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Wu Xie scratched at the day’s worth of stubble on his face, wondering whether he could get away with a quick shave and leave the shop unattended for a while. In the end he decided against it because he felt lazy, and sank deeper into the chair, crossing his arms behind his head so that he could still keep an eye on the entrance.
It had been a year since Xiaoge returned from the Gate, and everything was a blur of events when he tried thinking back on it. He could remember individual incidents clearly, but when he tried to rack his mind for a record of the last twelve months, all that came up was an aching sense of restlessness that had been with him all throughout. Xiaoge returning had fulfilled the dogged sense of purpose he had carried over the years, but he had somehow burnt himself out in that while and now he no longer trusted himself. He instead found himself waiting for things to go wrong. After all, most things he had cared about in his life had rarely been easy, so Wu Xie threw himself into the life he had right now, spending his days at Wushanju and taking over the antique business. He liked the quiet that it provided, and the way Pangzi had moved in, dragging Xiaoge here too, although he had a feeling that it wouldn’t last.
Wang Meng had taken the day off leaving him in charge of the shop for today and as he looked out at the cats sunning themselves on the wall, Wu Xie let his thoughts drift. He stared at the way they had curled up in that narrow space on top of the wall, it couldn’t be comfortable at all, and yet they were peacefully napping, oblivious to the world. Well, almost. Once or twice he could see their ears move to track birds around the courtyard.
It was not yet summer but the heat rolled off the courtyard outside and brought in the smell of old wood. There was even a slight breeze which rustled through the leaves and one of them landed on the nearest cat, startling it. It stared balefully at the leaf which was still on its back and then promptly fell back asleep without even making the effort to dislodge it. Wu Xie gave a short laugh and rested his head against the back of the chair, inordinately charmed by the cat’s insouciance. He was waiting for Xiaoge to come back and then he would close up for the day, because it wasn’t like the shop saw a lot of customers. Most people came in the mornings if they had any business, and from the afternoon onwards it was practically just Wang Meng hunched over his desk, playing games on his phone under the guise of checking records and breaking for lunch in the middle while preparing to close up in a few hours. Sometimes he wondered whether there was any reason to keep it open beyond the mornings, but it did help him save face in front of Ershu and stave off the long planned renovation.
He absolutely hadn’t dozed off but nonetheless started at the sound of someone in the outer room, and he peered through the doorway to see a woman leaning against the desk, her back turned to him.
Wu Xie hastened to put his feet into slippers and dragged his steps towards the desk, running a hand through his hair and fluffing it up where it had been flattened from resting against the chair.
Hearing him approach the woman turned around, and froze for the briefest while before schooling her expression back to normal. She was quite pretty, though not very young. Maybe she was in her late thirties, but there was an air of fragility around her which made her stand out somehow. She was wearing a simple button down dress which flared at her hips, and which flattered her shape incredibly.
“How may I..” Wu Xie began speaking only to have her interrupt.
“Guan laoshi,” the woman said almost at the same time, and stopped, waiting for him to continue.
Wu Xie started at the address, then looked back at her gaugingly.
That was a name he hadn’t heard in a while. Who was this person?
He made a gesture for her to speak, his curiosity piqued by the address, and she seemed to visibly pull herself together before starting to speak.
“I’m sorry, it’s an old habit. I was hoping you’d remember me. Maybe I should introduce myself after all.” she said, her eyes slipping from his face and moving down his slightly crumpled shirt before looking up again. “I’m Lan Ting, we met at a book meeting a long time back, I was a novice writer at that point and was there to attend a talk about the Badain Jaran desert.”
There must have been something on his face because the woman smiled and continued, “I had contacted you regarding a mystery of mine, we were associates, sort of,” she said, and placed her hands on the desk, her manicured nails on display against the dark wood.
Wu Xie looked back at her, a little impressed at the blatant suggestion in her words and then gestured her to sit, while he walked around the table to take Wang Meng’s chair.
Lan Ting.
It might as well have been a ghost.
