"…Why?" Shan Si asked, disgruntled with Wan Mie's choice.
Wan Mie merely shrugged. "He looks like one—I mean, look at this face!"
Widening eyes darted in Wan Mie's direction, just as slender fingers pressed in Tao Hua's cheeks, forcefully pursing his lips. Unsure how to react, Tao Hua remained stunned for a moment.
In the wake of his utter audacity, Wan Mie had wrapped his arm around Tao Hua's shoulder and pushed out his lips with his other hand, making the poor, captive princess look no better than a pouting fish.
"Cute, right? Certainly, My Lord agrees?" Wan Mie's smile was wide and mischievous, baring teeth. This solicited no reaction from Shan Si, and he merely stared at Wan Mie with complete disgust and disinterest. Wan Mie's eyes flattened, and he added, "Oh, come now, what choice in the matter did I have? I think it's a creative solution. Right, Rabbit's Foot?"
Wan Mie side-glanced Tao Hua, but at this rate, Tao Hua had already tried turning his head to Shan Si, his eyes begging for his help.
"Don't ever become a poet," said Shan Si. He lifted his hand, approaching the pair, and swatted Wan Mie on the head. "And stop touching what's not yours. Quit it!"
Wan Mie didn't flinch; he just let out a dramatic sigh and removed his hands from Tao Hua.
"All poets strive for a reaction. I think I'll be just fine," Wan Mie retorted, patting the area of impact. He mocked, "Don't touch things…since when did that ever matter?! Your fingerprints are written all over this place! This man too! I call it unfair."
The two began to squabble, one seemingly enjoying the argument while testing the patience of the other, who was ready to kill him.
During this, Tao Hua hadn't paid them any attention as he was still processing his shock, derailing into a multitude of different thoughts. He reached his hand up and brushed it along the reddened imprints of Wan Mie's fingers.
Three nicknames.
In the span of a day, he received three new nicknames to his growing list of titles, and none of them spelled out "Tao Hua." Every single one of them were capable of rivalling the old names the townspeople graciously honoured him with back in Siyue Town.
In fact, these felt endearing and natural, as if they were meant to exist. Even if they were done by invading Tao Hua's personal space, he'd always been an easy person to push around.
The problem with new, however, was that Tao Hua wasn't quite used to it, and he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to get used to it. It made his heart flutter with confusion, and he couldn't comprehend why none of them had the same flavour as "Village Letdown," "Idiot," or "Good-For-Nothing."
Little Flower, Funny Little Man, Rabbit's Foot… Tao Hua thought. Was this how the world outside of all he knew viewed him? Was it good or bad—insulting or delicate?
Who knew! Certainly not Tao Hua!
Even more pressing, he wondered if it was simply all off first impressions. Often, first impressions were misleading, and could easily lead someone down the wrong path; Tao Hua understood this well. Which meant that as soon as they learnt who he was, would the treatment return?
Such old wounds couldn't heal under the gauze of innocence. At this thought, Tao Hua lifted his hands, looking down at his palm—it reminded him of what happened amid Shan Si's moment back in the estate. A home he could no longer return to.
Curling his fingers against the silk, he glided the tips over every scuff of dirt and blotch of blood. The number of times he'd slammed his hands to the ground, trying to protect his fall, to grinding it against a tree…and yet it stuck to him, refusing to budge. No tear, no slip, just perfectly tied and secure.
This wouldn't have been done back at the Tao Estate—well, bandaging. His cheeks were often pressed in when he fucked up, usually forced to read something, or agree to something. And whenever Tao Hua got hurt, his wounds were addressed only by paid servants only, after the death of his grandfather.
So, he understood what it meant to be patched up when care was involved, and he also understood the complete opposite.
Shan Si's was different, however, and he couldn't quite place his reasoning behind every kind action and every mean word said. Perhaps it just meant Tao Hua was so broken, he couldn't quite differentiate the two.
How was he supposed to reason with that?
He clenched his fist and lowered his hand, looking up at Wan Mie. His hands were spread out, wildly trying to explain his reasoning and convince Shan Si of its brilliance.
Shan Si kept shaking his head, sneering. The two were so caught up in the argument, neither had realized Tao Hua's disposition. But it was evident in the way the corners of his eyes reddened and stung. So, with all his might, he tried to choke back the urge to cry, lest he wanted Shan Si to think of him as weak.
