Work Text:
Keeping his head down, he carries the groceries down the sunny street and into the studio. The welcome bell sounds—there's really no way around that—and he prepares for someone to call for him, but nobody does. Cheng Xiaoshi flickers his eyes up and toward the sunroom. Lu Guang is reading on the couch, legs crossed and face passive as he consumes the words written. It might be the third book this week for all Cheng Xiaoshi knows. He doesn't quite pay mind to them.
He turns away and starts putting away the week's groceries, ignoring the feeling of inadequacy at how little food there really is. They can't afford much of anything. The boba trips he constantly craves are incredibly ill-advised and he's been actively tallying up each time he has a craving. The current tally of six, carved on his left arm sting at the mere thought of them.
The cabinet closes with a bang, much louder than he meant for it to, but it's even louder amidst the quiet shop. Cheng Xiaoshi doesn't dare look toward the sunroom and finds himself breathing for a moment with his eyes closed. He'll get through this. He'll be less of a bother. Just tone it down.
"Sorry," he whispers. He doesn't want acknowledgement, but neither does he want to go without. Guilt wells up enough within him without adding to the pile.
Finishing up, he carefully folds the reusable bag and tucks it away in its designated drawer. He tries to find something else to do with his hands, like play a video game on his phone, but then he remembers how he's a notorious micro-spender and had decided to delete all of his games last week cold turkey. Fine. Work it is.
It's nearly 7pm on a Thursday, and the shop closed at 5pm today. He's more or less his own boss, so it doesn't matter if he wants to work overtime. It's not like he's getting paid time and half for it.
Cheng Xiaoshi has his hand on the doorknob to the darkroom when Lu Guang asks, "did you get the potatoes?" His hand clutches the knob and he swallows.
"Yes, I got five, like you asked."
"Can you make the rice? I'll start with the soup," Lu Guang announces as he walks toward the kitchenette. A bout of irritation flares within him, but he forces it back down.
"Sure," he answers plainly, forcibly letting go of the door knob in a death grip. He'll make the rice, then he'll head straight into the darkroom. There are at least four clients' worth of pictures in there he needs to attend to. then he'll have to update his portfolio for photo shoots afterwards.
Nodding to himself, he locks in the plan and gets to work.
The days filter in and out of his memory. All he knows to do is jot down any appointments or client information to follow up on later. Honestly, he doesn't think he's ever been this organized before and it's starting to give him a migraine. Cheng Xiaoshi's been looking straight into the sun for a whole week. It's a wonder that he hasn't gone blind by this point.
Thankfully, they haven't seen Qiao Ling in just as long. She's been busy with her own affairs, but she's made a bit of time thrice this week to text Cheng Xiaoshi privately and in their group chat with Xu Shanshan and Lu Guang. As long as he replies within an hour or so, barring any dives, then there's no cause for concern. He just needs to stay vigilant.
Like right now: he clicks out of the tab for shop supplies to find that sound has faded back into his life.
"Cheng Xiaoshi!" Lu Guang yells, annoyance tainted in his tone as he speed-walks to the front desk. Said front desk is unbelievably noisy and worsening his migraine. "Answer the phone!"
Ah. The phone.
His eyes snap to attention, and Cheng Xiaoshi finally answers the ringing phone right as Lu Guang gets within reaching distance.
The conversation is quite short. It's a client that sounds terribly tired, asking for the studio's opening hours and services. Apparently, the only reason they even considered calling was due to word of mouth advertising. Cheng Xiaoshi should be more grateful. Even with such ringing endorsements from their previous clients, it's made a frustrating experience as they're lacking any internet presence. Cheng Xiaoshi tucks the information away and resolves to do something about that this very night.
Cheng Xiaoshi picks a random spot on the coffee table and lets his mind wander.
