Work Text:
Following Cheng Xiaoshi’s lead as they weave through the thick market crowd, school uniform still perfectly tucked in, Lu Guang is looking so confused.
Which Cheng Xiaoshi can’t blame him for, what they’re doing is straying from the routine they’ve built over these last 2 months. The comfortable beats of finishing class, meeting up and dumping their school bags in Cheng Xiaoshi’s freshly refurbished studio, before either studying or skipping to the neighborhood’s public basketball court for a quick game, followed by, of course, hours of just hanging out in the studio yet again.
Don’t misunderstand, just because Cheng Xiaoshi is the one who breaks their routine, doesn’t mean he dislikes it. Quite the opposite, he loves having a friend to hang out with, something he was denied during his younger years. But this detour is important, he promises.
Cheng Xiaoshi is sure Lu Guang will enjoy what comes out of this.
Looking at Lu Guang’s expression once again, Cheng Xiaoshi wonders what’s going on in Lu Guang’s head. So far he’s not asking questions, nor is he resisting Cheng Xiaoshi’s lead. Does he think they’re going to the market for some food? They do buy snacks sometimes, crackers and sodas from Shu-ayi’s store a block away from home. Or maybe Lu Guang thinks Cheng Xiaoshi is bringing him along for an errand, he did mention cooking to Lu Guang a couple times, so maybe he thinks they’re buying ingredients for the week. Or maybe he thinks Cheng Xiaoshi needed supplies for a school project, but that’s unlikely, Lu Guang should know they have no project due soon.
Well, in just a few minutes, Lu Guang would know exactly what they’re here for, exactly as they turn to face the small stall of a road-side locksmith. Quickly greeting the locksmith and passing his key to the uncle. Cheng Xiaoshi turns around to find Lu Guang with a thoughtful expression on his face.
“Did you lose your keys?” Lu Guang finally asks, eyes filled with a clear hint of teasing.
Any other day, Cheng Xiaoshi would’ve taken the bait. Voice loud as he refutes, saying how he’s not that irresponsible. But today is a good day thus he gives his own teasing smile in return, “Nope,” he cheekily answers, “you know as well as I do that that’s my key.” It has the dog-shaped charm and everything hanging off the handle.
Behind him, he hears the clinking of metal as the locksmith ruffles through his box of spare template keys, taking one to modify. In front of him, Lu Guang releases a sound of even more confusion. Hah, usually Cheng Xiaoshi is the one full of those sounds during their study sessions. How the tables have turned.
Taking pity on his friend, and figuring this might as well be as good of a time as any, Cheng Xiaoshi finally spills the whole reason they’ve come here. “It’s for you.”
Lu Guang is clearly shocked by that, if he was drinking he probably would’ve done a spit take. But Cheng Xiaoshi doesn’t get why it's such a surprise, Lu Guang has been spending nearly all his free time after school in the studio, staying as late as he’s able to reason to his parents. It seems like a reasonable thing to do.
Besides, Cheng Xiaoshi is getting tired of Lu Guang waking him up during a nap just to tell him he’s heading home and to lock the doors behind him. Not to mention the incident last Saturday, with Lu Guang stranded before the front door under the pouring rain while Cheng Xiaoshi himself rushed back from the store, a plastic bag filled with supplies gripped tightly as he worried over Lu Guang’s health.
Seeing Lu Guang curled up on his sofa in his hoodie and a bunch of blankets was cute, but he would rather have his friend not catch a cold, thanks.
Still, Lu Guang doesn’t seem to get his reasoning. “But it’s your house, I don’t want to intrude,” he responds, “And what about Qiao Ling-jie, and her dad? It’s their property.”
Lu Guang got a point, Cheng Xiaoshi hasn't actually talked about it with Qiao Ling… and he probably should. The prolonged silence and Cheng Xiaoshi’s nervous laugh is enough to get Lu Guang to whip out his phone, hands quick to dial the one person Cheng Xiaoshi wishes he wouldn’t, ignoring Cheng Xiaoshi’s quick and unreliable claim that, “It’s all fineee. You don’t need to call her, it should be fine~”
Ring~ Ring~ Ri–
Cheng Xiaoshi is not quick enough. Nor is he close enough to hear Qiao Ling’s greetings to Lu Guang’s from the phone’s speaker. But he is close enough to hear her after Lu Guang tells her of the situation.
“CHENG! XIAO! SHI!” Her anger was punctuated in every syllable, he couldn't help but wince. Even Lu Guang had to bring his phone away from his ears. A hint of fear in his eyes as he passes the phone to Cheng Xiaoshi’s reluctant hands, or maybe Cheng Xiaoshi was just projecting his own fears for he knew the wrath coming for him.
Across the line, Qiao Ling is stern, and curt. They’re probably disturbing her own after school hangout with her girl friends and soured her mood even more. Cheng Xiaoshi can hear it in every sentence she utters, in return making him reply with tense nervousness.
“You should have informed me.”
“I’m sorry. Yes, I should have.”
“We are going to have a talk this evening.”
“I’m having Lu Guang over this evening.”
“We are going to talk about this, Cheng Xiaoshi.”
“Yes! This evening works!”
“Good. Pass the phone back to Lu Guang, please.”
Cheng Xiaoshi does as he’s asked. Slightly jealous as he hears Qiao Ling’s voice softens for Lu Guang, even as he questions the snippet he heard. Something about how it would’ve been easier if Lu Guang moved in? He’s probably heard it wrong.
