#cheng yi birthday | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mykingdomforapen · 6 months ago

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Remember how I said I'm not done yet with the world of 'courage of stars'?

I couldn't help but write about a little one's origin story from the fic...a little Cassini, shall we say.

Spoilers for stars below teehee.

Cheng Xiaoshi was hiding something, and Lu Guang took a little too long to realise that maybe he was trying to be obvious about it.

He lay bundled up in his hospital bed, still attached to various tubes (albeit significantly fewer tubes and wires compared to a month ago), but he fidgeted clumsily with restless energy. In his hand was an oxygen clip on one finger and a birthday card in another, which he was eagerly shoving into Lu Guang’s hand.

“Happy birthday, Lu Guang!” he sang.

Lu Guang’s birthday had begun with Qiao Ling orchestrating an entire day out for him–breakfast with her parents, a morning at the art museum, a birthday lunch with Xu Shanshan and Dong Yi, and a nap back at the Qiao household before visiting Cheng Xiaoshi in the hospital. Qiao Ling was determined to spoil Lu Guang as if he was a ragdoll housecat, which meant that she let him use her precious fleece throw blanket during his nap, a privilege even Cheng Xiaoshi never earned.

Lu Guang was never one to want fanfare for his birthday. In part, due to the fact that for several timelines it was neither his first nor his last time turning nineteen, twenty, or twenty-one. After getting stabbed on his birthday at one point, he found it even less enjoyable. But when September crisped and cooled into October, Lu Guang felt as if he had finally seen the other side of an ocean for the first time, after an Odyssey lost at sea. It was an October identical to any other–dipping temperatures, bank holidays, persimmons–but all of a sudden Lu Guang thought it was the most miraculous of months and seasons. It was October, and Cheng Xiaoshi was alive.

He began to look forward to his birthday.

Although Cheng Xiaoshi was still bedridden in the hospital, he and Qiao Ling had apparently planned the day together. Qiao Ling had arranged the art museum tickets, and Cheng Xiaoshi had convinced her to let Lu Guang take a nap halfway through instead of going to a cafe (it was the most glorious nap that Lu Guang had taken that week), and now Lu Guang and Qiao Ling were stopping by the hospital to spend time with Cheng Xiaoshi, who quickly demanded to hear in full detail everything that had happened thus far.

“What kind of art did you see?” Cheng Xiaoshi asked. “What food did you eat? How much money did Qiao Shushu and Auntie Qiao give you in red envelopes?”

QIao Ling flicked Cheng Xiaoshi on the nose (she had quickly learned to restrain herself from her typical, more violent acts of reprimand in this time). “You nosy brat! That’s none of your business.”

Cheng Xiaoshi snickered. His voice was still breathy and he could only be out of bed for several minutes at a time as his body slowly got used to surviving. He looked a little worse for wear, admittedly–paler than he normally was, chronically drowsy, and was routinely struck with a painful tightness around the chest and shortness of breath that the doctors had yet to fully treat, but he was breathing and smiling and bantering with Qiao Ling. He was alive, and there were no more caveats.

So Lu Guang regaled Cheng Xiaoshi with his day, as he often did whenever he visited. Cheng Xiaoshi had struggled in the first several weeks of recovery after awakening from his coma, stricken with pain when he wasn’t under the heavy fog of medication and haunted by the memory of being killed twice. Yet he smiled every time Lu Guang visited, tired but genuine, and when he did not have enough breath to ramble he eagerly listened to Lu Guang fill the void, something that Lu Guang was not entirely accustomed to but grew to appreciate as he talked about the shop and recent soap dramas and his petty feud with a neighbor. He ran the pad of his thumb over the hollow of Cheng Xiaosh’s pulse on his wrist absentmindedly, and Cheng Xiaoshi listened with a faint smile on his lips, and neither of them remembered their pain.

“So, you’re heading home after this, right?” Cheng Xiaoshi said. “No other plans?”

He asked it in such an artificially casual way, like a helium balloon bouncing against the ceiling. As fairly decent he was at pretending to be other people in his dives, he was helplessly transparent when he was himself.

“I think so,” Lu Guang said, looking to Qiao Ling for confirmation. “We don’t have anything too special planned after this. Probably dinner.”

