It had been a few days
Since they began their stay in the Fang manor
The days were uneventful, peaceful or rather boring
contrary to his expectations
When he first saw Chen Fang and met his eyes, Xue Hua was braced for turmoil, mostly emotional
But as if to mock his expectations and his first impression of him
Chen Fang wasn't as bad,
Rather, he was a fairly good person
Although he still found him uncomfortable to be around
Nevertheless, it was evident that he was a decent man as the servants all genuinely cared for their master and from what he saw, Chen Fang was really friendly with any and every type of person,
It was safe to say that his servants felt really comfortable around him which was surprising
but...it was to be expected since he was friends with Yue Ran after all, he had to have an incredible character since the immortal himself was very kind.
He knew there was no way Yue Ran could ever misjudge someone, he nodded to himself lost in his own thoughts and conclusions.
As he walked around the courtyard he began mentally looking for different kinds of flowers this manor had to offer out of curiosity, while Yue Ran immersed himself in the library again
Xue Hua couldn't say he hated the master since he couldn't really come up with anything that made Chen Fang a bad character except his first impression
Still, if someone was to ask how he would describe the master of the manor and how he felt about him, he'd only spit one word
"Annoying"
In these few days, he had mostly followed around Yue Ran
Wherever he went, but since he barely left the house most of their times were spent in the study with various books,
He seemed to love reading, which undoubtedly left Xue Hua curious too,
He made many notes to himself and these days because of Yue Ran he had also ended up picking up some books here and there to study
Although, since he wasn't a fast reader he only finished reading one book unlike Yue Ran,
It was a book on flowers, specifically flower language.
it was quite fascinating how people interpreted flowers differently just because of how they looked or what their colours were
It was said to be a language used when words could not convey a sentiment or emotion
However, he didn't really understand it, most of the flowers illustrated and described were ones he had never seen before, the words used where quite difficult too but he didn't want to just give up on it after having picked it himself
His pride and dignity was on line, and especially because Yue Ran was present, he pretended to follow them flawlessly and managed to finish it
After finally finishing the book he came to learn that he really wasn't a reader and was better suited for watching others read instead
While resting beneath a tree shade he sat down leaning on the tree for extra comfort, it was not a sunny afternoon and there weren't many clouds in the sky that day.
It was the perfect day for a quick snooze
His eyes were unfocussed as he slowly got drowsy
Some of the female servants who were working saw him and softly chuckled to themselves,
"He must be waiting for that young master again"
One of them said with a soft gaze,
"How devoted of him"
The other chuckled,
"Whenever I see him following that young master I can't help but get a bit envious" she sighed, while pressing her face,
"I wish I had a younger sibling just like him"
Both of them nodded before letting out a sigh as they left to do other chores.
They both passed Yue Ran as he finally came out after having finished reading for the day.
That's also when he saw that sight,
Xue Hua leaning on the tree as he dozed on and off
Xue Hua who was just moments away from slipping into sleep
Caught a glimpse of a figure standing outside the library door,
He immediately snapped back when he realised who that was
Awkwardly he stood up, and half ran towards Yue Ran
Seeing Xue Hua approach him from a distance, Yue Ran's brows furrowed briefly, brief enough to not be noticed even by Xue Hua
"Have you been waiting for me?"
Xue Hua paused then shyly nodded while rubbing the sleep off his face,
Yue Ran remembered explicitly telling him to go do something since he noticed that Xue Hua wasn't into books despite always following him in, he even went as far as to pretend to read a book while waiting for him,
Yue Ran wasn't sure if he actually finished it or not but the time he spent reading was very short lived and he never picked up another after that.
But seeing the awkward and clueless look on his face
Yue Ran could only sighed inwardly, he often saw children following his master but him being the recipient of this very treatment was jarring, he didn't understand why his master allowed it, what exactly was it that made him fond of children?