Lu Guang turns his back and moves away from him, for some semblance of privacy. Discussing whatever needed to be discussed with Qiao Ling. The phone call was not long enough for Cheng Xiaoshi to get bored, but it was enough that by the time Lu Guang ends the call and turns around, Cheng Xiaoshi already has his phone out to pay for the locksmith’s service.
Taking his key, and Lu Guang’s new key back from the locksmith, Cheng Xiaoshi asks what Qiao Ling has said.
“Nothing much, she needed to ask her dad for help, but for security reasons she wants a copy of my ID, student ID for now.” Lu Guang briefly explains.
Cheng Xiaoshi isn’t listening though, all he understands is that Qiao Ling agrees to give Lu Guang this copy. He’s so giddy that his hands struggle to open the front pocket of his school bag, pulling out the thing he has previously prepared and connecting it to the newly acquired key.
Grabbing one of Lu Guang’s hands, Cheng Xiaoshi drops the new key straight into his friend’s open palm. “Then this key is now officially yours!” He exclaims. The key rests firmly in the middle, and from this top-down view Cheng Xiaoshi can examine it clearly.
From the handle, the kitten-shaped charm he prepared dangles, matching his own dog-headed key. The key looks sturdy, with a smooth metallic glean, rounded handles and a brand name that’s been proudly embossed to its head.
A job well done, fitting for Lu Guang.
Or maybe they were just lucky. Cheng Xiaoshi saw how the locksmith picked this template, careless and random. They could’ve ended up with a whole differently looking key. Rusty, rough, weak. Honestly, who could’ve known? Not him.
Not that it matters. What matters is that Lu Guang has a key, with the same bites and grooves as his. Able to open the studio door at any time.
Slinging an arm across Lu Guang’s shoulders, he can’t help but pull him along towards home, “Come on, I want to see you use that key.”
Lu Guang lets him, securing his key in his pocket as he sighs and gives half-hearted struggles to throw Cheng Xiaoshi’s weight off of him. “You could’ve at least let me pay for the locksmith,” he complains, and isn’t that a delightful complaint. Cheng Xiaoshi knew Lu Guang would’ve liked this idea.
It just makes him hold Lu Guang closer, tighter, enough to unbalance his steps and makes him laugh, “You can pay me back with snacks from Shu-ayi’s store. Deal?”
“... Deal.”
—
It’s been roughly a year since Lu Guang moved into the studio with Cheng Xiaoshi. Long enough for Lu Guang to develop favorite spots in his home. For Lu Guang, that is the sunroom’s couch, big enough for him to lounge in and in the perfect spot to catch the sun rays.
From where he’s currently lying down on the sunroom couch, Lu Guang can see that the sky looks so deceptively clear. The sun clearly shining down on his eyes and making squint against its light.
The sky is a lie and Lu Guang knows it’s a lie because he has lived this day before.
He knows things he shouldn’t, like the fact that there would be no customers today, or that at any moment now, thumps would be heard from above as Cheng Xiaoshi excitedly rushes downstairs to greet Lu Guang. And just as expected, those loud thumps came followed by a shadow that breeches his personal space, hiding the warm sun from Lu Guang’s face as he opens his eyes to meet Cheng Xiaoshi’s own hanging over him, bent over the couch expectantly as he exclaims.
“Let’s go to the fair today!”
Hair falling perfectly to frame his face, perfectly dressed in a light jacket fitting for the weather, and smelling like soap fresh out of a shower. Lu Guang would say he’s happy to see him, but then Cheng Xiaoshi proceeds to move in front of the couch, shoving Lu Guang’s feet off and ignoring his grumbled protests to make room for himself.
“Pleaseee, Lu Guang,” Cheng Xiaoshi begs, body leaning in close and putting more weight onto Lu Guang the more he struggles. “We don’t have any pending jobs, and the fair is only around until the end of the week. We can buy cheap food and play stupid games, maybe watch the fireworks.”
Despite all of Cheng Xiaoshi’s reasoning, Lu Guang stays silent. Less out of a desire not to answer and more out of a struggle to talk squished between Cheng Xiaoshi’s weight and the couch’s armrest. Seriously, even though he has lived through this before, somehow Lu Guang still falls for the same trick Cheng Xiaoshi always employs.
Finally, with a final push against Cheng Xiaoshi’s cheeks, Lu Guang can finally breathe. Sitting upright while Cheng Xiaoshi takes his turn to sprawl all over the other armrest. It’s unfair how freely Cheng Xiaoshi can laugh after their brief struggle, meanwhile Lu Guang feels out of breath.
Cheng Xiaoshi’s voice is clear as he brings up one last reason, one last plea for Lu Guang to accept his invitation, “It’s the perfect weather to go!”
And Lu Guang is still breathless and wheezing when he answers a simple, “No.”
Yet even with Lu Guang’s sure answer, he knows Cheng Xiaoshi will not give up. He has lived this day before, after all. Cheng Xiaoshi would present his “cool” outfit, talk about how boring the last few days have been, and bribe Lu Guang with promises of buying him food as if they don’t share the same income. Then for some reason or another, Lu Guang ends up under the open air and between the crowd and the stalls of the fair.
Except, what he remembers doesn’t happen here. All that happens is Cheng Xiaoshi slumping down in despair as he yields, drawing out the vowels as he answers, “Fiiine.”