Taking this dive job would cover the month's rent, easy. That's one burden covered. The rest of their profits this month will go into paying back the debt he owes Qiao Ling's family. They have a little less than a week left until the month's over, so this is making great time. Even better, Cheng Xiaoshi has a solo photography gig in two days. If he keeps this up, they'll have a constant overflow of cash at the end of each month.
The debt can be paid back sooner rather than later, and Qiao Ling's family won't have to worry about him any longer. It'll be over.
"We'll take it," he says with resolution in his eyes and tone. Qiao Ling's eyes flicker from him to Lu Guang, who always has the final say in these dive jobs. but with the pay? He has to take it. No question.
"We have to decline." Lu Guang shakes his head gently and returns the photo to Qiao Ling. Cheng Xiaoshi practically jumps out of his seat in shock and outrage.
"What, why not?! It's a simple job. I'll just pop in, deliver the message, and it'll be all set."
"The client had to fail to relay the message. This cannot be changed."
"It's not a death node. There are no natural disasters happening. What would be so bad about delivering a simple message?"
Lu Guang seems to chew on the data he's seen in the photo already with how to explain it. Cheng Xiaoshi can't figure out why they can't just take it. what does it matter if they— "It is. Someone dies because they weren't given that information in time. We can't change this."
Cheng Xiaoshi's jaw tenses so hard he can hardly breathe. He would fear for his own teeth if he didn't know quite intimately how Qiao Ling had tricked him into drinking so much milk when they were kids. But this doesn't stop the frustration that bubbles over the very nature of the job. He wants to fight for it. At the very least try to find a compromise for this.
But when he feels a hand touch his left shoulder, he finds that Qiao Ling had gone and Lu Guang's holding out a box of tissues.
His eyes blur, and he blinks away the tears that pool. Cheng Xiaoshi does not accept the tissues, nor does he accept Lu Guang's comfort. He's not even sure why he's crying exactly.
"I'm heading to bed," he rasps and forces himself to his feet.
He'll find something else to do—another job. It'll distract him from the almost-dive and curb his guilt for the lost income.
The guilt over mourning the lost income eats at him enough to actually go to sleep hours later. He'll figure something else out.
It's a little unfair, he feels, as he points his camera at the couple. He's taking pre-wedding photos, and they couldn't be happier. Cheng Xiaoshi wishes he had this level of care-freeness to his days. He wants to be secure in the knowledge that he was worthy of the care his lover gives him and to stay above all else.
They asked him if he could photograph their wedding, too. He couldn't afford to say no. Even though he's pretty sure he has another booking the day before it. He'll have to check again, but he already agreed to it, so what did it matter?
Cheng Xiaoshi flashes the couple a warm, professional smile, and politely declines their offer for tea. They part ways after a job well done. He'll get these edited and developed by the day's end, then he'll finish up another client's negatives before bed.
As he's heading home by train, Cheng Xiaoshi lets the exhaustion swallow him—just a little. Feeling the weight of his own arms with such clarity is disorienting and somewhat concerning, but he'll get through it.
His phone buzzes in his pocket. It takes a moment for him to realize what that means and why he could definitely answer it right away. It might be Qiao Ling or Lu Guang or—honestly, that's all. He doesn't have parents waiting for him, neither does he have cousins and other extended family. It's just… he's so tired.
Cheng Xiaoshi lets himself be alone for a while longer.
He can stare at the motion blur outside the glass plane and pretend that time is really moving faster than light; that it'll all be over before he even says a word.
Once the train gets to his stop, he steps out and takes a deep breath. His phone chimed twice more since the first one. Turns out the only two people left in the world that care about him texted him.
Qiao Ling:
Are you on a job? I thought you didn't have one until tomorrow?
Lu Guang:
Did you eat before going to the shoot?
The kitchen looks untouched. I'll make something so get home soon.
Now the weight of his own phone is heavy. He nearly drops it with how loose his own grip on himself is. There's nothing wrong with working. The old ladies would call him hardworking and diligent. He's not any closer to paying off his debt, even if he's going faster than usual these past few months.