…Well, more weak than he'd already came off.
Successfully, Tao Hua swallowed the overwhelming emotion. Compared to Shan Si, he slept soundly; therefore, he had a little more energy in subduing the urge and gaining even a sliver of control and savouring what little he had of his masculinity.
His eyes fell on Shan Si and seemed to stick there for the remainder of their argument, but he couldn't make out a single word said. It was as if they were nothing more than white noise against his roaring mind.
Each revelation inundated him further into this trance, just as he fixated on each of Shan Si's features. From his height to his blemish-free face, and to the way each strand of hair seemed to perfectly fall into place.
It was the pinnacle of what Tao Hua thought of as perfect. Admiration, to be exact, and something he wished he could attain.
So, in reality, he didn't want to look away. This man could do and has done many things wrong—flipped the script countless times, switched up personality when things didn't go his way, and struggled heavily with admitting what was on his mind.
Yet…? Tao Hua felt entirely drawn to such a character.
Deep down, he wondered if that was simply his touch-starved, friendless cry for help in something that wasn't normal.
The Bookstore version of Shan Si, however? That might be normal. He ever-so-desperately wanted to believe that the man he'd met at The Bookstore was the real him, and not the man who shoved him against a wall.
No, Tao Hua was certain after their conversation in Buzhi Forest, on his back, that he knew who it was that hid under the surface of Shan Si's control.
It has to be whatever mess they're in…Wan Mie mentioned it earlier. But what is that mess? Tao Hua pondered, rationalizing every excuse possible, his eyelids lowering. He really didn't know the first thing about why Shan Si did what he did, but judging from how things were playing out, he assumed it must have been serious.
If I help him with that, will he be fine? I'd need him to open up to me first…I could ask Wan Mie, but would that put me on Shan Si's bad side?
All he felt in that moment was the strengthening desire to help Shan Si. In truth, he realized that the two weren't all that different—just different circumstances. Therefore, he could sympathize with Shan Si's awful actions.
But he had to wonder, looking away from Shan Si and toward the stone. Does that make me delusional?
Was it so bad being delusional if it was only he who knew? Like exactly how he handled Siyue Town, Tao Hua could create a world in his head that none could venture. It was his little safe place, filled with whatever made him happy.
Whether that be questionable dreams of things not done or hidden enjoyment under flustered anger, it was still better than what he had back home.
Tao Hua would gladly take it over that any day, and he'd readily work towards turning into someone that Shan Si respected. All of his curiosity seemed to fall on Shan Si, despite there being so much of himself he didn't know.
Every time he thought about those things he didn't know, it would always turn back to how that could help. His mother's name, his Father's origin, Siyue Town—he'd willingly unearth it all for someone like Shan Si.
Turns out he might just be delusional after all.
A hand pressed against his back, pulling Tao Hua straight out of his trance. He looked up, noticing that the hand was now directing him toward the exit, just as it slowly opened. Then, around, he saw Wan Mie wasn't anywhere to be seen. Instead, it was Shan Si who strolled next to him.
Though he was growing slightly fond of Wan Mie's chaos, Tao Hua was glad it was Shan Si near him. A warm feeling washed over him, just as he studied Shan Si's face once more.
"Ignore him," said Shan Si, waiting before the door. "You don't have to accept that nickname. Let's go."
But Tao Hua just smiled warmly—a bit goofy, as always. Without thinking, he bashfully bent his neck, looking down at the ground. At the movement of Shan Si's hand, grazing along Tao Hua's shoulder blades, his entire body felt rather light and tingly.
"I like it," he replied in a whisper.
This caught Shan Si off guard. He glanced down at Tao Hua, just as the glow of the palace illuminated them brightly in the winter white. The more Tao Hua made himself look small and slightly embarrassed, the softer Shan Si's complexion grew.
He didn't smile; however, he just glanced back up at the exit.
"Then you can keep it."
And Tao Hua would accept that order as if his life was completely in Shan Si's hands. But it wasn't necessarily Wan Mie's name he was referring to.
It was fine, though. Both could exist at the same time, and Tao Hua was starting to learn that slowly but surely, and it was evermore apparent just as he took his first step into his home.
Chapter end.