And that’s not right.
That’s not right at all.
This is Cheng Xiaoshi he’s talking to, he should be pushing Lu Guang’s boundaries and physically pulling Lu Guang out the door. Sure, Lu Guang did say no and he won’t lie, Lu Guang didn’t only say no because that’s what he remembered he did and should do. Lu Guang genuinely was not interested in the festival, the overwhelming sounds and crowded space does not appeal to him, nor is knowledge of the rain that will drench them to the bone after a couple hours. But they should be heading to the festival, no matter what Lu Guang says.
Because no matter how much Lu Guang detests his festival experience, what comes after outshines the bad like the sun overhead.
Standing beneath the trees, clothes heavy and still dripping wet, with his hands still held tightly within Cheng Xiaoshi’s own. Soft whispers and meaningful words between them. He wants that.
And he’s not going to get that if they don’t go to the festival. So from there comes the question,
“That’s it?” Lu Guang can’t stop himself from asking in shock, “No more arguments? You’re not going to force me to go anyway?” Why? What changed? Was it something he did? Will this change become dangerous? He doesn’t want Cheng Xiaoshi to die.
Contrasted with Lu Guang’s internal panic, Cheng Xiaoshi simply shrugs, saying his reason as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. “Your face says it’s a bad idea, and you’re usually right.”
That makes no sense to Lu Guang, at all. So he can only listen in silence as Cheng Xiaoshi walks down memory lane to elaborate.
“It’s like, sometimes you would look extra cautious and bad things actually happen? Like that time in 3rd grade when you got a stomach ache the moment we stepped onto the bus and it turns out there was road work ahead? Or… that time in our last year of college when you whined about walking to the movies and it turns out the movie is shit? Or was that the class reunion when Qiao Ling spilled her soup? Well you get it, don’t you?”
Yes, Lu Guang does get it. He thought it didn't matter, they were little forgettable moments of hesitance, it should not be alarming, it should not change the timeline, he still went through the events that came, nothing changed. Except something does, Cheng Xiaoshi does. Because Lu Guang has changed, has hesitated, has complained, has felt bad and wanted to change everything, even beyond Cheng Xiaoshi’s demise. And now his hesitance has demanded he pay, the price being a precious memory shared only between himself and the Cheng Xiaoshi of his past life.
That’s not fair.
His hands clenched, his expression tense. Why does he feel so scared? Why does Lu Guang feel like crying? Why does it feel like he’s losing Cheng Xiaoshi all over again? Why does he want to curse time and the world itself? All over a single memory he hasn’t even technically lost yet, not for another couple hours at least.
The terror he’s experiencing does not go unnoticed by Cheng Xiaoshi, concern etched into his face as he leans closer. “Lu Guang,” he cautiously approached, “Hey, what’s happening in that brain of yours?”
With a deep breath, Lu Guang composes himself, or at least tries his very best to. “It’s nothing,” and it really is nothing. He has lost nothing yet, Cheng Xiaoshi is still sitting here beside him and that’s the most important thing. One measly conversation, drowned beneath the heavy rain, is nothing.
Yet despite Lu Guang’s insistence, Cheng Xiaoshi continues staring at him, studying him, pondering. “Am I wrong?” he finally asks, “Do you actually want to go to the fair?”
Lu Guang’s silence is all the answer Cheng Xiaoshi needs.
“You’re hesitant, but you want to.”
Close enough. “I have a bad feeling about it, but I feel like we should be there.”
“We should?”
“... That whatever happens, something good will follow.” Lu Guang admits, a little spoiler for the future. If it ever came to pass. “I want to.”
And that’s all Cheng Xiaoshi needs to hear. With a sure nod, he easily concludes, “Then we’ll go to the fair.”
That was it. Somehow for Cheng Xiaoshi it was that simple, with a single sentence he releases all worries and tension Lu Guang held. They went to the festival, Cheng Xiaoshi bought them snacks as promised, and he won Lu Guang a plushie, they got rained on, and slipped on the run home, and they talked. It’s different, it’s so undeniably different from the talk Lu Guang remembers, but the fact that it happened at all is so overwhelmingly relieving.
And it’s all because this Cheng Xiaoshi listened to him, more than he usually does.
—
It’s not everyday Cheng Xiaoshi would find himself jumping over the turnstile leading to the campus’ soccer field. But what is a college experience without doing some dumb stuff with friends? Though, that still doesn’t quite explain everything. So,
“Why are we doing this again?” Cheng Xiaoshi complains, the half-filled crate of beers clinking as he lifts them above the turnstile. Behind him, Lu Guang’s arms are carrying two full bags of snacks. In front of him, Dong Yi clutches the stacks of worn blankets.
Then the two perpetrators up front turn their heads. In their arms, nothing but the flashlight of their phone.
“It’s the end of finals you dolt,” Qiao Ling exasperatedly says, “We’re going to celebrate.”
Next to her, Xu Shanshan’s answer was filled with a little more fury, “If you don’t wanna join, you could’ve just left.”
“I– We’re pretty much already here!” he already done all this hard work, why would he leave? And he does want to join, he likes hanging out with his friends, it’s just… Why all of the sudden? And in the middle of the night.
