Chapter Text
In retrospect, perhaps Hua Cheng shouldn’t have been alone that night.
The hour was late, and Hua Cheng was tired of the bright lights and rowdy crowds that were a mainstay in his casino. The neon lights seemed to burn into his retina, and Hua Cheng was more than glad to finally leave his underground playground for the rich and depraved. Exiting the Gambler’s Den and making his way across Ghost City , Hua Cheng shrugged his crimson jacket off and draped it over an arm as he emerged from his hedonistic city and took to the streets. The night wasn’t young, but the heat from the last of the summer days still lingered on the stone pavements, a stubborn warmth that sat and stewed in the still night air. He gestured to the men waiting by his sides.
In a heartbeat, a cigarette was brought to his lips by one of his men to his left, while the one on his right offered a light from a sleek lighter in a silver case, embossed with delicate butterflies engaged in a mid-flight dance. Hua Cheng took the cigarette and inhaled, catching the flame and igniting one end, dragging out that satisfying first puff from the stick. He removed the cigarette and exhaled, the tendrils escaping into the night air.
“The car will be around in five,” one of the men in black supplied, “The captain is waiting inside to brief you on your day tomorrow.”
Hua Cheng rolled his shoulders pensively, both of them stiff from a long day of sitting through meetings. A quick look at his watch showed him it was just an hour past midnight, but Hua Cheng was in a mood , and that mood didn’t involve more business talk.
“Tell Yin Yu to take the car and the rest of the night off,” Hua Cheng responded instead, and his man bowed and took out a cell phone to relay the message immediately. The rest of the entourage fell into step with Hua Cheng, ready to follow their patriarch wherever he led.
“Leave me be,” he said to his men, “It’s a nice night for a walk.”
“But Patriarch...” someone started, but the protest died just as abruptly once he was on the receiving end of Hua Cheng’s icy glare.
His men bowed in reverence while Hua Cheng turned heel, his black boots clicking on the pavement as he made his way away from the main roads, feeling the garish lights fade into the distance and the constant pulsing music fizzle and fade into the quiet streets.
He had no idea where he wanted to go, but it was one of those nights where his restlessness couldn’t be contained, and perhaps wandering the streets in a city that never slept was exactly what he needed.
At the back of his mind, he knew that this was probably all the excuse his rivals needed to catch him off guard too.
Hua Cheng had spent years building up a fearsome reputation that kept most rival clans from trying to move in on his territories, but rumours of an old clan that dared to challenge him had began to emerge - if the reports were right, a slew of strategically timed arson attacks and seemingly unrelated gang fights all point to the White No Face clan experiencing a resurgence.
And it seemed like they were coming for him.
No matter, Hua Cheng thought, I’ll be careful, and they’ll never beat me.
Hua Cheng took an unnecessarily long and convoluted route to shake any of his hard-headed men who undoubtedly were following Yin Yu’s orders, unwilling to leave their Patriarch unprotected in these uncertain times.
Hua Cheng eventually found himself in a quieter part of town, where the shop houses had long closed for the day. He vaguely remembered walking by this stretch once, stopping in on one of the cafes here for a quick respite - it was already cosy in the day, and the quiet night streets only enhanced the sleepy vibe of this neighbourhood. It was different - peaceful, even. Hua Cheng decided he liked it here.
From a distance, a faint glow in a shop window caught Hua Cheng’s eye.
Slowing his already unhurried footsteps, he came to a stop outside a flower shop that was faintly illuminated from within by a soft string of fairy lights that hung from the ceiling, covering a wall with its gentle twinkling. The lights were pretty, but what drew Hua Cheng’s attention through the shop windows was a riot of colours that refused to be dulled by the darkness. Amongst all the flowers, he could see the white carnations that stood out like a beacon in the dark.
A small, sad smile crept onto Hua Cheng’s face as a memory long past snaked tendrils around his heart, squeezing the air out of his lungs.
--
“Gege, gege! This is all I have now, but one day I’ll buy you a whole city of flowers!” Hua Cheng smiled, holding up a single white carnation.
“My, my, you really plan to live up to your name, don’t you? What a lovely gift, Hua Cheng!”
Hua Cheng’s smile turned into a petulant pout.
