Archive of Our Own

A yao cursed with a lifespan of centuries, and a human cursed with one that ends in the blink of an eye—what a terrible fate.

The will of heaven really is too cruel.

And yet, this story as old as time plays out once again before Hongjun’s eyes.

In a city of thirteen million people, trying to find Li Jinglong is like looking for a needle in a haystack. Still, the bond between them transcends time and space; even if Li Jinglong forgets Hongjun every time he reincarnates, Hongjun will never forget him. After so many thousands of years, so many versions of Li Jinglong, Hongjun thinks he knows the man more than he knows himself—the rhythm of Li Jinglong's breath, his heartbeat, his vocal cadence and tone, even the way he walks—even if he went mad, Hongjun would still remember those little things that had etched themselves into his mind over the ages.

As he walks along the street, people stare at him. After all, even with the advent of public cosplay, it is still strange to see a man dressed in exotic-looking green and white clothes with golden accents.

Hongjun also thinks that his naturally-pink hair isn't helping, either.

Of course, he’s considered wearing ‘normal’ clothes, but he’s already been dressing this way for so long that he sees no reason to change now.

Besides, what if Li Jinglong doesn't recognize him otherwise?

In the far distance, the Wild Goose Pagoda scrapes the overcast sky, filling Hongjun’s heart with a painful nostalgia.

The weather had been like this back then, too—the last time he’d embraced Li Jinglong.

At that time, curled brown leaves rattled on the trees outside like an old woman’s gnarled fingers. The late fall wind wailed against the glass windowpane, making the old house creak. On the table was a newspaper showing a black-and-white photo of two men’s decapitated heads propped up by bricks, blood splattered on their faces. The newspaper was warped from a water spill, and a vase of wilted flowers covered up most of the headline.

Hongjun walked into the room carrying a tray, a solemn expression on his face. He knelt down beside the large and ornate bed, pushing open the gauzy curtain.

Lying beneath the blankets was his beloved—Li Jinglong—his face creased with the wrinkles of old age and dotted with liver spots. His dark brown hair had now become almost completely white, and those deep amber eyes that Hongjun so loved gazing into for much of his life are now a foggy gray.

“I brought you your medicine,” Hongjun said. He carefully pulled back the blanket and helped Li Jinglong sit up.

“Ah, thank you…darling, I—” a fit of coughs cut off Li Jinglong’s voice. He doubled over, clutching his chest.

Worry creased Hongjun’s brow, but all he could do was rub Li Jinglong’s back and hold him.

Li Jinglong smiled, his lips trembling. Despite no longer being able to see, he still glanced in Hongjun’s direction. “I’m not long for this world…” he sighed softly. “I’ve had a good life; it’s already been over one hundred years…I’m blessed to have met you.”

Tears stung the reddened rims of Hongjun’s eyes. “You…husband, don’t say that.”

Li Jinglong laughed weakly. “You and I both already know it…I’m only human, and you’re a yao.”

“I’m half human.”

“Mn, but your lifespan is still thousands of years…compared to you, mine must seem like it passed in the blink of an eye…”

“Don’t say that.” Hongjun swallowed back a sob. “Come on, take your medicine.”

Li Jinglong nodded. His thin and bony trembling hand grasped Hongjun’s wrist as Hongjun held the medicine bowl up to Li Jinglong’s cracked, chapped lips.

Hongjun knew how much Li Jinglong hated bitter medicine, so after he was sure his husband had swallowed it all, he lowered his head and pressed a kiss to his lips, a tear falling onto Li Jinglong’s cheek, the feeling of which made Li Jinglong frown.

“Dearest, don’t cry…”

“How can I not…? I…even though you’ve already died so many times, it still doesn't hurt any less…”

“I know. I’m sorry…”

Hongjun helped Li Jinglong lie back down. “Aiya, what are you sorry for? It’s not your fault you were born as a human.”

