Chapter Text
The mock exam period passed quickly, and before they all knew it, the final week was over, and the last exam finished.
Well, everyone else got off yesterday or this morning. The very final exam was maths, and only two unlucky people’s stress stretched to the very end of the week.
Mu Qing and He Xuan.
Mu Qing isn’t actually in the same maths class as He Xuan, so he doesn’t know quite how smart she is. However, he does know that she got into Oxford — the entire college knows, because not many people did — so she can’t be stupid. Even if she’s voluntarily in a relationship with Shi Qingxuan, whom Mu Qing still hasn’t completely forgiven. Then again, he’s in a relationship with Feng Xin of all people, so he can’t really judge.
At the end of the college day, everyone flocks out of the exam hall. While the others run off to their friends, Mu Qing leaves last, moving slower than most people because of the back pain tormenting him at every possible opportunity. And right there, outside, He Xuan is waiting for him.
“Hey,” Mu Qing mutters, surprised she’s even standing there.
Across the courtyard, Feng Xin is also waiting for him; Feng Xin was the only one of their friends who stuck around until the end of the day, clearly. Feng Xin is also a clingy asshole who lives with Mu Qing and can’t go home without him, since they’ve lived together for nearly a month now and Feng Xin still doesn’t have his own key.
“Afternoon,” He Xuan nods, acknowledging him briefly.
At the same time, Feng Xin looks up from his phone and notices they’re out, running over to Mu Qing.
“Qing’er!” he calls, pulling Mu Qing into a hug and pressing kisses all across his forehead. “How’d it go?”
“Get off!” Mu Qing hisses, face flushed red at the sudden affection in public. “It was… fine. Hard. My brain just… fuzzed at one point. I don’t know.”
His sentence started off confident, then trailed into something more anxious. And stupidly, the only thing which settles his racing heart is Feng Xin taking his hand.
“You’ll be fine,” He Xuan says, “Nerd.”
Mu Qing frowns, leaning into Feng Xin’s hold as he wraps an arm around his shoulder. That, he’ll accept. He looks across at He Xuan and replies sharply, “Says the person going to Oxford.”
He Xuan just shrugs, her gaze flitting between the other two.
“Where’s Shi Qingxuan?” Mu Qing asks, “She forgot you had an exam?”
“She knew,” He Xuan answers, “She has therapy.”
At that, Mu Qing purses his lips, honestly rendered speechless. When he spoke to He Xuan at the hospital and she said she’d told Shi Qingxuan to go to therapy because she was an alcoholic, Mu Qing didn’t actually believe she would. Shi Qingxuan and therapy is a combination he couldn’t even imagine. As the silence passes, He Xuan doesn’t quite leave yet, but she does reach into her pocket and pull out a cigarette.
Mu Qing tenses immediately, and Feng Xin’s grip on his shoulder tightens, as he glares at He Xuan.
“Relax. I’m not lighting it in front of you,” He Xuan snorts softly, turning to leave. “I’ll see you later, probably.”
“What?” Mu Qing blinks. “Later?”
“Yeah?” He Xuan says, looking at him like he’s an idiot.
“There’s a small party at Shi Qingxuan’s,” Feng Xin tells him quietly. “Remember?”
The realisation is like a slap to the face. Mu Qing has been so pre-occupied with revision and not having a mental breakdown recently, he completely forgot two things: firstly, the fact it was happening, and secondly, the fact he agreed. He doesn’t even want to go, but he’s sure when he agreed, he was just going along with it so that they didn’t call him a loser. Because unfortunately, after many years of bullying, Mu Qing’s nervous system still can’t tell the difference between politely declining plans and getting beaten up in a corridor. The pregnancy hormones making him overly emotional all the time definitely don’t help.
Before he can say any more and plan an excuse, Feng Xin’s phone starts ringing, with that obnoxious, loud ringtone.
“Hang on,” he mutters, pulling out his phone. “It’s Xie Lian. Gimme a sec.”
Mu Qing looks at him for a second, pleading him not to leave him alone in an awkward one-to-one conversation, but Feng Xin doesn’t look back as he answers the call and turns around the corner. That leaves just Mu Qing and He Xuan, alone together for the first time since they were both coincidently in hospital at the same time.
“Don’t worry,” He Xuan says once Feng Xin has disappeared. “There’s no alcohol.”
“What?” Mu Qing responds defensively. “I don’t care. I’m not an alcoholic.”
“Maybe not, but being in a room full of drunk people while pregnant can’t be a good feeling,” He Xuan replies, “I’ve told Qingxuan there’s no alcohol allowed. I’ll search the house before anyone arrives.”