“I’ll be Hua Cheng to everyone else, but Gege is special, so Gege should only call me San Lang!”
“Alright my San Lang,” a hand came to rest on his cheek, before travelling to his head and ruffling his hair lightly, “Anything you wish.”
--
Hua Cheng took a deep breath, desperate to shake the memory from his mind as he stared hard into the shop, his fists clenched at his sides. It had been so many years, yet it never got easier to remember. Every memory was a reminder that he had failed, a reminder that he never got to keep his grandiose promises.
He tried willing himself to focus his vision onto something else other than the flowers to ground himself. He needed his wits about him, after all. His vision shifted, and suddenly he was looking at his own reflection in the shop’s window. His one eye glinted back at him and he absentmindedly adjusted his eyepatch in the reflection.
A shadow moved behind him, and Hua Cheng saw the glint of a silver dagger reflected in the window just in time to flinch hard. He dodged quickly to his right as the dagger missed his face narrowly, nicking the skin of his cheek.
Hua Cheng spun around to see a bunch of men dressed in white, armed to the teeth with daggers, nailbats, and knuckle dusters. So the White No-Face clan had decided to move against them after all. Hua Cheng’s eye darted across the welcoming committee and counted at least fifteen men.
“Crimson Rain, you’re going down tonight! We’re taking you out!” the man who struck him taunted, brandishing the dagger threateningly.
Hua Cheng barked a laugh. He thumbed the scratch on his cheek where a single trickle of blood escaped from the wound and gazed lazily at it, before bringing it to his lips to lick it clean, staring straight at his assailant.
“Fucking cowards,” Hua Cheng spat, his hands reaching behind him to grasp his own dagger that was tucked in his waistband,, “Fifteen men? Tell your coward of a boss to bring it. I’ll wipe the floor with as many of you useless trash he sends.”
He unsheathed the dagger in one swift motion, raising it slowly in front of him to let the glinting steel reflect the feral gaze in his one eye. Cocking his head to the side, his eye swept through the crowd to drink in the fear that oozed from them. He knew his reputation - a couple of the younger men caught his crazed look and hesitation weighed on their limbs like lead - a weakness that didn't go unnoticed.
Hua Cheng had a blade in his hand - the night was young, and he had fifteen men to rip to shreds. He let out a low growl, and in a flash, he was tearing through the crowd.
It was going to be a good night.
--
In hindsight, Hua Cheng really, really shouldn't have gone off alone in the middle of the night, on the edge of one of the most precarious clan wars to ever threaten this city.
The bastards had called for backup, and fifteen men soon became twenty five, but all twenty five men had turned tail and ran after Hua Cheng had all but destroyed them with his lightning fast strikes and ruthless knifework. Grabbing their fellow gang members who were bleeding out in the dirt, they had beat a hasty retreat and Hua Cheng wasn’t inclined to pursue them.
Not when he had a giant gaping wound to his side. Someone had brought a gun to a knife fight, and Hua Cheng had gotten blindsided in the chaos. His mind had blanked out after he realised he had been shot, and pure feral instinct took over - he only vaguely remembered stabbing the sorry bastard in the gut and twisting it upwards before disarming him. The group had fled once they saw Hua Cheng had possession of the firearm.
Gingerly holding on to his right abdomen, he stumbled into a back alley and out of sight, just in case the rival clan decided to come back to finish what they started.
Yin Yu was right, Hua Cheng thought, I am too reckless. I’ve been living like I have a deathwish.
He stumbled, catching the side of a dumpster, before propping himself up the wall of the alley. Pressing a shoulder to the wall he slowly slid and sat down in the dirt. His breathing was ragged and laboured, and black spots were appearing at the side of his vision. If he couldn’t stop the bleeding, he was going to die.
Using his free hand, he patted his pockets for his cell phone, pulling it out to dial for help, only to realise the screen had cracked and the phone had split open in the fight - the electronics were barely held together by the flimsy screen.
Hua Cheng huffed a laugh.
To think the feared Crimson Rain, the respected Patriarch Hua was about to bleed out like a stuck pig in a back alley next to a dumpster.
I guess this is apt, Hua Cheng mused, I deserve this for everything I’ve failed to do.
I just wished I could have seen him one last time...
