's throbbing cock, and the pressure on his hips once he's fully inside, his pubic hair against the smooth roundness of Xie Lian's ass, makes him close his eye.

"Gege…" his words die with the hint of a gasp, one he holds back by biting his lower lip. His saliva tastes of Xie Lian, tastes of glory, of ecstasy, of a love that consumes everything.

He has to hold onto the wooden headboard of the bed to avoid losing his mind. It takes him a moment to regain his senses, which is certainly difficult with Xie Lian's entrance gripping his cock with a tightness that makes him hiss in pain.

“Fuck, gege…”

Despite discovering his sexually adept nature, courtesy of his horny adolescence during which he dedicated an unholy amount of time to reading erotica, he struggles to contain his premature orgasm. It's his first time having sex. Matter of fact, until a few seconds ago he was still considered a “virgin.” He doesn't want to ejaculate yet, not when neither of them has satisfied their craving for pleasure.

Hua Cheng is gentle at first, though his firm grip leaves nothing but pink lines on Xie Lian's sensitive skin. As he thrusts deep, hitting Xie Lian's sweet spot, the walls contract, deliciously embracing his cock, only to relax once again as he withdraws.

He molds his entrance with each movement until it's loose enough to thrust faster, a little harder. As the instinct of animal lust merges with bestial instinct, Hua Cheng grips Xie Lian's hips with both hands, digging his fingers in marks that will most likely bruise.

Xie Lian is in a similar state, showing no shame as he grips Hua Cheng's body, clinging to whatever he can. He digs his nails in, lightly tearing pale skin that, while not as sensitive as his own, also feels the friction and force of his grip.

The hard and slick dick inside of him feels incredibly good as it hits his prostate repeatedly, making him get hard again. Glory envelops every verse tearing from Xie Lian's trembling throat with each frenzied thrust, with each fluid morbidly mingled where their bodies meet, where skin collides, and the warmth of humanity boils.

Xie Lian's hair flows like a rebellious jet-black cloak across the white sheets, a few strands clinging to his cheeks and forehead. Hua Cheng is almost chest to chest on top of him, supporting himself with his forearm to one side of Xie Lian's head, and his free hand anchored to Xie Lian's hip to guide his movements.

Though they aren't breathing, the effort reveals heavy, labored breaths. Xie Lian blinks several times to ward off tears and notices how close Hua Cheng's face is, his sharp, defined jawline tempting. Xie Lian leans forward with what little strength he has left, as he's thrust into without compassion, his body moving up and down, and licks Hua Cheng's jaw. Near his ear, he bites gently, barely managing to stretch a bit of skin.

The disorientation that comes with lassitude makes Xie Lian grip Hua Cheng's shoulder and place his other hand on his neck to pull him closer. Hua Cheng curses under his breath at a particular thrust that tenses them both with the expectation of release, but not for long, because Xie Lian moves closer to bite him at the intersection of his neck and shoulder, a little lower than the original mark.

Hua Cheng gasps at the burning sensation of the wound as it opens, the flesh slightly torn. He moves away from Xie Lian to caress his face and lower both hands to grasp the backs of his knees, lifting both legs that seem fragile under his touch, and thrusting from a new angle.

With his ass slightly raised, Hua Cheng's cock seems to crash against new areas inside him, drowning him in a sea of ​​lust from which Hua Cheng brings him back to life with soft kisses that contrast with his ferocious thrusts, his balls bumping against Xie Lian's pink asscheeks, his hole of a similar shade.

Hua Cheng clenches his jaw and throws his head back, exposing his jaw and part of his marked neck as the orgasm makes him stop moving. He embraces Xie Lian as he fills him with hot and thick threads of cum. It's such a big load that it even trickles out, staining part of Hua Cheng's thighs.

Xie Lian affectionately strokes his hair, holding him close even as Hua Cheng shudders as the high of the orgasm subsides just a little, because it's not enough. He wants, he needs more.

Xie Lian makes a sound of surprise when Hua Cheng turns him over, his chest pressing against the bed and ass raised. He feels Hua Cheng knead his cum-slicked asscheeks and the tip of his cock re-entering.

"S-San Lang!" His words are cut short as the thick extension thrusts in, filling him again.

Hua Cheng rolls his hips slowly, hips pressing against Xie Lian, pushing him back down onto the bed. The thrusts crash like waves against the edge of Xie Lian's carnal divinity, the sensation of in and out making him whimper. His eyes are red with the overwhelming tears he has shed, the mixture of everything contained in his ruby ​​irises that Hua Cheng cannot admire in that moment.