They were nothing but extra baggage in many ways,
Although he wouldn't go as far as saying Xue Hua was annoying, still it was just really confusing, why did he even like following him around? Wasn't he bored? At first he thought Xue Hua would naturally tire himself but seeing that to not be that case after a while it only left him puzzled.
Recalling his master, he said to himself,
Xue Hua's mystery didn't fall short of his master.
Did it imprint on me when I gave him his name?
Yue Ran couldn't help but wonder but at the very time he found himself baffled at his own imagination,
It appears that Chen Fang's nonsensical imaginations had finally caught into him as well it was enough to give him a headache
Though it was not a disease it might very well be for Yue Ran
Looking into those brightly lit eyes full of emotions and full of life it made him even more lost for words and reasons
Perhaps he had underestimated Xue Hua's and his master's resemblance
He didn't know that they could both trouble him this deep,
Still
Why did master love children?
It was beyond him.
"Come"
He looked away as he spoke to the child,
It was time to have lunch,
Yue Ran and Xue Hua shared all their meals together,
Sometimes Chen Fang would also join them but he was often busy with his own endeavours.
After sharing a cool lunch,
Yue Ran once again had left Xue Hua by himself
alone up to his own devices
While Yue Ran didn't prevent Xue Hua from wandering around,
Xue Hua was always at a lost to what he should or could do,
He didn't actively try to socialize with others while the maidservants often tried to strike conversations with him whenever they found him alone he also froze up awkwardly,
And after two or three times he began avoiding them as much as he could, so right now he was alone in his room while the immortal had gone looking for Chen Fang
It couldn't be helped that Chen Fang and Yue Ran were way closer than Xue Hua was to him but it was still annoying,
Xue Hua sulked, rolling on his bed and when as an imagined of Chen Fang's smug face flashed across his mind
he couldn't refrain his expressions as they soured in response
How was he supposed to make himself busy all by himself?
Xue Hua didn't know,
Puckering his lips he mumbled incoherently before Yue Ran's face flashed past his mind
'Keep yourself busy'
those were the words Yue Ran told Xue Hua before leaving
He tried, he attempted to try, but with nothing much around what could he even do? He counted until he got tired, but Yue Ran still handy returned,
'keep yourself busy'
He thought on those words staring blankly at the ceiling as he laid still,
What did he mean by that?
Why did he say that?
Was he being too persistent?
Was he annoying in any way?
Was he-
'It's starting to get on my nerves'
Those words intersected with Yue Ran's face,
He imagined the same expression like those maids from an old memory on Yue Ran's face
His eyes fluttered back in shock, as his heart trembled wildly
He immediately slapped his cheeks
"No"
he shook his head,
Those words weren't meant for him.
They weren't.
Yue Ran was too kind to say those
If he found him annoying he would not allow him to follow behind
There was no way,
Those words were for--
He paused, his hands were sweaty
He mumbled through his sleeves half impatient and half cautiously
As soon as his hands touched a separate fabric from his clothes he pulled it out.
It was the very embroidery he had seen in his memories,
No- it wasn't his memories, they belonged to Xiaoming.
The handiwork was clumsy, rough and not very appealing
The shapes of the blossom were deformed but he still knew what they were
Whether it was thanks to sharing those memories or if because it still faintly resembled its source
[Plum blossoms]
The image of Xiaoming pricking her fingers many times and doing the work while holding back her tears was very vivid,
He could almost feel his own fingers bleed as he checked often to see if his blood bled too.
Even now, as he felt the threads, he felt the sensations of needles pricking his fingertips
Although he was merely a witness to her memories,
It kept overflowing into the present,
They kept overlapping with his experiences sometimes even fooling him into thinking he had done something before only for it to be a memory exclusive to Xiaoming
He didn't realise it but his mental fortitude was far weaker now than before as those deceased feelings, sensations kept digging themselves up from the ground.
Then he saw a pink thread coming off the cloth, it was a strand that had gone stray with no knot.