This idea was so spontaneous that he was still in his sweats and sleep shirts, Lu Guang was lucky enough to grab a random jacket to cover his old tee. And the girls might be wearing proper pants but Cheng Xiaoshi can see Qiao Ling’s pink pajamas beneath her hoodie. Dong Yi was the only one who managed to dress properly, and he already gave up his sweater for Xu Shanshan.
He was about to ask but both of the girls had already turned their backs, clutching each other's arms and walking away into the field. Ugh, girls and whatever goes on in their shared dorm room.
At least both Lu Guang and Dong Yi share his fate of being a pack mule, though he bets carrying blankets creates less strain than this crate. It also seems like they know what he was about to ask, since Lu Guang chimes in.
“Tomorrow is summer break,” Lu Guang says, as if that explains anything.
“It’s a farewell party,” Dong Yi adds, “Xu Shanshan lives on the other side of the city from Qiao Ling.”
Oh. Now that he thinks about it, that’s true. Qiao Ling and Xu Shanshan will go from spending every night together to only meeting a couple of times in the next three months, and that’s if they’re lucky. Cheng Xiaoshi himself isn’t as close to Xu Shanshan as Qiao Ling, nor is he that close with Dong Yi compared to Lu Guang, but even he can admit he’ll miss them.
Cheng Xiaoshi will miss playing league in the back of the class, or spending time studying together, or quarreling in the groupchat to decide on lunch.
This impromptu picnic is a good idea, he’ll stop complaining for now.
Hence he finds himself on the edge of this thin blanket. Shoes off behind him, a crate of beer as well as an assortment of snacks in the center as everyone else takes their seat. Qiao Ling leaning against Xu Shanshan’s side to his left, Xu Shanshan’s legs extended within a breath distance from Dong Yi’s folded knees, the knees that are brushing against Lu Guang’s own crossed legs, who Cheng Xiaoshi is leaning into from the side.
Wet grass soaks the blanket and dampens their pants. Tall growing weeds tickling their exposed ankles. Shoes slightly muddy from the soft soil underneath. Lit only by the moon up above and their phone’s flashlight placed awkwardly against various thighs and bags.
They’re settled for the night, discussing random finals questions as they each reach for the opening act. Xu Shanshan bothers Dong Yi to pass her a beer, Qiao Ling reaches for a bag of cheese sticks, and Cheng Xiaoshi passes a box of pocky towards Lu Guang who seems content to just sit there and watch the others fumble through the pile.
It’s supposed to be smooth sailing from there. Except well, “Did we bring any scissors?” Qiao Ling asks, arms extended to pass the bag. The thick plastic of the cheese stick packaging mangled, but untorn. The grass is wet, so is their blanket, and the hands they’ve placed on them. “My hands are too slippery to open this.”
Dong Yi, kindhearted as always, and willing to do anything once Xu Shanshan is anywhere near him, grabs the offered bag and tries to open it in any way he can. Pure grip strength in hopes it tears, squeezing in hopes it’ll burst, and even biting in hopes for a puncture. None of it seems to work.
Cheng Xiaoshi can’t help but laugh, gesturing to the center of the blanket, “What’s the use of preparing all these,” he wheezes, “If you can’t open them.”
He probably deserves the following bonk from Xu Shanshan, and the bag of candy a pouty Qiao Ling threw at his face.
Dong Yi, ever the peacemaker, tries to calm the girls down with solutions. “What about eating utensils?” he inquires, “Did we bring chopsticks, or a fork?” His hands making vague stabbing gestures towards the bag.
When neither of the girls reply though, his expression falters too.
That is until Lu Guang reaches for the bag. “Here,” he asks. In Lu Guang’s hand, a metallic glint is seen, he’s holding a key. Holding the bag firmly, he places the key against its side and begins moving the key back-and-forth. All of them watch intently as Lu Guang makes friction against the bag, until finally, a small notch has been made.
Lu Guang puts away the key and tears the notch into a bigger hole, making Qiao Ling’s smile wider as she finally receives access to her cheese sticks.
“This is why you’re single, Cheng Xiaoshi,” Xu Shanshan’s teasing voice suddenly chimes in, “When a girl needs help, you help her. Don't laugh at her.”
Wow . Unsolicited advice from someone who also didn’t help, but most importantly, “You don’t have a boyfriend either,” he bites back. In fact, no one in their friend group has a significant other.
She just hmmps at his reply before going back to her bottle of beer.
Or, she would have, if the bottle cap is actually open. Alas, all she could do is laugh sheepishly as she holds it out across the blanket towards Lu Guang. “Can you open this too?”
A crate of beer— granted only half filled, but still a crate nonetheless— and no bottle opener? Cheng Xiaoshi bursts out laughing, again.
While he’s busy cackling like a maniac though, Lu Guang takes the bottle. Holding the neck as he gives the metal cap a closer inspection.
It was quiet as Lu Guang pulled out his key once again, broken only by a confession, “I’ve never tried before,” the end of his key now braced against the metal cap, he offers, “But I can try.”
His fingers tensed, forearm flexes, teeth gritted. Lu Guang is ready to pry this cap open with all his strength. Cheng Xiaoshi watches closely in bated breath, a mental countdown starting in his head. Some small part of him notices that the others do the same, but his focus stays on Lu Guang’s hands. Ready for the moment that cap pops open. Any time now, in three, two, o–
“Wait–” Xu Shanshan’s voice suddenly breaks through whatever trance the group has placed themselves into. She stands in a hurry, clumsily stepping into her sandals and taking a couple steps back, hands on Qiao Ling’s sleeve subtly begging her to do the same. “What if the cap flew open and hit us? Wasn’t there news about someone going blind after getting hit by a cap?”