“Dinner sounds like a good idea,” Cheng Xiaoshi said lightly.

Lu Guang raised an eyebrow. Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes darted to the side nervously to Qiao Ling.

“I would think so,” Lu Guang said. “We generally do it every day.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cheng Xiaoshi said, waving a hand. “A birthday dinner…that will be special. You know, I think you should wear sandals for it.”

Lu Guang stared at him.

“What?” he asked, aghast.

Cheng Xiaoshi shrugged innocently.

“I’m just saying things,” Cheng Xiaoshi said. “Just…might be a good idea!”

“it’s the end of October.”

Cheng Xiaoshi hummed. Qiao Ling, in lieu of slapping him in the back of the head, pinched her nose bridge instead.

“Why should I wear sandals to dinner?” Lu Guang asked.

“Aiyah, don’t pepper me with questions,” Cheng Xiaoshi said. He turned his head away from Lu Guang to sink lower into the pillow. “I’m vulnerable with painkillers! I’m talking nonsense!”

“You’re such an idiot,” Qiao Ling muttered.

Cheng Xiaoshi turned to her to grin. Lu Guang resisted the temptation to roll his eyes.

“I told you,” Lu Guang said. “You didn’t have to get me anything for my birthday–”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cheng Xiaoshi said breezily.

“Idiot,” Lu Guang said with relish.

But he smiled, because Cheng Xiaoshi looked sheepish, mischievous, delighted, and above all else, he did not look in pain. He knew that underneath the hospital gown was a bandaged scar running down his sternum, twice opened–once to end his life and once to save it. But Lu Guang felt no compulsion to fix his eyes on it, like it were a beast or a rival he could not turn his back to. Cheng Xiaoshi’s laugh was enough.

“Surely you’ll have noodles, won’t you?” Cheng Xiaoshi said. “And not those instant noodles, although I would commit crimes for some cup ramen right now. The food here is so flavorless. I feel myself turning into an old man!”

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Qiao Ling said. “This is probably the most vegetables you’ve eaten than what you usually have in an entire year.”

“Why are you nagging me when Lu Guang eats the exact same meals as I do every day?”

Qiao Ling flashed a grin at Lu Guang.

“Because Lu Guang would just nod and say I’m right, and that’s not as fun,” she said saucily.

“What?” Lu Guang said, aghast. “I’m not a pushover!”

“You are a little,” Cheng Xiaoshi said cheekily.

Lu Guang huffed, but he didn’t know how to argue back when not that long ago, Cheng Xiaoshi had convinced Lu Guang to sneak a sesame ball into the hospital for him.

They spent the rest of the hour teasing and talking, with Qiao Ling perched on one side of the hospital bed and Lu Guang sitting cross legged on the foot of it. When visitation was over and Cheng Xiaoshi needed to rest, Cheng Xiaoshi beckoned Qiao Ling to come to his bedside and then, whispering loudly enough for Lu Guang to hear, said, “Don’t forget ot make sure he brings a soup spoon in his back pocket.”

“You’re an idiot,” Lu Guang said loudly, to which Cheng Xiaoshi sniggered. He squeezed Cheng Xiaoshi’s ankle. “Thanks for the card.”

Here, Cheng Xiaoshi’s mirth softened to wistfulness.

“I wish I could celebrate with you,” he said.

“You did,” Lu Guang said assuringly. “Now get some rest.”

“See you tomorrow?” Cheng Xiaoshi said hopefully. “Wait, no, no, you don’t have to. You might need some extra time at home.”

“Extra time for what?” Lu Guang asked.

This time, Cheng Xiaoshi’s sheepishness looked genuine.

“Never mind what I said!” he said hastily. “Happy birthday, Lu Guang.”

Lu Guang shook his head exasperatedly, bursting with gratitude. He and Qiao Ling bid Cheng Xiaoshi goodbye before heading back to the studio.

Lu Guang didn’t actually know what sort of dinner plans they would have; Qiao Ling insisted that she would plan every minute of the day, which was very generous if not extremely intimidating, but she had not made any indication of what dinner might be. He did notice, however, that she had been almost entirely glued to her phone during the entire visitation with Cheng Xiaoshi, frantically texting someone until her wrist hurt. She spent the bus ride flexing her hand, wincing.