She had put in so much effort, but to think she never got to give it to her...
It was a pity, it was so pitiful that her mother had chosen to die just a couple days before she finished her first piece of work.
Most of her memories were of her following her mother around or watching the things she did everyday, Just like him, she watched her do mundane things with keen interest everyday, almost every waking moment of hers was spent following her,
It wouldn't be a lie to say that her life revolved around her mother, like the moon she circled around her mother who was her sun
And perhaps that was why she couldn't bear to be away from her even if her sun had slowly stopped offering warmth.
Did he resemble her? Or did she resemble him?
He wasn't sure, but the thing that separated them, was that her sun had died earlier leaving her to slowly crumble
Yet, he still couldn't help his envy, unlike him, she was close with her mother,
He scoffed, of course she was close with her,
After all that was her mother,
But...
What was he to Yue Ran?
Some child he had picked up, and some child he was still looking after,
But how long would he look after him?
Yue Ran wouldn't die as easily as Xiaoming's mother, he was strong, extremely strong.
But what if he just decided to stop letting him follow behind?
Unlike Xiaoming, they didn't have any kind of familial bond for reassurance
Just like how she needed her sun, Xue Hua also needed that immortal
He was very envious of Xiaoming's early memories,
Before she decided to secretly take the tools and start sewing she often saw her mother making embroideries
Watching her make and finish it, only to end up receiving it as a gift, it made her feel wonderful, surprised and really happy, because she saw just how much her mother worked hard to make it
That was why she decided to copy it herself, despite never having practiced, she watched her mother making other embroideries and secretly made her patterns in the shape of plum blossoms
Maybe he and Xiaoming were alike in many ways other than the ones that were obvious to him, he just didn't realise it and that's why she was pitiful.
He was pitiful.
Yet he was still envious of her
And how she was so confident in her mother's affection for her, and how she never drowned in her own thoughts
It was so... so...
painfully enviable.
He gripped the edges tightly, still it was pretty.
At least...she did something, she put her affection into something
He wrinkled his forehead
Before he sighed,
"Plum blossoms" he mumbled,
'hope, perseverance, resilience, moral purity and its five blessings'
Those were the things he recalled from the book,
"Hope..."
his gaze lingered onto those flowers before his attention wandered off.
The crunch of snow from back then, still as vivid as yesterday morning,
The silence that rang in his ears, his freezing bones
All her memories had become his, but his didn't and would never become hers
Unlike her, who was wrapped in warmth, all he had were memories of the cold, the clear scent of snow and its silent cruelty unlike her boisterous welcome.
But even so, it was a memory he would trade for nothing
Because, just moments before he succumbed to death's lullaby he saw two pairs of boots sunken in the snow.
The night veiled them both, but his sharp eyes were something that would never fail to sober him to snatch him so easily from death's embrace
Although he didn't know then.
Xiaoming's snow were soft, cold but comforting, soothing like an old lullaby
Thinking back on the chief and her mother, he couldn't help but compare himself to her and set her as some sort of internal standard
He thought about things he otherwise wouldn't, he questioned about his parents
What about his parents?
Did he even have one?
He asked himself all sorts of things, but there was no one who could offer him any sort of answer
In the silence of the room, he rubbed the edges of the fabric with his thumb which he had creased earlier by gripping too tightly.
The linen brushing against his finger tips were soft
Before long he turned his face as his hands dropped on the bed with the handkerchief still in his hand,
"Is he... at least close to being done with him?"
Although it hadn't been as long as he'd like to admit
It had been a while since Yue Ran had left, telling Xue Hua to keep himself busy.
But he still didn't know what he meant by that, if he saw him now- laying on the bed doing nothing
Would he be disappointed?