“… Yeah,” Mu Qing deadpans, “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me,” He Xuan says, “I don’t want a hungover Qingxuan if I can avoid it.”
Slowly, Mu Qing nods, staring down at the ground as silence lingers again. Every so often, he steals a side glance at the other; it’s also the first time he’s properly looked at her since hospital, and she’s definitely put on a small amount of weight already since starting therapy.
“… You…” Mu Qing starts hesitantly. He has no idea why he’s even saying this; maybe because He Xuan expressed concern in the best way she can just now. “Y-You look… better, by the way.”
“Yeah, well,” He Xuan shrugs, the cigarette still unlit between her fingers. “That’s what happens when you go to therapy and have to start eating properly again.”
“… right…” he mutters.
“You look less haunted,” He Xuan adds, a little blunter, as her eyes drop for a moment.
This time, Mu Qing gives a soft, self-deprecating chuckle. “I don’t feel it,” he says under his breath, following her gaze and looking down at his stomach, pressing a hand to it. “Does it show?”
“No,” He Xuan replies, “but the fact you’re wearing baggy stuff now is suspicious.”
Mu Qing frowns, as he pushes harder against his stomach, where there’s most certainly a bump there, no matter how hard he chooses to believe the space under his fingers is just bloating, or his belt which he doesn’t even need anymore. He looks around, waiting for Feng Xin to return and save him from this awkward interaction. On top of that, part of him can’t erase the memory of last time he got an unexpected call from Xie Lian.
“I’m off,” He Xuan says, as she pulls a lighter from her pocket. After taking a few steps, she scoffs under her breath and smiles a tiny bit; one of the rare times she’s actually smiled, even if it is closer to a smirk. “I miss smoking with you and Hua Cheng sometimes.”
“Well, we’ll never smoke with Hua Cheng again,” Mu Qing mumbles, “now that his precious gege doesn’t like it.”
“Yeah, I know,” He Xuan replies, “and you?”
“I’m pregnant,” Mu Qing deadpans.
“I mean after that,” He Xuan says. “Once you’ve had the baby. You’ll smoke again?”
“No,” Mu Qing replies right away, then watches the way she raises an eyebrow at him. His fingers unconsciously wrap around the blister pack of nicotine gum in his pocket, and he changes his answer, saying sheepishly, “… I probably will.”
“There it is,” He Xuan snorts, waving him off. “See you later.”
At the same time, Feng Xin turns the corner again. “Sorry.”
“What did he want?” Mu Qing asks, pulling the gum out of his pocket as he watches He Xuan light a cigarette in the distance, and shoving a piece in his mouth.
“Just wanted to ask about what fucking snacks to buy tonight,” Feng Xin says, “I think he’s excited this is, like, the first gathering where we’re not all completely beaten down.”
“I’ll try not to pick a fight with Hua Cheng this time,” Mu Qing grumbles, “but no promises.”
“No fighting,” Feng Xin tells him, “And now, I didn’t ask Xie Lian buy your weird food cravings.”
“Rude.”
“A crime to humanity, Qing’er. Who the fuck eats pickles and peanut butter?”
“Pregnant people,” Mu Qing huffs.
“Weirdos,” Feng Xin chuckles, before taking Mu Qing’s hand. “You gotta pee before we go home?”
“No,” Mu Qing hisses, going to elbow him in the ribs.
Feng Xin, no stranger to that loving attack, dodges. “What?! It’s been like two hours! No way can you hold piss for more than that right now.”
“Shut up,” Mu Qing says, “I went during the exam, okay? The invigilator took me and no one looked up. So I’m fine.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop teasing,” Feng Xin says, as they start walking to his car. He can clearly see Mu Qing looks exhausted from the exam, and as they reach the car, he asks, “Do you really not want to go tonight?”
“I don’t want to go, no,” Mu Qing answers honestly, “But I’ll go anyway. If everyone else can get their shit together for one night, then… why can’t I.”
“That’s the spirit,” Feng Xin snorts, ruffling his hair, kissing his cheek, then helping him into the car like a princess (and getting slapped in response).
Truthfully, Mu Qing really does not want to go, but he can get a grip and pretend everything is great for a single night if it means not looking like a pussy.
When Shi Qingxuan first suggested a small party to celebrate mock exams ending, He Xuan straight-up said no. Frankly, she didn’t trust Shi Qingxuan not to find a way to get drunk despite the rules she put in place. But Shi Qingxuan took a lot of time convincing her, and eventually, He Xuan agreed. Shi Wudu was away for the weekend, and she was able to search the entire house including his room.
That she does.