That got everyone to back down, and fast. Qiao Ling follows Xu Shanshan’s lead and backs away, Cheng Xiaoshi leans back a considerable amount, and Lu Guang lightens his grip.
It’s Dong Yi, who stays the most level-headed as per usual. Nudging Lu Guang with his phone, open to a wikihow page titled ‘How to Open Your Beer Bottles’. An article Lu Guang gives a quick read before passing the phone back, adjusting his grip on the key.
This time, he braces the flat side of the key against the metal cap’s ridges. Pointer on the top and thumb underneath for leverage, just like Dong Yi’s article instructed.
Lu Guang starts bracing himself, and Xu Shanshan’s story rings through everyone’s head. The girls cowers into each other, Dong Yi steps up as some sort of shield for the girls. Cheng Xiaoshi considered joining them and their huddle but decided against it.
Instead, he crouches behind Lu Guang. Hands resting on the other’s shoulder, in hopes it would move fast enough if the cap did fly towards Lu Guang’s face… or something. He’s not optimistic he could do something, but he will try.
Either way, he’s leaning close enough that he can feel Lu Guang’s chest expands as he takes a breath, the way his muscles tensed as his grip tightens, his nervousness as he angles the bottle neck away from his direction.
Cheng Xiaoshi never realized how loud a group of five can be until they're all standing in silence like this.
Then without warning, Lu Guang moves. His elbow flicks, his fingers snap. Dong Yi stumbles backwards and Xu Shanshan squeals.
plop.
All that, and the cap didn’t even lift more than a centimeter. Slowly everyone returns to the blanket, Cheng Xiaoshi too removes himself from Lu Guang’s back. Eyes still staring at the bottle within Lu Guang’s grasp.
He doesn’t know who started it, but in seconds their group is laughing maniacally.
“Hey,” Cheng Xiaoshi chides the brown haired girl, “You got all of us scared for nothing!” How anticlimactic.
She would not take that lying down. “Not my fault,” she rebukes between laughs, “I wasn’t expecting that either.” In her hand is the open beer bottle Lu Guang has passed.
Cheng Xiaoshi really wanted to push her buttons some more, but before he even opens his mouth, a flying chip hits his forehead. From across the blanket, Qiao Ling still has her arms outstretched, bag of chips on her lap and a scolding on her tongue. “Stop fighting you two! We’re here to celebrate.” Gesturing to the rest of the crate, she commands, “Lu Guang, open four more, we should do a toast!”
Thus began Lu Guang’s career as a beer bottle opener. Short lived as it is, because just as he’s about the fifth bottle, the final one they need to cheer, a sound rings out. Instead of the previous plops , this time they get a
snap .
“Aakh,” Lu Guang flinches as his left hand flies to straddle his right. The beer bottle and key he was holding clattering to the soft blanket. It moves everyone into a frenzy.
Qiao Ling and Xu Shanshan rushed forward out of concern, stopped only by Dong Yi thinking of potential glass shards from the dropped bottle, and Cheng XIaoshi pounced, grabbing Lu Guang’s hands to inspect the harm for himself.
“I’m fine,” Lu Guang resists, even as Dong Yi finally lets the girls pass and they join Cheng Xiaoshi in fussing over him. “I was just startled.” And that seems to be the case. There’s a long scratch running up the back of Lu Guang’s hand, probably from his hand slipping against the rough metal cap. Not deep, not concerning, though there are small droplets of blood on the surface, it disappears the moment Cheng Xiaoshi pressed it against a damp tissue.
That’s reassuring. Still, “What happened?” he inquires. Lu Guang opened the four previous bottles perfectly, what’s so different with this one?
That’s where Dong Yi comes with answers. In his hands he holds up two pieces of flat silver, “The key’s busted.” In his left hand the long piece with the grooves and ridges, and in his right hand the round smooth handle with a familiar charm.
Wait.
“Lu Guang, isn’t that the studio’s key?” Cheng Xiaoshi can’t help but ask in disbelief. Why would Lu Guang use that to pry open bottles, “Didn’t you always complain about how brittle it feels?”
At that Lu Guang’s look affronted, and confused. Why would he be confused? “When did I ever say that?” He argues. And his confusion seems so genuine, Cheng Xiaoshi really thought maybe he dreamt up those memories.
Except Qiao Ling is there to back him up. “You did say that,” she defends, “Maybe not as often as Cheng Xiaoshi makes it seem. But I clearly remember you said that.”
“No I–”
“If you knew the key was brittle, then—”
“I should–”
All three of them are speaking at once. Lu Guang has grabbed the pieces from Dong Yi, trying to understand his own past comments. Qiao Ling is questioning what to do about it, the studio being her family’s property and all… Cheng Xiaoshi just wants to understand why Lu Guang would break the key he gave him.
This is wrong. It’s weird for them to talk over each other like this.
Thankfully Xu Shanshan was there to put a stop to it. Holding up her palms and shushing them until they all sat quietly like good grade schoolers. Demanding answers like an officer.
First, she addresses Lu Guang, “So this is the studio key? Not your house key, right? Are you able to go home safely tomorrow?’
“I’m returning to my parents. Yes, I should be fine.”