After a brief silence he sat up,
His braid had gotten messed up, his hair had grown longer than before, it was almost covering his bottoms now
He brought the braid forward while feeling it with his fingers,
Although Yue Ran continued to braid his hair every morning, Xue Hua couldn't help but want more
He wished that they could've shared rooms again but it was very unlikely,
He cursed that this manor was so big,
Maybe they would never share the same sleeping space again, he pondered
Maybe what happened in Shuangwei was just a one time thing,
Maybe it was just because the situation called for it...
He scratched the back of his hand,
He wanted to be closer to that immortal, he wanted to be someone he trusted.
His fingers scraped the thin skin in the back of his hand.
So as long as they were safe, it seems they wouldn't be sharing a room anytime soon, would they ever get as close as he hopes to?
But Xiaoming slept beside her mother often, they were so close
He bit his lower lips
Xue Hua didn't really like being alone, rather--
he didn't like being separated from Yue Ran
His thoughts were too loud for him. It was beyond something he could handle
But just being by Yue Ran somehow seemed to always put him at ease,
he rubbed the back of his skin that had peeled from all his scratches
It was starting to itch but as he tried to pick it, a sharp pain stung him
He flinched while hissing at the pain.
They had never gotten this bad before, since when these thoughts would begin surfacing Yue Ran would be close by to snap him back to reality
Those were his only moments of solace
His time spent with the immortal
His fingers curled, restlessly but he could not longer scratch his hand, Yue Ran would see it, he wouldn't be able to hide if it got any worse
So, hesitantly he placed his hands on his white hair, the red from his fingers rubbed on some of the strands as he brushed them with his fingers,
With the very fingers that were digging into him just moments earlier
He continued the motion for a long time
And like washing, the blood on his fingers faded and latched onto his hair instead,
It was as if he was rinsing his blood with his hair
Then His fingers stopped as another memory resurfaced, it was also a memory of him getting his hair braided, but
Not by Yue Ran, instead it was Xiaoming's mother who was softly brushing his hair as he looked up in that memory
And just when he saw her face it blurred swirling into another face, another form as he watched dazed before he finally noticed that the features it warped into were awfully familiar
"...ua"
"...hua"
"Xue Hua"
He snapped his head back,
But he was alone in the room, no one was there
Those memories were mocking him, he breathed heavy, as he stood up, looking around
That rot was taunting him.
The north was cold, and always covered with snow, but there was no place without warmth where people existed,
And for Xiaoming, her warmth was her mother
The gentle, embracing sensation of heat around one's chest,
Was it warmth?
It was
Came an answer, but not from his own mouth, but from the smiling little girl beyond his memories
Unlike the Xiaoming from his recent memories, the Xiaoming he saw was the one that still circled around her sun
Like a dandelion before being blown off by a gust of wind.
It was the her before her heat turned cold,
His imaginations ran rampant as the silence grew louder.
The sensation of frozen fingertips from playing in the snow, the soreness from laughing and smiling too much, it was foreign to him, but all those memories of those sensations merged with him,
His vision faltered momentarily as dizziness overcame him
Words were still ringing clear from when she blazed through the unforgiving cold, tinging her cheeks red harking the death's call moments before embracing the rotting flesh
That was how she met her end
But just before it took her in those memories, he'd always snap back to a moment in time,
One that truly belonged to him alone.
The figure was always slightly out of sight, but he always knew who that man was
'Do you want to follow me?'
He asked, moments before he could take his final breath,
After all that is a blur,
Xue Hua stood alone in the room, completely still
So, while he accepted her memories, his reality and his identity slowly blurred but just before he thought he'd lose himself
Those words never failed to drag him back out
Hence,
In this lonely and empty thing he called his existence,
Yue Ran alone kept him sober
An existence he didn't know the roots of nor the purpose damning him to a wasteland where the forgotten went, neither as living nor dead to drift amongst the bygones
Yue Ran offered him remembrance, offering himself salvation from that wretched state of wandering
"Ah "
He breathed softly
"I need to see him"
he mumbled indistinctively