The Lan Ting he knew had been rumoured to have died, and all her photos of the desert were bequeathed to him. He still had them somewhere in the numerous boxes which he had taken back with him after the raid and the cleanup afterwards. Lan Ting was the one who had come up to him talking about Gutongjing, and had asked him about her friend who had disappeared on a trip to the desert. Lan Ting had been just a face in his memory of that period, only one among a sea of faces he recalled meeting. This woman could be anybody at this point, and he wouldn’t even know.
“Guan laoshi,” the woman - Lan Ting - started speaking, then corrected herself. “or is it Wu laoshi? It’s been a while, and it was hard to find you, especially since the photographer Guan Gen didn’t exist, and the Hangzhou address to that name has long been demolished.”
Wu Xie leaned forward on his hands and looked up at Lan Ting’s face. The sources he had contacted told him Lan Ting had committed suicide, right after she had conducted a trip to the desert to look for her missing friend. That was around the same time that the photos had arrived in the mail, rerouted through a lawyer’s office. However, her body had not been found, only a small private funeral had been held by her family but Wu Xie had had a lot of pressing matters to attend to than puzzle over the mystery of a missing author at that point.
“What can I do for you?” Wu Xie said, picking up on the edge of nervousness in her as she unconsciously rubbed over a spot on her ring finger, clearly a self soothing habit she used to get over anxiety. She clearly couldn’t be here about the issue of her missing friend now, after all these years. There must be something else that she was looking for, if at all this was the Lan Ting he had met almost eight years ago.
“I remembered that you have my photos from my first trip to the desert,” Lan Ting said and then looked at him directly, “if it’s okay with you, I’d like to have them back. After all, they were my only memories of Daodao,” she said and hesitated, “I know she didn’t appear in the photos but I remember her in them, so it’s the same for me. However, I do realise it’s an inconvenience at this point and would like to make amends. How does dinner sound?”
Wu Xie blinked at her, momentarily lost for words.
“Dinner?”
“Or would tea be a better idea? Like the old times? Let me know, I’ll text you the location on the day we meet. This is my card,” she said and slipped an expensive looking card across the desk. “I’ll be waiting for your answer,” Lan Ting said and got up, pushing the chair back.
He wanted to ask her a dozen different questions, but felt it would be better to wait. If he couldn’t verify her identity, he could just cancel the next meeting and that would be it.
Wu Xie got to his feet, about to see her out when he noticed Xiaoge leaning against one of the wooden pillars, his hoodie drawn up over his head even in the heat, his eyes closed as if he was resting, but Wu Xie knew from his posture that he was fully alert.
Lan Ting looked up at him once while she was leaving, then tightened the grip around her bag and walked out, the click of her heels on the stone paving sounding loudly as she turned a corner and disappeared into a waiting car.
Xiaoge seemed to uncoil himself from the pillar, opening his eyes slowly, reminding Wu Xie more of the cats on the wall who had now vanished while he was talking to Lan Ting.
“Xiaoge?” Wu Xie asked, more out of the indulgence of calling out his name than for any other reason. He liked how the name rolled off his tongue, how smooth the syllables sounded, well worn over the years like the stones in the courtyard, sun-warm and gleaming in the afternoon light. He also remembered the time when he couldn’t bear to hear this address in public, anger coiling in his belly the moment he heard it - and it must have been Lan Ting’s visit that reminded him of those days. After all he met hundreds of people in that time, trying to see if they could lead him to what he wanted, but as he thought back, he remembered a bright eyed woman who had called herself Lan Ting - with authors one never knew whether the names they were using were real or not - and who had followed him outside after a meeting to talk to him about the desert. He knew she was interested in him, how her eyes kept moving up to his face and how she tilted her body towards him every time she was near him, how her fingers had brushed over his hands as they looked over the photos. He had forgotten all of it, he realised, and it was only this sudden meeting that seemed to unlock all of those memories that he had shoved to the back of his mind after all of it was over.
“Do you want tea?” Wu Xie said, picking up on the suggestion Lan Ting left behind.
