Thread by @zarasu333

#hualian Modern AU where, when Xie Lian’s parents died and their company crashed, the only thing keeping him sane was his online friend, Wu Ming. Back then, their chats were his only safe place, even though he didn't know anything at all about Wu Ming, not even his real name.

Their relationship lasted exactly eight months, during which Wu Ming grew to be most important person in Xie Lian's life, the only thing making him happy.

Then, after eight months, Xie Lian had a bad day and they had a fight.

It was over some nonsensical thing, Xie Lian doesn't even remember what. But after that, Wu Ming stopped talking to him. Xie Lian had managed to drive away the only person he had left with his stupid temper.

What he doesn't know is that, back then, Jun Wu hired someone to hack into Xie Lian's accounts and send Wu Ming messages about how XL didn't ever want to talk to him again before blocking him. And XL was much too inexperienced with social media to realize.

But life went on. As the years passed, Xie Lian slowly managed to pick himself up, finish his schooling, get a job. He's twenty-five now and he's functional. Some days he still feels hollowed out, but he tries.

Trying doesn't only mean going to work, showering regularly and talking to people, it also means doing fun things sometimes. Trying a new café, going to the park and, today, visiting an art exhibition.

He isn't really feeling it but two weeks have gone by and his calendar tells him its time for a fun activity. So, art exhibition. There's a new one in his city he can take the bus to, even.

It takes half an hour to get there during which Xie Lian looks out the window

And thinks about how long he has to stay until he can go back home. It's not a great day for him, but there haven't been a lot of great days lately and he knows that it won't get better if he doesn't go.

The gallery is a fairly big building and Xie Lian is surprised how many people are milling around.
He doesn't even know the name of the artist or what kind of art it is, he realizes.

Doesn't really matter to him one way or another though.

He joins the queue and eventually buys a ticket. "It's in the east wing," the ticket lady tells him. "Just through the doors over there."

So Xie Lian goes through the doors over there.

The rooms the exhibition is in are fairly large and full of people, so at first, Xie Lian doesn't see much more of the art than vague splashes of color on the walls.

So he just follows the flow of the masses until he gets to a huge painting at the back of the hall.

People are crowding before it and Xie Lian has to wait a while before he gets to see it. When he finally does, he is, despite himself, moved.

It's a huge painting of a parade, colorful and vibrant and, above it all, a figure.

A person, dressed in beautiful robes and a golden mask, flowers in their hair and a smile on their face. They're holding a child in their arms, a dirty, scruffy boy dressed in bandages and a red shirt and they're looking down at him so tenderly.

All at once, he's curious about the title. He pushes his way through the people until he gets to the little sign beside it. Only the title of the picture is written on it:

Taizi Dianxia

Taizi Dianxia. Nine years ago, Taizi Dianxia was his user name online. A coincidence, Xie Lian thinks, nothing more. But still, he frantically starts to look for the artist's name on the painting. He finds it in the corner, in a horrible scawl:
Wu Ming

Xie Lian is frozen, doesn't even notice the people pushing past him. Then, he stumbles to the next picture. Then the next. Wu Ming, Wu Ming, all of them say the same. All of them feature the same person, Taizi Dianxia.

They tell a story, he realizes. A story of the rise and the fall of a prince. But there's another reoccurring figure there. The boy in red, turned soldier, turned ghost. And, while the prince's face is always hidden, by a mask, by another mask, by a hat

The boy's face is open to the viewer. He's always looking at the prince with devotion, even when he's wearing a mask it's obvious.

Finally, he reaches the last painting. It's just the boy, turned ghost now. But he's taken off his mask and he's looking down at a flower that he holds in his hand.

Xie Lian turns around, looks at that vibrant, beautiful story told in paintings and he knows.

The artist is giving a speech this evening, people say.

So, Xie Lian sits down on a bench and he waits. For hours, he waits. Sometimes he stands up and looks at the art again before he sits back down.

Eventually, some people set up a microphone.

People gather before the area where it's set up and Xie Lian joins them. The artist shows up on time.

It's a tall, thin man clothed in red. He has long hair and beautiful hands and his face looks cold.

His speech is short and to the point. He doesn't talk about his inspiration or himself, and only vaguely answers two questions before he leaves again.

Xie Lian follows him. Normally, he'd be too embarrassed to do something like that, but he sneaks into the backrooms.

And he finds him. The man is packing a few things into his bag, his back to Xie Lian.

Xie Lian clears his throat. "Ah, excuse me," he says. "Wu Ming?"

The man turns around and looks at him. There's no recognition in his eyes, he's just waiting to hear what XL wants.

For a moment, XL is tempted to just say, never mind, and leave. But if this is really Wu Ming...

"I'm awfully sorry if I'm mistaking you for someone else," XL laughs awkwardly. "But, a few years ago, I knew someone called Wu Ming. And he knew me by Taizi Dianxia."

The man's eyes grow very wide, but XL quickly continues before he can say anything.

"But, if it's you, if you're the Wu Ming from back then, then I only wanted to say, thank you. For being there for me then. I never got the chance to say that."

"And I'm sorry," he tells the frozen man, "for how things ended. I never wanted to hurt you and I... I apologize."

The man had come close while Xie Lian spoke. He's standing before him now, his eyes taking in Xie Lian's face with a strange desperation.

"Dianxia?" he asks and his voice is very raspy.

Xie Lian laughs and ducks his head. "Well, it's Xie Lian, actually, but... yes."

Wu Ming's hands come up to his face, holding it for a moment before flinching away again.

They just stare at each other for a long moment before Wu Ming looks back into the direction of the exhibition. "I know you didn't want to talk to me anymore," he says, very quietly, "if this is... well, I think it's obvious who the inspiration for all this is."

"If you don't like it, I'll take it down, I swear it," he continues. "I just. Couldn't help but hope. That maybe you might forgive me for whatever I did wrong. I couldn't help but hope that, if enough people saw my art, it might some day find its way to you."

"And that you might decide to talk to me once again."

His face isn't very cold anymore, Xie Lian thinks. Instead, it's heartbreakingly vulnerable.

Xie Lian laughs, but it isn't a happy laugh.

"What you did wrong?" he asks. "You've done nothing wrong. It was me who ruined everything. I understand why you didn't want to talk to me anymore, I was horrible to you."

"But, you told me you didn't want me to bother you ever again?" Wu Ming asked confused.

"I... didnt?" Xie Lian is equally confused.

That is the moment when they both realize that something went very wrong. But it's in the past, whatever happened. And they're here now.

"Would you, maybe," Xie Lian asks then, "want to go for a coffee with me?"

"Yes," Hua Cheng says, so loudly it echoes through the empty room. Xie Lian can't help but think that his eyes look a little bit like the boy's in the paintings now.

They go for that coffee. And for another the next day. The next day, they don't because Xie Lian cooks for them instead.

He hasn't cooked in years, but this day, he just felt like it.