“Mn, some people are simply fated to be unlucky,” Li Jinglong joked. “Still, I…” the point of Li Jinglong’s throat bobbed. “I’ve made you suffer…I don’t understand…why…in every life, why do you still choose me? Why don’t you go find another yao man who you can stay with for the rest of your life; who won’t leave you behind again and again…you don't deserve this heartache…”

A wheezing, broken sob fell from Hongjun’s mouth. He leans over the side of the bed, tears falling freely onto the blanket. “How could you say that…? I don't want someone else, I want you.” He grasped Li Jinglong’s frail hand and held it against his chest. “I don't care how much it hurts…the heartache doesn't matter; just getting to be with you for a hundred or so years is enough. Not only that, but I’ll find you again in your next life. Even if I have to wait a hundred years for you to reincarnate, that’s also fine…”

At that point, Li Jinglong was also crying, his chest heaving. His fingers curled, gripping the soft fabric of Hongjun’s shirt. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I know I won't recognize you in my next life, but…my heart will always belong to you, husband.”

Sobs wracked Hongjun’s body. As he clung to Li Jinglong’s hand, he raised it to his lips and kissed the knuckles. “I know. I’ll wait for you.”

“I can't wait to fall in love with you all over again.” After those words left Li Jinglong’s lips, he started coughing again, holding a curled fist up in front of his mouth.

“Just rest, don’t talk anymore.”

Hongjun knew the end was already here; he could see the light in Li Jinglong’s eyes flickering, like a flame about to be extinguished by the wind. Holding his husband’s shaking hand, he pressed his cheek against it.

“Husband…” Li Jinglong’s voice crackled.

“Shhh. I’m here. I won’t leave.”

The brokenness in Hongjun’s voice made Li Jinglong’s heart ache, but there was nothing he could do. “I’m sorry…” he weakly lifted his hand and caressed Hongjun’s soft, tear-stained cheek. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Hongjun nodded. “And I’ll find you, just like I always do.”

That had been in the very last days of the Qing Dynasty. Over a hundred years have already passed…

Could it be…?

Has Li Jinglong’s soul finally left the cycle of reincarnation?

Hongjun shakes his head as if to dislodge the thought. He turns down a side street and spots a small building with a neon sign above the doorway that reads “Mingxian Internet Cafe”.

He hesitates outside the door for a moment. Even though he’s been alive for so long, there are still many parts of the human world he doesn't understand. After all, he only came back for Li Jinglong’s sake. If it weren't for him, Hongjun would only concern himself with humans when it came to things like exorcizing demons that put them at risk. Otherwise, he and the rest of yao-kind tend to keep to themselves.

Still, Hongjun walks inside and goes up to the man behind the counter. He pays to use a computer and sits down. Most of the people there have headphones on and aren't paying much attention to Hongjun, even with his strange clothes and unnatural hair color.

With trembling hands, he logs onto the computer and searches up Li Jinglong’s name. He finds quite a few people with the same name and realizes that perhaps he’s bitten off more than he can chew by searching online. Not to be deterred, Hongjun sifts through countless high school yearbooks, graduation and employment records, and even obituaries until his back aches from hunching over for so long.

He sighs. “Just one more, then I’ll leave for the day…it’s already late.”

When the page loads, Hongjun is met with a photo from a high school yearbook. Above the highlighted name ‘Li Jinglong’ is a face that makes Hongjun’s heart skip a beat.

His Li Jinglong. Even though he looks slightly different from last time Hongjun had seen him, he still recognizes his beloved in an instant. Li Jinglong’s thick and dark sword brows accenting alluring, amber-colored phoenix eyes. His nose is long and straight, full pink lips pulled into a smile.

Hongjun has to refrain from reaching out to caress the screen, his heart fluttering in his chest. He saves the photo to his USB Drive and leaves the internet cafe, already having memorized the name of the high school Li Jinglong had gone to.

In that picture, Li Jinglong was seventeen, meaning he was probably at least in his twenties now.

Is he in college now, or did he already graduate? Did he even go, or did he drop out?

So many questions with no answers…

Unfortunately, the sun is already going down, painting the heavy clouds hanging in the sky in various shades of red, pink, orange, yellow, and purple. The golden sun pierces through an empty section of clouds, making Hongjun’s breath catch in his throat.