“I’m telling you, Xuan’er, I didn’t hide alcohol anywhere,” Shi Qingxuan whines for the hundredth time, as He Xuan sifts through her underwear drawer. Nothing embarrassing there; everything in the drawer, He Xuan has probably ripped off her at one point or another. Lesbians, and all that.
“I’m checking,” He Xuan says, “like I said I would.”
“I know, but do you really not trust me?” Shi Qingxuan says, though she doesn’t sound too distraught.
“No,” He Xuan replies, “I don’t.”
“But I haven’t drunk anything since Monday,” Shi Qingxuan insists, as she flops onto the edge of her bed, defeated, and takes a long hit from her vape. “And that was just one drink because I was struggling to revise— I swear I didn’t have anything else.”
For a moment, He Xuan narrows her eyes at her, but Shi Qingxuan isn’t a great liar. Even when she kept insisting she wasn’t an alcoholic, she wasn’t lying about it, rather that she was in denial. Once He Xuan had staged an intervention and made her realise she had a problem, Shi Qingxuan was fairly transparent about it all. Maybe too honest at times, and that caused more concern.
After further convincing, Shi Qingxuan also got a therapist and started actually going. She’s only had three sessions so far, and she hasn’t told He Xuan a huge amount about what they talked about; until the previous once, she looked sad after leaving the session. Shi Qingxuan isn’t one to talk about her underlying issues, but He Xuan knows her parents living away since she was young, working rather than giving her attention, and being under the care of her over-protective older brother, has left some psychological damage.
Still, although she hasn’t fully stopped drinking, she’s managing several sober days every week, and that in itself counts for a lot.
“Alright,” He Xuan says after a long pause. “I believe you.”
“Yay,” Shi Qingxuan smiles, though it seems forced.
He Xuan scans her up and down. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m…” Shi Qingxuan starts, picking her vape up from the bed and taking a long puff. “I guess it just sucks we’re having a party tonight and I can’t drink.”
“No one is drinking,” He Xuan reminds her, “Mu Qing is pregnant, Xie Lian can’t drink, and Hua Cheng and Feng Xin aren’t big drinkers either. You won’t have temptation.”
“I guess,” she pouts. But before the conversation gets any deeper, the doorbell rings.
“Let’s go,” He Xuan says, leading her down the stairs. At the door, she gestures to the vape in Shi Qingxuan’s hand and nudges it to her pocket. “You can’t vape inside.”
“But it’s my house,” Shi Qingxuan replies, “I always do.”
“Yeah, unless there’s a pregnant guy in here who’s still reeling at the fact he can’t smoke,” He Xuan deadpans, “so don’t tempt him. We go outside to smoke.”
“Fine…” Shi Qingxuan sighs, pouting again. Only for a couple of seconds, then her usual sunshine smile returns as she opens the door.
To no surprise, Xie Lian and Hua Cheng are first to arrive, hand in hand, with Xie Lian holding a large bag of snacks. He Xuan’s eyes narrow slightly at the stash of junk food, glancing briefly at Hua Cheng, who catches her gaze and just shrugs.
“Hey guys!” Shi Qingxuan beams, throwing her arms around both of them. “So glad you made it! Congrats for surviving exams!”
“Ahaha, they’re only the mock exams,” Xie Lian says, patting her back before respectfully prying her arms off him. “Should we come in?”
“Please, please,” Shi Qingxuan nods eagerly, ushering them both inside. “Here, I’ll show you where to put everything. I’ve got lots of drinks lined up— Soft drinks, all non-alcoholic, I promise! I got mocktails, soda, non-alcoholic prosecco, non-alcoholic—”
Xie Lian doesn’t get a word in as he’s dragged into the kitchen, leaving Hua Cheng and He Xuan alone in the hallway. He Xuan turns to Hua Cheng, waiting for him to stop staring longingly at Xie Lian, then says, “Really?”
Hua Cheng’s gaze snaps back to her. “What?”
“Qingxuan isn’t allowed to bring in any alcohol for this, but Xie Lian is allowed to bring a supply of snacks I could binge in one sitting?”
For a moment, something vaguely resembling guilt flashes across Hua Cheng’s face, before he cracks a smirk. “You wouldn’t do that in front of all our friends.”
“You’d hope not,” He Xuan snorts, “Don’t worry. I won’t eat it all then make myself puke. That’ll be a real downer on the mood.”
“Your therapist wouldn’t approve either,” Hua Cheng says, then looks a little more serious. “How is it going?”
He Xuan cocks an eyebrow. “I don’t like the genuine concern from you.”
“Answer the question.”
“It’s fine,” He Xuan replies through gritted teeth. “Therapy is always shit. I’m behaving to get discharged from the eating disorder service.”