“Good.” Second, she addresses Qiao Ling, “Lu Guang is not your tenant, right?”
“No, he just owns a duplicate.”
“Then it’s not urgent, just tell your dad tomorrow.” And third, she addresses Cheng Xiaoshi, “None of us knew how to open the bottles.”
Less of a question, more of a statement, but Cheng Xiaoshi still nodded.
“Then none of us could’ve known this would happen. It’s not Lu Guang’s fault we asked him to open the bottles.”
Guess so. Asking why Lu Guang would use that key won’t change the fact that it’s still broken. Maybe in the festivities of the moment, it really did just slip Lu Guang’s mind. And it’s not that much of a problem anyway.
Which is why he turns to Lu Guang, “We can stop by the market and make a new one tomorrow,” he offers. An apology for his reaction.
Lu Guang raised an eyebrow, “Will you let me pay for them this time?” And that is an apology accepted. Real quick, it makes Cheng Xiaoshi smile.
He can’t help the little tease in his reply, “Hmm, we’ll see.”
A quick resolution to a non-problem. And while all that happens, Dong Yi uses his own key to open the last bottle, reminding them of the promised toast. It returns the picnic atmosphere as it should be.
The very next day, Qiao Ling’s dad takes one look at the broken pieces and solders them back together again. Issue of the brittle key resolved!
As long as Lu Guang remembers not to use it to pry open a bottle again that is. He can use Cheng Xiaoshi’s sturdier key next time.
—
Between the residents of this photo studio, Cheng Xiaoshi has always been the one more inclined to cook. It’s not that Lu Guang can’t cook, he can, even if he fully admits he’s not as well-versed in it as Cheng Xiaoshi, but it’s also the fact that Cheng Xiaoshi has more experience and truly does enjoy the act of cooking.
Cheng Xiaoshi has been cooking out of necessity since he was a child after all. Meanwhile Lu Guang previously lives with his grandma who would swat him away as soon as he heads towards the kitchen, scolding him gently and telling him to let her do the work.
Still, cooking experiences don't account for personal preferences.
The first few months after Lu Guang moved in, every home cooked meal was a trial by fire, some of them quite literally. Lu Guang, coming from a city far more southern than Guidu was raised with slightly different dishes and consequently have slightly different preferences. He’s also, as much as he doesn’t like to admit it, picky with his food. His grandmother has spoiled his taste. Some dishes are too salty or not sweet enough, it’s missing an ingredient that’s harder to come across or it’s mixed differently.
Sometimes, it’s too spicy too. He knows Cheng Xiaoshi blamed it on Lu Guang’s low spice tolerance but personally Lu Guang blamed it on Cheng Xiaoshi and Qiao Ling’s masochistic taste.
Lu Guang’s aversion to spice aside, the point is that, after Lu Guang moves in with Cheng Xiaoshi and receives his home cooked meals, the both of them have a lot to compromise and modify to accommodate both of their tastes.
Some are logical, like Cheng Xiaoshi separating a portion for Lu Guang before he starts adding his unholy amount of chili and pepper. Some are easy, like Lu Guang finding Cheng Xiaoshi’s version better than his own, or Cheng Xiaoshi admitting that Lu Guang’s recipes do improve the dish. And some are harder, taking countless iterations of the same dish before they can agree that yes, this version is the best it’s going to get.
And today, a cold October day where Lu Guang has unfortunately felt a bit under the weather, was a day that Lu Guang remembers, from his… previous life, to be the day this household finally perfected their comfort noodle soup recipe.
Sick as he was, curled under a mountain of blankets on the couch, Lu Guang can’t help but anticipate the coming perfect broth to warm him up. Sitting up as eagerly as he could when Cheng Xiaoshi finally comes to serve him a portion. Letting the bowl rest against his abdomen as heat radiates into his empty stomach, a spoonful of soup in hand as he blows to cool it into acceptable temperature.
Finally, Lu Guang can taste the rich, salty, soft and slightly thick broth.
Wait,
With a surprised cough, Lu Guang can’t help but pause.
… This is not right. This isn’t their soup. This is different, this is…
“Lu Guang?” Cheng Xiaosi inquires, staring at him from the armchair with his own bowl of soup. “Is something wrong?”
Yes, something is wrong, but how can he say it…
Yet without a reply, Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes widen, fingers snapping as he somehow concludes what the problem is on his own. “It’s the pepper isn’t it?” he guesses, “I put in too much pepper last time– by accident, mind you. Even though pepper isn’t even that spicy– but you just keep eating and you seemed to enjoy it so I kept it as is.”
Wait, something in that sentence makes warmth spread through Lu Guang’s face. “Since when do you pay close attention when I’m eating?” Surely Cheng Xiaoshi is not that attentive, right? From what Lu Guang remembers, Cheng Xiaoshi always seemed to be more enthralled by his own food, he has no attention to spare for Lu Guang. That’s why Lu Guang had to tell Cheng Xiaoshi himself what he thought was off from the food, they’ve had multiple playful debates about it. So why would that change?
Oh. A realization came to Lu Guang.
It’s not that Cheng Xiaoshi has changed,
Lu Guang has.
From where he sat, Cheng Xiaoshi simply shrugs. “You stopped giving me comments after meals,” he explains, “I have to make do with what I got.”