“So,” Lu Guang said. “Do I really have to wear sandals and bring a soup spoon?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Qiao Ling said innocently.

Lu Guang narrowed his eyes.

“What is he planning?” he demanded.

“Don’t listen to him,” she said. “He’s on heavy medication.”

Her lips twitched into a muffled smile. Lu Guang let it slide with blossoming affection in his chest.

When they made it back to the Photo Studio, the sun had already begun its autumnal routine. Daylight dimmed into dusk as streetlights twinkled on in preparation. The photo studio stood out on the street with its lights shining through the wide glass windows, which struck Lu Guang oddly because he didn’t remember turning the lights on when they left that morning.

Beside him, Qiao Ling was starting a video call.

“Qiao Ling,” Lu Guang said. “What’s going on?”

“Hold on,” said Qiao Ling. “Gosh, what’s taking him so long–there we go!”

Cheng Xiaoshi’s face brightened her phone screen, his excitement fighting past his drowsiness.

“Are you there yet?” Cheng Xiaoshi said excitedly. “Are you home?”

“Almost,” sang Qiao Ling as she pulled out her landlady key. Lu Guang could see through the glass window that QIao Shushu was in the sunroom, crouched over the coffee table to put some finishing last touches on something. It must have been a birthday cake, and Cheng Xiaoshi called in to sing–Lu Guang fought down the instinct to scold Cheng Xiaoshi for not resting as he as overwhelmed with a wave of love.

“Lu Guang, do you have your sandals?” teased Cheng Xiaoshi.

“You’re such a child,” Lu Guang said, wishing for nothing less.

Cheng Xiaoshi beamed. Qiao Ling unlocked the front door and held it open for Lu Guang. Lu Guang walked inside as Qiao Shushu spun around quickly, shielding whatever was behind him from view with his proud grin.

“Back already, you two?” he said.

“Qiao Shushu, are you joining us for dinner?” asked Lu Guang.

“We’ll bring dinner here,” said Qiao Ling. “I think you might be inclined to stay home for the rest of the day, after all.”

She was grinning with all her teeth, and Cheng Xiaoshi in her hand was practically bouncing despite being propped up in a hospital bed.

“Happy birthday, Lu Guang!” Cheng Xiaoshi said again, as if he could never have enough of it. “This is my present to you–with the help of Qiao Shushu for setting it up and Qiao Ling for keeping you out of the house. Hurry, hurry, I want you to see!”

“You really didn’t have to–”

Qiao Ling hurried several paces ahead of Lu Guang so that she could turn the camera to face Lu Guang, just as Qiao Shushu stepped out of the way.

Lu Guang stopped dead in his tracks in the sunroom as he stared down at a cozy, bedecked glass tank on top of the coffee table. A wetland biome fit itself neatly in the glass box, complete with water, mud, rocks, and greenery, with a sun lamp shining down into it.

And in the middle of it all, content to mind its own business, and no bigger than a teacup, was a pale blue Amazon milk frog.

“Surprise!” Cheng Xiaoshi squealed.

Lu Guang didn’t realise his jaw was hanging until he noticed his tongue going dry. He knelt down so that he was eye level with the tank, his head buzzing into numbness with disbelief. The frog’s webbed feet were folded neatly underneath it, basking in the heating lamp’s ray with satisfaction.

“Do you like him?” Cheng Xiaoshi asked, his light voice lifting slightly with nervousness.

“You got him for me?” Lu Guang said quietly.

“I spent weeks trying to find one,” Cheng Xiaoshi said. “And Qiao Ling was helping me make phone calls to different shops all around China. Your yeye told me that you liked the milk frogs the best when you were little–”

“My yeye was in on this?” Lu Guang blurted out.

“Yep!” Cheng Xiaoshi said proudly. “He even got your dad to send me the name of the place you got the frog the first time–”

“My dad was in on this?”