Xiaoge looked at him carefully and gave a minuscule shrug - a gesture so small that no one but Wu Xie would be able to pick up on it - and Wu Xie found himself smiling at that.
“I’ll make some then,” he said and went inside the shop. When he returned with a pot of the new Longjin tea he had got recently, Xiaoge was sitting on the steps, his hood down and sword laid down at his side.
Wu Xie had managed to get them cups too, so he put down the pot on the smooth polished wood which still gave off a faint musty smell, and poured out a cup for Xiaoge.
“Here,” he said, extending the cup to Xiaoge who intercepted his move perfectly, long fingers curling around his hand briefly before he took the cup from him.
Wu Xie watched, mesmerised as Xiaoge took a sip of the tea without blowing on it, watched the faint motion of his throat as he swallowed it. He wanted to keep looking as long as he could. It was selfish but he wanted Xiaoge to be somewhere he could see, look at, be within easy reach, where all he had to do was call him and he would appear. It was such a bad habit, he thought, but he couldn’t stop looking, couldn’t stop hoping. After all, he hadn’t expected to live this long, especially since he had been slowly preparing to die for years, and he had accepted that as part of himself. He had never thought himself as a particularly greedy person, since he always had things given to him by his family while growing up, but he had always wanted that one thing which he didn’t have, he realised. He wanted to feel alive, he wanted to live through things. Being part of the Iron Triangle had fulfilled some of those fantasies. But he was getting old. Hence he found himself hoping for more at times.
“Was she a lover?” Xiaoge asked, his voice smooth and low and awakening something deep inside Wu Xie.
“What?” Wu Xie said, taking time to focus on what Xiaoge said. “No,” he added a moment later, suddenly anxious to dispense with the idea. “She was someone I had met years back, when I was looking for Gutongjin,” he said slowly, noting how Xiaoge’s expression shifted at the mention, “Anyway, it was a long time back and I have no idea why she even looked for me or even knew where to look,” Wu Xie laughed, the idea of Lan Ting’s visit becoming more and more ridiculous by the moment, “I was using an alias, so I’m surprised she managed to track me down after all this time.”
“Did you have other lovers?” Xiaoge said after a while, setting down his cup.
Wu Xie looked at him, a little bemused by the curiosity Xiaoge was expressing in his...love life. As if he had one. Or had one in the conventional sense at least.
“Why do you suddenly want to know?” he teased, shifting to rest his head on his arm and holding out the tea in the other, delighting in the way Xiaoge’s eyes went to his cup before coming back to his face.
“I heard from Pangzi,” was all Xiaoge said and it finally clicked. Of course it had to be Pangzi’s idea of a joke. God they were old enough to be mature about things, or so Wu Xie had thought. Obviously Pangzi’s mind ran on a different track than his.
“What did he say?” Wu Xie asked, now morbidly curious about the rumour.
“You were lonely,” Xiaoge said, and somehow the words knocked the breath out of Wu Xie, and he had lived through enough blows in his life to be a goddamn veteran at it now.
He looked away, because he couldn’t face Xiaoge’s eyes on him at the moment, and busied himself with the tea which had now gone cold. Yes, he had been terribly, bitterly lonely, but Xiaoge didn’t have to know that. Goddamn Pangzi and his blabbering. Everything was fine, he was fine, they were all fine, why did Pangzi have to bring that up now out of all times?
“I didn’t know,” Xiaoge said, his eyes still on Wu Xie, his entire attention focused on him and it was a heady feeling, to be the object of this man’s sole attention, it felt like all of his senses were narrowing down to a single line of vision and that was this beautiful, beautiful man in front of him, a man who had shouldered burdens which should have rightfully been his, and a man whom he didn’t want to lose again.
“You could tell me what to do.”
Wu Xie heard Xiaoge speak, but had no idea what he even meant, or if he meant what Wu Xie thought he meant. Xiaoge seldom asked for things, but it seemed like he was asking for something now. Something that Wu Xie could give. Something he wanted to do for Wu Xie.