That’s right, after he… left Cheng Xiaoshi behind, Lu Guang too was enthralled with his food. He misses Cheng Xiaoshi, and to finally be able to eat Cheng Xiaoshi’s lovingly crafted meals again was a blessing he’s very thankful to have received. For quite some time after he dived back, taste no longer matters to Lu Guang, all that matters were the hands that made them and the company on this table.
He has changed the timeline, just by doing something as minor as not mentioning how food tasted, this Cheng Xiaoshi is already different from the Cheng Xiaoshi he first met.
… But is that really so bad?
—
The restaurant at the corner four blocks away is a place that’s held dearly by Cheng Xiaoshi.
Back when they were children, Qiao Ling and him used to go there after every report card, celebrating their successes and the year of studying. A tradition they keep for years, eventually joined by Lu Guang during highschool. And now that they are no longer participants in the school system, it is their go to place for celebrating long, tiring cases. Just like the one they’ve just finished.
The thought of hotpot; his favorite stew, fresh green vegetables and a pile of thinly sliced meat, causes Cheng Xiaoshi to excitedly rush out the studio door, leaving the responsibility of locking the door for Lu Guang. Though his excitement doesn’t actually matter, excited or not, Lu Guang has been the person locking the door behind them ever since he moved in. Cheng Xiaoshi doesn’t even bother carrying his keys, definitely a bad habit but he trusts Lu Guang to keep their home safe and secure.
Thus Cheng Xiaoshi skips on the pavement ahead, hearing the turning of keys and the huffs behind him as Lu Guang jogs to catch up. Scolding him to be patient and wait for him, even while Cheng Xiaoshi throws his hand over his shoulder and drags Lu Guang down the street.
To be honest, other than finishing that case nothing exciting really happened. Today is just like any other day. They arrive at the hotpot place, order the best stew and the best meat, in their budget of course, dump them all, some vegetables and crab sticks, let it simmer, and eat. Bowl after bowl, the nice owner stopping by their table for a brief chat on what brings them here today. Congratulating them with a free drink before sauntering off to another table.
The main difference is probably Qiao Ling’s lack of presence. Not that it can be helped, not with her out of town to meet her grandparents. She did ask for pictures, Cheng Xiaoshi teases her on living vicariously through them, and Lu Guang ever the good friend takes a quick snap of their pot before he starts tearing up and sniffing.
It worries Cheng Xiaoshi for a moment, his friend’s expression seems odd. But after Lu Guang gulps his drink with a passion, he can only snort in amusement. It seems Lu Guang’s low spice tolerance has finally caught up to him. Not that it stops him from eating another bowl or two.
It does delay them from going home though. With Lu Guang, face down on the table and red all over, his arms curled loosely around his stomach. Too full or too spicy? With Lu Guang it can honestly go either way, low capacity and low tolerance. In the end Cheng Xiaoshi has to physically hold Lu Guang up on their trek back home, only letting go to let Lu Guang dig into his pocket and unlock the door.
Home sweet home, the best thing to do after a filling hotpot meal is to lounge on the couch, maybe against Lu Guang’s shoulder as he does his daily reading, and doze off. It makes Cheng Xiaoshi sleepy and giddy just thinking about it, pushing open the door and entering the studio.
He’s halfway to the sunroom, when he starts to feel odd. Unconsciously, his ears have been straining, waiting for the telltale sound of Lu Guang stepping in and locking the door behind him. Yet the sound never comes. When he turns around, Lu Guang is still standing outside, focused, staring at his hands with something Cheng Xiaoshi can’t describe.
It’s sad, confused, lost, and unfamiliar. It’s twisted and it’s out of place.
“Lu Guang,” he hesitantly calls out. This isn’t something normal, why is Lu Guang still standing there? “Was something wrong with the hotpot? Are you still hungry?”
Lu Guang snaps into attention at that, head whipping up to tell him, “No! The hotpot was fine, it’s just…” and this is where Lu Guang hesitates, looking back down to the key in his hand.
“The key… it’s rusty.”
Frowning, Cheng Xiaoshi walks back outside to take a look at the key still within the keyhole. He pulls it out with his own hand, Lu Guang watching his actions intensely. He inspects the key carefully, lifting it up to eye level and tilting it this way and that. The more he looks at it, the more confused he becomes. Yes, the key is rusty,
“But it has always been rusty.” From the very moment they received the key from that locksmith.
Cheng Xiaoshi might not use the key but even he realizes how rusty it was. He never realizes how disgusting it is though. Even touching the key for a short while makes his hands feel dirty. Visibly he can see nothing on his fingertips, but even without sight, he can feel the dusty particles sticking onto his fingers. A layer of grime that leaves his fingers with a metal scent. It must have bothered Lu Guang a lot, to feel his hand covered in rust.
His hands must have felt so dirty.
While in his thoughts Cheng Xiaoshi has untied Lu Guang’s cat charm from the key before shoving it deep into his own pocket. And then he reaches for Lu Guang’s hands.
Carefully, Cheng Xiaoshi manipulated Lu Guang’s fingers closer to his abdomen, while his other hand lifted the bottom of his tee. With that, he guides Lu Guang to clean his hand on his shirt. Delicately wiping each finger down with slight pressure to remove every metallic trace the key might have left. It’s staining his shirt, he hopes he can scrub it clean later.