Incredulity heaped itself on Lu Guang with every turn, but he could hardly summit any of them as he stared at the frog in the tank. It looked just like Milk Toast had, all those years ago, when his childhood frog would patiently wait for him to come home from school. This frog was a little bit smaller, slightly fewer warts, but it looked healthy and happy and Lu Guang couldn’t believe that this was meant to be his.

Emotion bundled itself in the middle of his throat. He blinked rapidly, moisture catching on his lashes.

“Thank you,” Lu Guang whispered. “I really like him.”

Cheng Xiaoshi pumped his fist on the screen. Qiao Ling was glowing with delight as she crouched next to Lu Guang to show Cheng Xiaoshi a closer view of the frog. Lu Guang leaned in so closely that the tip of his nose nearly touched the glass.

“What are you going to name him?” Qiao Ling asked.

Lu Guang had not regained his composure enough to make a decision such as that. He was fighting back the dampness on his cheeks and a laugh at himself that he, at twenty-two (twenty-two–it will take some time to get used to), would be weeping over a new pet frog like he did when he was a child. That seven-year-old boy, it turned out, was not as far behind him as he thought.

“I don’t know,” he said in a watery voice. “What do you think, Cheng Xiaoshi?”

“Me?” Cheng Xiaoshi said, flabbergasted.

Lu Guang nodded when his throat closed up with an overload of sentiment. Cheng Xiaoshi blinked before his lips stretched into a tentative, hopeful smile.

“What about Cassini?” he asked.

It came so naturally to the tip of his tongue that Lu Guang could only imagine how long it had already been sitting there before he had asked Cheng Xiaoshi for his opinion. It was a bold name, surprising in its grandeur, and somehow it seemed to fit neatly in this little frog. Lu Guang nodded, brushing his cheeks with a swipe of his thumb.

“I like that,” he said. “Cassini.”

It wasn’t until two months after Cheng Xiaoshi returned from the hospital did Lu Guang ask the question. By then, winter was already making room for spring, and a second Amazon milk frog had joined the glass tank. Cheng Xiaoshi had discovered that Amazon milk frogs were social creatures who needed friends. Lu Guang knew this about the frogs but kept that to himself, until Cheng Xiaoshi called him suddenly from the hospital sobbing.

“I didn’t buy him a friend!” he wept inconsolably, which tipped Lu Guang off that he probably received a generous dose of painkillers. “I ruined his life!”

“Cheng Xiaoshi, it’s fine,” Lu Guang said, but Cheng Xiaoshi cried over it until his heart monitor went up and the nurse had to check on him. After Cheng Xiaoshi went straight to sleep, Lu Guang thought that was the end of it. Naturally, when it came to Cheng Xiaoshi, it wasn’t, and after secretly selling some of his collectibles he purchased a second Amazon milk frog to the ecosystem. At this point, Lu Guang knew that it was less for him and more for Cassini’s sake, of whom Cheng Xiaoshi had requested daily photos of every day until he had been discharged.

So Cassini and his new friend, Huygens (per Cheng Xiaoshi’s request), both became Time Photo Studios’ resident frogs. While they were not the sort of animal to play with each other in obvious, mammalian fashion, Lu Guang couldn’t help but get the sense that Cassini was happier with a tankmate. He wasn’t surprised, considering what he knew about frogs.

What he was surprised about was the choice in names.

“Why’d you pick their names, by the way?” Lu Guang asked.

It was a lazy weekend evening, after dinner had been put away and Cheng Xiaoshi had taken all of his necessary medication. He was sprawled on their new sofa, playing a game on his phone while Lu Guang was snapping endless photos of the frogs on his phone as they politely sat on top of the log together.

Cheng Xiaoshi turned his head towards Lu Guang, his hair flopped over his forehead carelessly.

“Because you asked me to,” he said.

“No, I mean, why did you pick those names?”

Cheng Xiaoshi perked up. He set down his phone.

“You don’t know about the Cassini-Huygens probe?” he asked.

Lu Guang furrowed his brow.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “The names sounded familiar. I just thought they might have been one of your video game characters.”

“No!” Cheng XIaoshi sat up sharply. “It was a space probe that took tons of photos of Saturn! All of its rings and its moons and it sent them back to Earth and scientists learned so much about Saturn and–”

He stopped, suddenly pale, as the sudden rise of movement and energy was too much for his heart to take at once. He swayed on the sofa, and Lu Guang immediately beelined to the sofa to gently guide Cheng Xiaoshi back down to rest.