It’s truly beautiful, but…

He sighs softly, wishing Li Jinglong were by his side.

At least he has a lead now, after so many years of searching…

Hongjun wakes up early the next morning, feasting on a breakfast of youtiao, sweetened soy milk, and Western-style pastries.

Once he finishes, he leaves his apartment and goes to the train station to head to Li Jinglong’s high school.

Hongjun enters the high school along with the students, many of whom shoot him awkward glances as he casually strolls into the building. As he’s standing in the hall and looking around, trying to find the office of this or that administrator, he’s stopped by a security guard.

“Who are you?”

“Kong Hongjun.”

The guard narrows his eyes. “What are you doing here? You obviously aren't a student.”

“My…friend used to go to this school. He graduated in 2017, but I haven't seen him in a bit. I’m looking for him.”

“You said he already graduated? Why are you here, then? Get out, or else I’ll call the police!”

Hongjun frowns. “I’m not looking for trouble; I just want to know where he is now. We haven't seen each other in many years.”

“Did you go to this school? What’s with your clothes…? Is this some kind of costume?”

“No, these are just my clothes. I didn't go to this school, but I was…close with him. We haven't spoken in years, and I want to reconnect. His name is Li Jinglong.”

The security guard shrugs. “Doesn't ring a bell. ‘Li’ is such a common family name anyways, who even knows where he may have gone. Either way, you need to leave.”

“What?! Why are you being so rude? I just want to talk to someone who can help me find my be—dear friend.”

“Why don't you just call him?”

“I don't have his phone number. I haven't seen him since…” Hongjun pauses. He can’t just tell this person that he hasn't seen Li Jinglong since the collapse of the Qing Dynasty. “For a while. We went to different high schools.”

The security guard grabs Hongjun’s arm, squeezing it. “I don't care, I already told you to leave, so beat it!”

Hongjun sighs. For a moment, the thought of temporarily knocking the man unconscious crosses his mind, but he’d rather not become a wanted criminal any time soon.

“Alright, I’ll leave then.” He turns on his heel and reluctantly walks out of the high school, stopping at the gate to look back.

Hongjun presses his hand to his chest. “Jinglong…”

Even with the Heart Lamp bound to Li Jinglong’s soul like a tether that extends through the boundless sea of time and space, Hongjun can only narrow down his beloved’s location to a distance of around one hundred miles or so.

“I won’t give up…not until I can finally see your face again…”

At least he can take a tiny bit of comfort in the fact that it’s not too late—Li Jinglong is still in the prime of his life, and even if it takes him ten or twenty years to fall in love, at least they’ll get a decent amount of time together.

It’ll be enough…

But that’s a lie. It’s never enough. Even when Hongjun cherishes every moment, even when he finds pleasure in merely being beside Li Jinglong, it’s not enough.

He wonders if satisfaction can only come after death—once his body returns to the dust from which it was created, and once his soul returns to the universe, where he and Li Jinglong can be intertwined for the rest of eternity.

Will he reincarnate again without me…?

The thought sends a sharp pang of pain through Hongjun’s heart.

But…I’m half-human, so maybe I’ll also reincarnate, too. Maybe I’ll be his classmate, or maybe I’ll be the boy next door…maybe we’ll be coworkers, or maybe we’ll meet in a chance encounter…

All those wistful thoughts slip through his fingers like sand. In the end, all Hongjun can do is resign himself to keep looking. He returns to Mingxian Internet Cafe yet again and digs through the website of every college within a one hundred-mile radius of him but turns up nothing.

Did he not go to college…? Or maybe he just didn't make the college news…people have always underestimated him…

Little by little, aggrievement floods his chest like cold rainwater. Every search only leads to a dead end.

He only finishes once the sun has already gone down. Dissatisfied yet again, Hongjun drags his stiff and aching body out of the chair and leaves the internet cafe, rubbing at his sore neck.

As he walks back to his apartment, he can't help but glance at the little shop that’s right across from it. Hanging inside the window is a sign that says ‘Coming Soon: Zhan Ye Tea Shop!’. The opening date printed underneath is this Saturday, two days from now.