“I want you,” Wu Xie said honestly, because surviving had made him bold. “I’ve always wanted you. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t want you.” It was strange how the first few words got out, the rest followed easily. “I don’t know what to call it really, I’m just glad I got to know you,” Wu Xie said, blushing like a teenager because it was the last bit that was the hardest to get out of his chest, and it was the closest he had ever come to a confession, he realised.
For a moment he was afraid he had said the wrong thing, because Xiaoge didn’t move, didn’t speak, but also didn’t drop his gaze. A small part of him was screaming at him at the way he had put it, but the more rational part of him was following Xiaoge’s eyes which didn’t waver.
“You already have me,” Xiaoge said and leaned forward, moving up his head slightly to expose his neck to Wu Xie’s view. It was pale, like the rest of him, but appeared paler against the dark jersey fabric of the hoodie he was now wearing. Through the years of training alongside Hei Xiazi, Wu Xie knew how closely guarded Xiaoge’s stance was, even while resting. How he would never leave his neck or chest open where it could be easily attacked. How the line of his body was always aligned to place the weight on his heel and how quickly he could twist his waist to change his direction in case of a threat. To see Xiaoge suddenly with that stretch of pale skin exposed seemed almost like he was offering himself up to him, and that was...a dangerous line of thought.
On a ruse, Wu Xie rushed out to touch him, and Xiaoge was calm throughout, not even a flinch or a blink of his perfectly sloped eyelashes. His cheek was warm. Smooth and warm, and Wu Xie just kept his hand there, shocked with the warmth flooding him. He didn’t know how long he stayed with his hand cupping Xiaoge’s cheek and Xiaoge staying perfectly still, allowing him to touch, to hold. He finally had the presence of mind to move his hands, tracing the shape of his jaw, his cheekbones, the slope of his nose. When his fingers inched higher, Xiaoge closed his eyes, and Wu Xie felt a shudder go through him at the gesture. He used the pad of his fingers to explore the shape of his eyes, moving across the ridge of his eye socket, moving up to his eyebrows which felt soft like fur, unlike his own which were bristly. Xiaoge’s hair was fine and soft, reminding him of the smooth soft fur of the cats he was watching, catching the shine from the sunlight which was sloping across the steps now, catching Xiaoge’s hair in a warm halo.
Wu Xie had slept with other people before, however he couldn’t call them lovers, sometimes he barely even knew them. This is why he half expected his mind to throw up a long forgotten memory of sleeping with Lan Ting. But there weren’t any, and he felt oddly relieved at that. He liked sex, had used it as a distraction for some time, but had got quickly bored with it. He had never seen it as something important, to be built up to. He had never burned hot and cold at the idea of it. Which he was now going through, his hands trembling even as they tried to greedily touch every bit of offered skin on Xiaoge’s face. This...was different.
He wanted to touch. He wanted to see. He wanted to feel every bit of Xiaoge under his fingers. But he could also wait. He didn’t want to rush Xiaoge into something he wasn’t sure he wanted.
So he let his hand drop, catching a bit of the shirt along the way, which was also deliciously warm from Xiaoge’s body.
“What do you want, Wu Xie?” Xiaoge asked him, the directness of his address shocking him to his senses. What was he even thinking?
Wu Xie gathered up the cups and the pot from the steps and stood up stiffly, the flush receding from his cheeks and making his skin tingle unpleasantly.
“I’ll make some more tea,” he said weakly and turned around, but Xiaoge was faster. He twisted his way into his path, effectively blocking him.
“I want you to tell me,” Xiaoge said, his gaze dropping to Wu Xie’s lips and staying there.
Wu Xie took a step back, and saw how Xiaoge moved a bit closer to bridge the distance. He couldn’t think at all when Xiaoge was looking at him like that. He wanted so much, but was also stupidly afraid of messing things up. He didn’t even know what Xiaoge wanted, whether he even had a register for what he was initiating.
“I want to sleep with you,” Wu Xie said finally, because his throat felt uncomfortably tight and Xiaoge wasn’t budging. Even though he was in the middle of an open space he felt absolutely cornered and was also shocked to realise that he quite liked the feeling.