It's over a decade's worth to get through. It's kindness and cruelty mixed in one.
Cheng Xiaoshi puts one foot in front of the other. He breathes in the evening air like it's the last time he'll ever get to. Then he collapses on the street, mere blocks away from the studio.
The smell of medicine and antiseptic hits him first. It's rather unpleasant, even without any traumatic childhood events tied to it.
Cheng Xiaoshi debates opening his eyes. He's awake enough to be aware, but he's reluctant about officially waking up and making himself known to the world at large. He's not sure why he's in a hospital to begin with.
"I think you're awake," Lu Guang says from somewhere to his immediately left. "Your breathing is less even. You're awake now."
Cheng Xiaoshi forgoes any plans and tilts his head to the left, blinking away the exhaustion that weighs down his eyelids. "Yeah?" His voice is rasp, as dry as the Sahara. "So can you tell me why I'm here?"
He does a quick check of all his limbs and stomach. Nothing seems to be missing, and he's pretty sure he'd remember having been physically injured in any way. Those classes with master Siwan were quite memorable—and painful—on his hands.
Continuing to watch Lu Guang with a slight glaze to his vision, he cannot conjure up the energy to be annoyed. Though, he does acknowledge how this little visit will undoubtedly affect his debt payments. Any income he gets go to making debt payments these days, no exceptions.
"I want to yell at you. Qiao Ling wants to yell at you."
Yeah, so what's new?
"But we want you to stop killing yourself more."
"I'm not killing myself. What are you talking about?"
"Qiao Ling found you passed out on the street when she came to have dinner with us. The doctors say you were severely exhausted, dehydrated, and low in blood sugar."
"I've been drinking water, no alcohol, and eating. You saw me eat—" Cheng Xiaoshi doesn't know what day it is. "On Thursday," he finally decides, though it comes out a bit like a question to his dismay.
"It's Sunday, Cheng Xiaoshi." Lu Guang sounds close to snapping, as he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. "That's even more concerning."
The door quietly slides open, revealing Qiao Ling with three take-out containers of what smells like dim sum. Her eyes widen as they meet Cheng Xiaoshi's. The next thing he knows, he has a crying Qiao Ling lightly hitting and hugging him simultaneously.
"I can't believe you! Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you ask for help? Are you too proud to, huh? What do you think being family means?"
He sighs, something bone-deep. "I'm just working, Qiao Ling. What's so bad about that?"
"It's bad when you work yourself to death!"
This is all starting to feel like deja vu, he must admit. But he doesn't have anything to say to this, not when his earlier defense didn't even work on Lu Guang.
"We found your second bank book," Lu Guang says. "We thought it was just savings at first, but then we found your letter alongside it."
"'Please accept this as the remainder of my debt to you—thank you for everything'?" Qiao Ling recites the familiar words, voice rising with each word. She hits him on the chest this time. Cheng Xiaoshi refuses to look at her tear-streaked face. "Were you planning on leaving this earth before or after this?"
"After," he snaps. "Of course after. I don't want to leave behind my debt to Lu Guang or have you suffer—"
"We would've suffered without you!" she screams at him. "I understand that this is hanging over your head, but you can still live, Cheng Xiaoshi. Use some of this to eat, to go out, to buy clothes or something; anything! Your life isn't just to suffer."
"I—"
"The shop is closed for the next two weeks. We're going on a short trip when you get discharged."
"He's exhausted, Lu Guang. He can't go on any trips."
"Cheng Xiaoshi gets energy from socializing, from actually eating, and having things to look forward to."
Qiao Ling seems to chew on that while Cheng Xiaoshi just closes his eyes and pretends to fall asleep. He doesn't want to go anywhere. He still has those photos to edit and develop. They're not going to finish themselves.
He lets their discussion or argument or whatever occupy the empty space of this hospital room, and he forces himself to go to sleep.