For some reason, Hongjun stops in front of it. He presses his hand against the glass and peers inside. The outline of the tables and chairs are just barely visible from the streetlights’ ambience. There’s a pile of boxes near the front counter, and someone had left a broom propped up against the right wall.

“It’ll be convenient to have a place like this right across from my apartment building…” he murmurs to himself, peeling himself away from the small building just as fat, raindrops begin to fall sparsely from the sky.

The next day, Hongjun stops by a local cafe and orders a boba tea and an entire strawberry roll cake. He eagerly devours the whole thing and takes the boba with him as he walks to the train station. He plops down onto the hard and uncomfortable bench, scanning the crowd for Li Jinglong’s familiar, handsome face.

Time stretches out before him; a long, winding, and empty road. With every person that passes by who isn't his beloved, Hongjun sinks deeper into his own uncertainty.

Will I ever even find him? So many years and I still have no leads…this Li Jinglong really is too slippery…

He takes a long sip of his boba, long since watered-down from the ice having melted.

A few people glance at Hongjun when they pass by, probably due to his unusual appearance, but he doesn't think anything of it.

Even when Hongjun’s legs become numb from sitting for so long, he doesn't leave—instead, he just repositions himself, brown eyes fixed on the people who are both standing on the platform and waiting as well as the ones who exit once the doors open.

Every man who looks even a little like Li Jinglong makes Hongjun’s heart skip a beat upon seeing them, but every time, he’s disappointed, let down again and again.

A man with a familiar face gets off the train. Hongjun’s back straightens, his round eyes sparkling. He watches intently as the man walks towards him, a surgical mask concealing half his face.

The man stops and pulls out his cell phone, looking down at it. He then glances around the train station before his eyes come to rest on someone behind Hongjun.

From his point of view, however, it appears as though the man is looking at him. There are no sparks when their eyes meet, but Hongjun dismisses it. He stands up and, trying to seem as casual as possible, walks over to the man.

“Sorry to disturb you, but just now, I noticed you looking around. Are you lost?”

“Huh? Who are you?”

“Kong Hongjun. Does the name ring any bells?”

The man scratches his head. “No…?”

“That’s okay. Anyways, are you lost? I…happen to come to this train station every day,” he lies, “so I know my way around. I can help you find your exit.”

“Can you leave? I’m not lost, I’m meeting up with my girlfriend.”

Those words turn the blood in Hongjun’s veins to ice. “Wh…what?”

“What do you mean ‘what’? You’re weird; what’s so strange about a guy meeting his girlfriend? Anyways, leave me alone.” The man shoulders past Hongjun and walks through the crowd.

Despite being momentarily frozen in shock, Hongjun regains his composure and follows after the man. Once he gets to the top of the staircase, Hongjun again tries to approach the man, stopping once he sees the man leaning against a wall, talking to a brown-haired girl who’s laughing.

No way…it can't be possible…

In every lifetime, Li Jinglong loved only him…

Did I come too late…?

Had Yue Lao made a mistake…?

Pain radiates through Hongjun’s chest, but he can't pull his eyes away from the man who looks just like Li Jinglong.

When the man pulls down his mask as he leans in to kiss his girlfriend, Hongjun breathes a sigh of relief. Not only does he have facial hair, but his nose and lips are completely different from Li Jinglong’s.

But…

This also means he isn't any closer, either.

Hongjun descends the stairs and sits on his bench again. Announcement after announcement comes over the grainy loudspeakers, and Hongjun stays until well past midnight. At this point, he’s so exhausted he can hardly keep his eyes open, but he tells himself he has to keep going, lest he miss Li Jinglong.

Unfortunately, he ends up drifting off.

“Wake up.”

…

“Hey, you, get up! Wake up, you aren't allowed to sleep here!”

“Guh…” Hongjun groans as he sits up, wincing at the pain in his back. The moment he tries to open his eyes, they're assaulted by a bright, white light.

On instinct, Hongjun lifts his arm to cover his eyes. “Ow, hey…!”

A rough hand grabs his arm. “You can't be here. Get up; you have to leave.”

“Eh…? Why?”