“That’s the spirit,” Hua Cheng smirks, slapping her shoulder. “And Qingxuan?”
“Stopped drinking, mostly,” He Xuan shrugs. Before the uncomfortably personal conversation continues, the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it.”
“It’ll be those two. Be my guest,” Hua Cheng scoffs, waving his hand off as he walks away. “I don’t like playing nice.”
“Bitch,” He Xuan mutters under her breath as she walks back to the front door and opens it. Mu Qing and Feng Xin stand there, holding hands, though Mu Qing is visibly stood two steps behind Feng Xin. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Feng Xin says, tugging on Mu Qing’s hand. “Qing’er?”
“… Hey,” Mu Qing grumbles, drawing in a deep breath then eventually working up the courage to actually enter the house. He looks visibly uncomfortable, and it’s obvious he doesn’t want to be here, but he came anyway.
“Everyone’s in the kitchen,” He Xuan says, leaving them at the door to sort out their own shit. She’s not interested in Mu Qing’s mental instability and Feng Xin’s doting. They follow her a few steps behind nonetheless, finding everyone else sat at the table. Shi Qingxuan has retrieved six prosecco glasses and is currently pouring out the bottle of non-alcoholic prosecco.
“Hey guys!” she beams the second she sees them. “Lowkey I kind of thought you weren’t coming!”
“You had enough faith to get glasses out for us,” Mu Qing points out. Once she finishes pouring the bottle, before she tosses it in the bin, Mu Qing snatches it off her, closely inspecting the label. Feng Xin does the same, scanning over every tiny bit of writing.
“It’s strictly 0%,” He Xuan says, “I made sure.”
“Hm,” Mu Qing’s frown deepens, but after reading every inch of the label, he slams it down and nods approvingly, sitting down in one of the empty seats and picking up the glass. He takes a small sip then screws his face up. “That’s vile.”
“Yeah, I know,” Shi Qingxuan sighs in defeat, “But still, we have to raise some kind of toast, right?”
“Sure,” Mu Qing deadpans, rolling his eyes as Feng Xin sits next to him. When he wraps an arm around his shoulder, he relaxes very slightly, and chokes down another mouthful of the disgusting fake prosecco.
“How was your exam this afternoon?” Xie Lian asks.
“Don’t ask,” Mu Qing huffs, resting his elbows on the table and dumping his head in his hands.
“I’m sure he did fine,” Feng Xin says.
“Exactly,” Xie Lian agrees, nodding confidently. “And if you do fine in these, I’m sure you’ll do great in the real exams too.”
At that, Mu Qing lifts his head and narrows his eyes at him. “I’m going to be 36-weeks pregnant when A levels start. I’m screwed.”
“Ah, well, ahaha, yeah…”
“Are you gonna have your own room?” Shi Qingxuan asks.
“Probably,” Mu Qing mumbles, “I don’t know my exact due date. I don’t want to go into labour in the middle of the exam hall.”
“That’d be a real story to tell!”
“Yeah, for everyone else!”
“Bummer,” Shi Qingxuan snickers, “Anyway, we should all play a game.”
He Xuan raises an eyebrow at her. “Do you know any games which don’t involve alcohol?”
“Sure I do! Like… like…” she starts, then trails off. “No…”
“There has to be something,” Xie Lian replies, “I’m sure we can find something.”
“You have Cards Against Humanity upstairs,” He Xuan points out.
“Right, I do!” Shi Qingxuan grins, “I’ll grab it.”
“This game is dumb,” Mu Qing mutters.
“It could be worse,” Hua Cheng comments, unable to stop a smug grin tugging at his lips. “At least it’s not Ring of Fire.”
“Don’t,” Mu Qing says threateningly.
“San Lang…” Xie Lian sighs, rubbing his forehead. “Let’s not mention that…”
“Dysfunctional bitches,” He Xuan says under her breath. Now definitely isn’t the time to reference that night at the bar.
A moment later, Shi Qingxuan comes downstairs with the box of Cards Against Humanity, placing it in the middle of the table. Before she opens it, however, she picks up her glass and raises it. “A toast to our exams! Well, the mocks, and then the real ones— Oh god, that’s terrifying.”
“Relax. It’s months away,” He Xuan huffs.
“I’m sure that time will fly by,” Xie Lian says.
It probably will. Mocks are one thing, but with all the shit everyone has been through in the last few months and how fragile the new-found stability is, the real exams in May will approach with a feeling of dread. They can only hope nothing else will collapse before then.
(… And hope Mu Qing doesn’t actually start giving birth mid-exam.)