“Idiot,” Lu Guang said. Cheng Xiaoshi’s sudden drop caused an equally sudden spike in Lu Guang’s blood pressure, one that he had not fully learnt to let go of just yet. He cradled Cheng Xiaoshi’s neck as he lay him back against the pillow while Cheng Xiaoshi’s grimace grew sloppy with dizziness. “You get so overexcited.”

He sat by Cheng Xiaoshi’s side as Cheng Xiaoshi pressed a hand against his forehead, waiting for the dizziness to subside. Lu Guang unconsciously kept a hand on Cheng Xiaoshi’s other wrist, guarding his rapid pulse until it eased. Cheng Xiaoshi hid his eyes from Lu Guang, still not entirely used to this new state of being and thus self-conscious about it. Lu Guang said nothing else, instead running his hand gently over Cheng Xiaoshi’s forearm. It was, in some ways, more for himself than for his friend.

“They taught humans so much about Saturn,” Cheng Xiaoshi mumbled again, after a stretch of silence. “And then–and then, after twenty years, they couldn’t bring the probe back to Earth, so it self-destructed in Saturn’s atmosphere so that it wouldn’t accidentally hurt any of the moons.” At this, Cheng Xiaoshi’s voice tightened. “I just really liked it. “

Lu Guang softened. He let his hand fall away from Cheng Xiaoshi.

“I didn’t know that before,” he said. “That’s really interesting.”

Cheng Xiaoshi nodded. He went strangely quiet. Lu Guang teetered on the precipice of curiosity.

“How’d you first hear of it?” Lu Guang asked.

Cheng Xiaoshi hesitated.

“My mom,” he said. “She liked to read up on it, before…” Cheng Xiaoshi swallowed hard. “I don’t think she really knew what happened to it, though.”

Lu Guang hummed. He had come to learn Cheng Xiaoshi and what he needed most when the topic of his parents came up, before their deaths. Cheng Xiaoshi preferred to bring them up on his own, because the moment anyone else did he couldn’t help but assume they meant so accusingly and would automatically get defensive. And perhaps that was fair of him–neighbors assumed the worst, Qiao Ling’s parents avoided talking about them, and Qiao Ling followed suit. Lu Guang learned to take their example.

But what about now, when the grief was finally defined? The day Cheng Xiaoshi finally saw Cheng Yinhe’s ashes for the first time, he wept without restraint, releasing all the tears he had denied himself for fifteen years. Nothing technically changed, and yet his grief was fresh and unfamiliar, now that death made their absence final. Lu Guang knew even less what to do to help, if anything would. But if there was something he knew about Cheng Xiaoshi, it was that his best friend always wanted to share the things he loved with others.

“Did she tell you a lot about astronomy?” Lu Guang asked.

Cheng Xiaoshi sniffed heartily before nodding.

“She always talked about the moon,” he said. He dragged his wrist over his eyes and blinked blearily at Lu Guang. “She told me all sorts of things about it.”

“Like what?” asked Lu Guang.

“Like…did you know that the moon shakes?”

Lu Guang blinked.

“It does?” he asked.

Cheng Xiaoshi cracked a smile.

“Yeah,” he said. “It vibrates. Because it goes super hot and then super cold all of a sudden all the time, or something like that.”

“Huh.” Lu Guang tilted his head so that he could look out the sunroom glass. The moon was rising early, its crescent arc peeking through the treeline. “I never knew that.”

“Cool, right?” Cheng Xiaoshi said.

“Yeah,” Lu Guang said earnestly. “So the Cassini-Huygens, it studied Saturn’s moons?”

“Yeah,” Cheng Xiaoshi said. “Saturn has tons of moons. Not as many as Jupiter, I think, but…I don’t remember how many.”

“Let’s check,” Lu Guang said as he pulled out his phone. “I’d like to know more.”

Cheng Xiaoshi smiled wider.

#LC writes #link click #cheng xiaoshi #lu guang #stars commentary #frog guang returns #with his best friend moon xiaoshi

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