Hua Cheng only sees the gentle curve of his back flowing like a mountain pool, covered in the dew of exertion that makes his skin glisten. The temptation of his smooth, sculpted neck and his weak arms clinging to either side of the sheets as if they were the last thing tethering him to the sanity that passion is shattering.

The bed creaks loudly as they go on, and Hua Cheng gently bites his earlobe and moves down to his cheek to leave a resounding kiss. With their bodies so close, Hua Cheng's necklace, the one he never takes off, sways with every movement, bumping against the nape of his neck, sliding down his throat, and gliding to the center of his back again and again, a delirious swaying that makes Xie Lian moan with delight. It's the same necklace Xie Lian wears, the one that binds them, the one that reaffirms they are family.

Xie Lian moans with a broken voice, sounds strained by his poor throat. Delight intensifies in his cock as Hua Cheng thrusts deeper into him. Lascivious sensations hit him all over, from his lower belly to his sensitive nipples that rub against the bed.

He didn't think he'd be able to come a second time, but the climax hits him from deep within. It makes him let out a cry that is silenced by Hua Cheng's mouth on his, fangs clashing chaotically against each other.

Even as he ejaculates, he can't help but keep moving his hips up and down, still too immersed in the act. It's the swaying motion his body has become accustomed to in the last few minutes, the one that allowed him to touch unknown places inside himself and feel a suffocating and addictive pleasure.

Hua Cheng cums too, after Xie Lian, and admires the way he milks his cock with an unfocused gaze, lips slightly parted as if he wants to say something, but his voice is hoarse and his dry throat doesn't help either. In the end, he can only lean down to kiss Xie Lian's cheek and move down his neck to inhale the essence that, above all else, belongs only to him. No one else smells like home, no one else is his, only Xie Lian occupies the space of his entire being.

Hua Cheng lets his dick slowly get soft inside of Xie Lian's puffy hole before pulling out. Both collapse onto the bed, slumping as if unable to bear their own weight. Xie Lian turns his head, meeting Hua Cheng's gaze, staring at him intently, almost teasingly, so his eyes dart away from Hua Cheng's face.

Xie Lian is slightly embarrassed by the result of his desire. Hua Cheng's body, his pallor mirroring his own, is adorned with fang marks along his neck and the curve of his shoulder. Reddish lines are scattered haphazardly across his back, a testament to his desperation at not knowing how to control what he was feeling.

In some places, his nails have dug in scarlet crescents, the result of his insistence on clinging to Hua Cheng as he dissolved into a pool of passionate tears and moans that tore at his throat.

“San Lang…” Xie Lian begins, an apology catching in his throat, only to be interrupted by Hua Cheng’s mouth, saliva mixed with various fluids that taste salty and bitter, but which he doesn’t push away.

“Gege, I’m so happy.”

Xie Lian looks at him dumbfounded, tilting his head slightly to the left. Hua Cheng laughs softly and brushes the stray strands of hair from Xie Lian’s forehead to place a kiss there.

“I’m happy to have your marks all over my body. I wish they wouldn’t disappear.”

“What are you saying…”

“Or even better, if they disappear you can make them again-”

Xie Lian silences him by placing his hand over his mouth. In return, he receives a lick on the familiar mark that has been filled with saliva countless times today. Hua Cheng gets cuteness aggression; he loves seeing his gege a shy mess, so he pounces on him, showering his face with loud kisses.

For them, this is happiness, being together.

It's not the fleeting happiness of immersing oneself in a breathtaking landscape, nor that of a comforting caress or compassionate words; it's the enduring happiness that an unconditional love brings. A love that few mortals ever experience, let alone immortals who lose the very fervor of human desires in a life that seems to have passed.

They gaze at each other with overflowing love and find in each other's eyes the answer to their happiness.

By the time Shi Qingxuan returns the following month, completely clueless, Xie Lian decides to be somewhat subtle with the revelation of the relationship between Hua Cheng and himself.

“It'll no longer be necessary to pair us with other vampires.” Xie Lian admits with a nervous smile that makes Hua Cheng laugh softly behind him.

Shi Qingxuan doesn't lose his usual smile, although it takes him a moment to understand what Xie Lian means. After a couple of seconds, clarity dawns on him, and it makes him nod enthusiastically.

“I get it! Did each of you already find a partner? That was quick. I already want to meet these new fellas!”

Xie Lian doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.