“Nobody’s allowed to sleep in the train station. You can come back tomorrow. Sorry, these are the rules. Please leave now.”

“Alright, I’ll leave…” Hongjun mutters. He stands up, joints popping. “Mnh, owww…guess I’m not as young as I used to be,” he laughs awkwardly. The security guard, who’s still shining the flashlight in his face, gives him a strange glance. Hongjun doesn't say anything else, he simply leaves.

A heavy curtain of darkness hangs over the city. The sky is ink-black, and a gentle, cool breeze tousles Hongjun’s hair.

“Jinglong, where are you…?” He murmurs as though hoping the wind will carry his words to the ears of his beloved.

The next day, Hongjun sleeps in late. He wakes up and walks to an eatery that’s small and out-of-the-way; the sort of place that the crowds of tourists who fill the streets of Xi’an don’t know about. After a breakfast of various danishes and a stack of shortbread cookies with biluochun, he returns to Mingxian Internet Cafe for a third time.

Li Jinglong’s Weibo account is newly updated—at the top is a post with today’s date—uploaded mere hours ago.

today is opening day at my new job…everyone please pray for me because I’ll need it lol

A torrent of emotions washes over Hongjun.

Opening day…?

He reads the post again once, then a second time, and then a third. For good measure, Hongjun even rubs his eyes with a pair of balled fists and then pinches the exposed skin of his arm.

“Guess I’m not dreaming after all…”

For some reason, the words ‘opening day’ take him back to the little tea shop across the street from his apartment. He stumbles as he runs out of the internet cafe, nearly forgetting to pay.

Outside the store, people are already lined up on the sidewalk. There are even a few who’d brought folding chairs with them.

Hongjun rushes over and forces his way through the line, peering through the window.

“Hey, what are you doing?! You can’t cut in line!” A hand grips Hongjun’s shoulder. His eyes desperately search the inside of the cafe.

A door in the back opens, and out walks a tall, handsome man with dark hair, thick eyebrows, and willow-leaf eyes.

A shudder races down Hongjun’s spine. The love and tenderness he and Li Jinglong had shared over the span of thousands of years all rushes back to him; crashing over Hongjun in a wave. Tears roll down his cheeks, and deep in his chest there’s a faint, resonant buzzing—the Heart Lamp.

Li Jinglong pauses and glances towards the window, still holding a box of tea.

What is this…?

When his eyes meet those of the man outside, a vague sense of deja vu seizes his brain.

Who is that? Why do I feel like I know him…maybe I’ll ask when he comes in…

“Jinglong…”

“Hey! Are you listening to me?!” Someone roughly grabs Hongjun’s arm, making him wince.

Hongjun whips around, brows furrowed. “What?!”

“You can’t cut in line! I was here first; I’ve been waiting since this morning!”

“I’m not—” Hongjun pauses and squeezes his eyes shut, sighing. “It’s fine,” he mutters, making his way to the back of the line.

Everyone in the line watches with bated breath as a man walks up to the glass door and unlocks it, opening the door. He pokes his head out and smiles. “Wow, so many people! Thank you for waiting; I apologize for the delayed opening. Anyways, please come in.”

The line of people slowly disappears inside the small shop. Eventually, it’s Hongjun’s turn; it’s already packed by the time he gets inside.

Slowly, he walks up to the counter. The moment his eyes meet Li Jinglong, an ocean of memories comes rushing back to him. Hongjun sees every time he’d met Li Jinglong after he reincarnated, every time they’d kissed, their every first date, all the times they’d passionately made love.

The rims of Hongjun’s eyes turn red. “Ah…”

Li Jinglong’s eyes narrow, brows furrowing. Despite a slight change in appearance, Li Jinglong still purses his lips a little when thinking about something, the sight of which makes Hongjun want to lean in and kiss him.

“Do I know you…? Your face looks familiar.”

“I get that a lot. I feel like I know you from somewhere, too.”

Li Jinglong smiles. “So what are you? Like some type of…cosplayer or something?”

“Nope. I get that a lot, but this is just how I look,” Hongjun laughs sheepishly.

“Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to insult you.”