A bright light suddenly blinded his vision and Hua Cheng blearily realised that someone had opened the back door of a shop, and was now standing at the doorway gasping loudly at him.
“Sir! Excuse me sir, can you hear me?” a frantic voice called out to Hua Cheng, and it must really be the blood loss because for a moment, Hua Cheng swore it sounded just like him , “Mister you’re bleeding! Did you get shot? Holy crap, let me call an ambulance...”
Hua Cheng grasped at this stranger’s arm weakly, “No ambulances... no hospitals.”
It was too dangerous, Hua Cheng’s addled mind supplied. If he had showed up in a hospital half dead, his men would be in danger. White No-Face had spies everywhere, and all the rival clans would know in an instance and strike at once while he was out of commission. His men would be completely blindsided. He couldn’t do this to them.
“Okay Mister, no ambulances, but you’re bleeding horribly, is there someone I can call? You need medical attention!”
Hua Cheng felt the stranger cup his face to assess him, looking into his eyes to see if he could still focus. His vision swam, the edges blurring and melding, until the face in front of him came into focus, and then it was Hua Cheng’s turn to gasp.
“It’s you,” Hua Cheng breathed.
The fluorescent light from the doorway cast a soft halo around his head, and Hua Cheng couldn't tell if this was his warped mind granting him one last hallucination before he dies, but it didn't matter now. If this was a hallucination, he didn’t want clarity. This, this was all he ever wanted.
“I’m sorry? Do I know you, Mister? Please, answer me, is there anyone else I can call?” the voice was frantic, and it was quickly edging into panic.
Hua Cheng lifted a hand, reaching for the man’s face but finding his strength wanting, finding it far beyond his reach, but he tried nonetheless.
“It’s you,” Hua Cheng whispered again, as he felt his strength leaving him, “I’m so glad... so glad I got to see you... one last time.”
Hua Cheng’s hand fell limp against his side as the blood loss finally claimed his consciousness.
--
Hua Cheng had no idea how much time had passed, but slowly his consciousness came back in wave after incremental wave, until suddenly he was aware and awake. This came as a surprise - he never expected to wake up again. Blinking away the sleep that lingered, Hua Cheng groaned before wincing gingerly.
The first thing he noticed was that he was definitely, a hundred percent alive because he felt like he’d been hit by a truck and then some - everything hurt like hell.
The second was that he was in a very comfortable, soft bed. The sheets were well worn with use and soft to the touch, and Hua Cheng turned his cheek and nuzzled deeper into the cool surface of the pillow, completely tempted to fall asleep for at least another twelve hours.
The third was that he wasn't alone. Leaning over from an armchair next to his bed was a familiar figure smiling softly at him, and suddenly all of Hua Cheng’s breath was knocked out of his lungs because it couldn’t be, could it? Could it really be him?
Hua Cheng tried to sit up and regretted it instantly, reeling from the sharp pain in his side. He was immediately steadied by a pair of strong arms.
Okay, definitely not a dream, Hua Cheng thought, the warmth from those arms sinking into his cold, clammy skin.
“Hey, you shouldn’t try to get up yet! You’re very hurt, and you’re lucky to be alive, you know. I just happened to be taking out the trash when I found you - imagine if I had put it off till the morning! I’m really glad I didn’t,” the man in front of him chided gently, and Hua Cheng could only gape with his mouth wide open.
“You ok? How are you feeling now? Do you remember anything from that night?” The man continued his barrage of questions and Hua Cheng only let out a small whine, shaking his head minutely.
“That’s ok, don’t worry! It’ll come back to you. Oh, what’s your name by the way? I just realised we haven’t been introduced!”
Hua Cheng stared stupidly into those honey brown eyes and the gorgeous chestnut locks that were framing his face, searching for something, anything behind them, any slightest inclination of recognition at all to show that he remembered .
He held the man’s gaze for a long time, but there was nothing.
Hua Cheng opened his mouth, only to close them when no sound came out. He cleared his throat lightly before trying again.
“San Lang,” Hua Cheng said hoarsely, “My name is San Lang.”
The man beamed up at him like the first rays of dawn after a long, cold night, and Hua Cheng suddenly isn’t sure that he didn’t die and end up in heaven after all.
“It’s so nice to properly meet you, San Lang,” the man said, “My name is Xie Lian!”