“Take my keys,” Cheng Xiaoshi says. There’s no reason for Lu Guang to feel dirty when Cheng Xiaoshi rarely uses his own smooth silver key. “Upstairs, left drawer, in–”
“–In the old brown pencil case with some random keychains,” Lu Guang finishes, smiling up at him, “I know.”
“You knew!” Cheng Xiaoshi can’t help but laugh at that. Of course Lu Guang knows, he’s always cleaning the place. But most importantly, he’s glad Lu Guang seems to be feeling better now.
Lu Guang’s hand still in his, he shoved the charm onto Lu Guang’s palm. Clasping their hands tightly as he finally ushers Lu Guang inside.
“Use that key from now on, okay? No more rusty key.”
“Alright.”
—
Lu Guang wakes up to screaming.
Except, there were no screams. The room is quiet, just the drone of the fan and the electrical buzzing from the street lamps outside. What he heard were just remnants of a dream. His own twisted subconscious where vaguely familiar hands tried to rip him into pieces and layered voices demanded he return to them , back to where he came from.
In a vacuum, the grips and demands mean nothing. But Lu Guang is self aware enough to fill in the gaps. The slightly tan skin, the familiar dialect unlike his own, the faded jacket, the wavy black hair. The ghost of Cheng Xiaoshi begging him to return. He can’t quite decide if they were asking him to return to them, or if they’re asking him to return the Lu Guang he hijacked and took away from them when he dived into his own past body.
The different Lu Guangs of various timelines he has traversed. One he never got to observe, the one that various Cheng Xiaoshi never got to know because he selfishly wants to keep Cheng Xiaoshi to himself. The various Lu Guang of various timelines who are the same person as he is, yet slightly different in a way that means nothing.
Just like how every timeline he traverses has slightly different Cheng Xiaoshis.
For example, this Cheng Xiaoshi is standing on his tiptoes on his bed, holding on the railing so he can peek over the top bunk. Face scrunched up in worry after waking up to what Lu Guang assumed is his nightmare-induced scrambling. One hand reaching past the bars for Lu Guang’s clammy ones once he notices Lu Guang staring at him. Voice soft as if afraid of waking up creatures of the night as he whispers the expected question,
“Are you okay?”
It makes Lu Guang laugh, or he would have if he’s not still out of breath from his sudden awakening. Instead, he gives in to a breathless chuckle, bringing up his knees to bury his nostalgic tears. His Cheng Xiaoshi, the one from the very beginning without the death and trauma, would have kicked his mattress into oblivion. An effective, if not ungraceful way to wake him up, away from his nightmares.
In contrast, this Cheng Xiaoshi is watching over him, mistaking his laughter as choked sobs and scrambling up the ladder to approach him, drowning his choked breaths beneath the bed frame’s squeaks. To comfort him in closer proximity. Hand hovering in hesitance before steeling himself and pulling Lu Guang close. Enveloping him in warmth that should’ve burn in this summer night, yet against all odds is just right.
Slowly but surely, Cheng Xiaoshi pushed him to lay down again. Placing himself behind Lu Guang, spooning him as he soothingly rubs his back in a way that’s so familiar, yet Lu Guang’s foggy mind can’t place. His chest against Lu Guang’s back slightly vibrates as he hums the lullaby Lu Guang’s mother used to sing.
It was pretty easy falling asleep to that.
When Lu Guang finally awakens, Cheng Xiaoshi isn’t around. Not in the space behind him, not in the bunk below him, not within their bedroom, and by the time Lu Guang steps downstairs, not in the studio or sunroom either. Lu Guang would say it’s eerie, except that he knows from experience that this is normal.
As expected, 5 minutes after he brews his morning tea, the front door opens and in walks Cheng Xiaoshi, a plastic bag swinging from his arm. Nightmare was a rare occurrence the first time around, but they’re common friends after that. And while no other Cheng Xiaoshi climbed on his bed and soothe him like last night, all of them did the same thing.
“Lu Guang! You’re awake,” Cheng Xiaoshi stands before the coffee table, across where Lu Guang sits on the sofa. Eyes bright and voice cheerful as he digs around in his plastic bag for something Lu Guang knows by heart. Quickly, he tossed the item Lu Guang’s way, “I bought you pocky, I noticed you were running out.”
Then, just like he did in any other timeline, Lu Guang smiles, “Thank you, Cheng Xiaoshi.” And neither of them acknowledge the happenstance of last night. Cheng Xiaoshi would sit next to him and pour his own cup of tea while Lu Guang opens the packet in his hands, offering a piece to the other before digging in.
Cheng Xiaoshi would sit back, throw his arm over the backrest and across Lu Guang’s shoulders, or maybe he’s feeling a little bit more clingy and straight out leans against Lu Guang’s side. Talking about whatever he sees on his morning walk to the store.
“Oh, by the way I borrowed your key,” Cheng Xiaoshi claims, one hand digging into his pockets, “Too lazy to grab mine.” He placed the key on the coffee table, in Lu Guang’s direct view.
This key is a little more dull, his first one was glossier, another was very brittle, and the last one was rusty. But the grooves stay the same, the metallic hills and valleys stay the same. It still opens the studio’s front door. Just like Cheng Xiaoshi. He might be different from the first one I've met without fear, the one who is a lot more attentive and compliant to his words, or the one who climbed into my bed last night... but they're undoubtedly Cheng Xiaoshi nonetheless.
The same Cheng Xiaoshi with the key to unlocking my heart.