“That can be arranged,” Xiaoge said calmly, without taking his eyes off him.
“You’re okay with that?” Wu Xie asked him, unable to keep the tone of surprise out of his voice. “Have you even...did you ever…” he trailed off, unsure of how to ask whether Xiaoge had ever been with someone before. He must have surely, given how long he had lived, maybe he didn’t remember them. But surely Xiaoge had had other lovers before?
“Yes,” Xiaoge told him, studying him like he was a very interesting specimen of wildlife that he was tracking at the moment.
“Yes to both things?” Wu Xie said, his voice breaking and he felt a terrible urge to laugh, and he must have made some kind of expression because he saw the ghost of a smile appear on Xiaoge’s face, and that finally did it for him.
He started laughing, the sound shocking him at first but he kept laughing uncontrollably, because he somehow couldn’t believe he had actually said it out loud and that Xiaoge had been so understanding. It wasn’t right, but he couldn’t stop himself from laughing, his eyes were tearing up, his nose was almost running and he was a mess, but he felt so goddamn alive.
When his laughter subsided, Wu Xie furiously pawed at his nose to keep it from dripping, reluctantly bringing up a corner of his shirt sleeve to dab at his eyes. When he finally looked up, he saw Xiaoge looking at him with a fond expression, his eyes appearing softer in the fading light.
“I wanted to tell you so many things,” Wu Xie said, the moment stretching out between them, loosening his tongue. “I lived so long without you that I don’t know what to do with you now that you’re here.”
“I know,” Xiaoge said, so quietly that for a moment Wu Xie thought whether he had imagined it. “Say them,” he added, a little more clearly and Wu Xie started. “Say all of the things you wanted to tell me. I’d like to hear them.”
Wu Xie’s knees felt suspiciously weak and he almost slid down to sit on the steps.
Xiaoge followed, sitting down next to him, folding his legs under him and turning to face Wu Xie.
He didn’t know what he saw at that moment, but Wu Xie couldn’t stop himself. He talked himself hoarse, pausing only when he ran out of breath, taking the warm press of Xiaoge’s hand on his as encouragement and starting to speak again.
He told him of the nights when he had drank himself until he passed out, unwilling to think on what the future held for him. Of the times he had come close to giving up, folding under the pain of not realising, not knowing what something was until it was already gone. Of the time when he remade himself into someone he only vaguely recognised, becoming Guan Gen, and then relentlessly hunting down his enemies, taking risks, regretting, faltering, but never stepping back. The trek up the mountain, which he couldn’t forget to this day. The nightmares he woke up from. The faces he saw who were no longer there. He told Xiaoge all of it.
They were still sitting huddled together on the steps, too numb to talk anymore but unwilling to let go of the closeness which came from the flood of words, watching the evening descend slowly around them, when Pangzi returned.
“Did we get robbed, Tianzhen?” Pangzi hollered at the entrance, and Wu Xie heard him stumble. It was then that he realised that he had forgotten to switch on the lights.
“Are you alive? Make some sound so that I know!” Pangzi said, cursing under his breath until he managed to switch on a pocket torch which Wu Xie knew he carried for emergencies.
“Fuck!” Pangzi said eloquently when he focused the light on the steps and it fell on them.
Wu Xie blinked at the bright light in his eyes, his lips curving up on their own.
“Hi?” he said, smiling wider, almost blinded by the light.
“I’ll be in the kitchen, frying up pork trotters for dinner,” Pangzi said loudly, stomping across the courtyard. “Only come in when you’re both decent!”
“But we are both decent right now!” Wu Xie exclaimed and heard Xiaoge huff out a laugh next to him.
“Whatever! I’ve seen enough! I’m leaving after dinner anyway!” Pangzi yelled back, disappearing inside.
Wu Xie looked back at Xiaoge, not really seeing him, but feeling the heat from his body next to him and smiled to himself. There was time still, he thought, not knowing why it had never occurred to him before.
There was time.
For the both of them.