An older-looking man appears from the back room, folding his arms across his chest and shooting Li Jinglong a disapproving glare. “Jinglong! Less talking, more working!”

“Right, sorry,” he mutters, looking back at Hongjun. “What can I get for you?”

Hongjun casts a quick glance at the menu board on the wall behind Li Jinglong. Despite not looking at him, Hongjun still feels Li Jinglong’s warm gaze soaking into him like sunlight on a summer’s day.

“Um…one pot of Baimudan, please. And one—actually, two servings of sweet douhua.”

“Sure. What’s the name for the order?”

“Kong Hongjun. It’s the ‘Kong’ from Confucius¹, the ‘hong’ from the idiom ‘light as a goose feather’², and the ‘jun’ from ‘extremely gifted’³.” He takes out his wallet and places a few crinkled bills on the counter.

“Kong Hongjun…?” Li Jinglong repeats, saying it slowly, taking in the way it feels in his mouth. He picks up the money and counts it once, then twice, then a third time, unable to focus. When he hands Hongjun his cash, he expects him to say that it’s wrong, that Li Jinglong miscounted, but he doesn't.

He just smiles and nods, thanking him.

This is…

He looks at Hongjun again. There’s a hazy, swirling, vague feeling of recognition, of recollection. In the back of Li Jinglong’s mind, there’s the ghost of a memory. When he reaches out and tries to grab it, it slips through his fingers like sand.

Li Jinglong sighs and shakes his head. “Sorry, um…I’ll get started on your order right now.”

“It’s alright, take your time.” Hongjun looks at Li Jinglong one last time before going to sit down at one of the tables. He stares absentmindedly out the window, watching cars and buses drive past on the street, pedestrians walking here and there; vendors selling street food and children running between the legs of adults.

A soft sigh falls from Hongjun’s lips, his cheek pressed into his palm and his elbow propped up on the table.

“Is something wrong?”

That gentle voice fills Hongjun’s body with warmth. He turns around to see Li Jinglong standing beside his table, smiling warmly. He’s holding a tray, on which is a pot of tea, some teacups, and two white bowls of douhua with brown sugar on top.

“Oh, no, just…” Hongjun forces a smile. “It’s nothing.” He reaches out to take the tray from Li Jinglong, and when he does, his soft fingertips brush against Li Jinglong’s. The sensation makes Li Jinglong want to pull away, to save himself some face—but he can’t, not when he’s holding a tray full of hot tea and porcelain.

Hongjun places the tray down on the table and pulls it towards himself, his cheeks flushed. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Pouring himself a cup of hot tea, Hongjun holds it for a moment and blows away the steam billowing off of it, staring down at his own reflection in the softly-rippling surface.

I need to ask him…

He picks up his spoon and digs into the soft, milky white douhua. It’s creamy and sweet—but not too sweet, satisfying Hongjun’s sweet tooth just right.

After taking a few bites of the first bowl, he picks up the tea and sips it slowly. The flowery aroma floods his nose, a gentle sweetness filling his mouth. Its warmth goes right to his stomach, which in turn makes Hongjun’s eyelids a bit heavy.

He finishes up the first bowl of douhua before starting on the second, already having drunk half the pot of tea.

Once the second bowl is empty, there’s only the dregs of tea left in the bottom of the pot. Hongjun stacks his bowls and cup on the tray and walks back to the counter. Li Jinglong is there sweeping up.

“Mr. Li, did you happen to have a pen?”

Li Jinglong freezes, his head shooting up. “How’d you know my family name?”

“Your nametag.”

Wide-eyed, Li Jinglong looks down at his chest. “Oh, right…” he props the broom up against the back counter and comes over, handing Hongjun a pen from the counter.

Hongjun thanks him and leans down, scribbling his phone number onto the corner of a napkin. He pulls it out from its place under one of the empty douhua bowls and hands it to Li Jinglong.

“Sorry, I know it’s probably your first day, but…you’re good-looking, and you were also kind to me. If you don't want to go out, or you aren't into men, just forget I asked.”

With shaking hands, Li Jinglong takes the napkin. He shakes his head and gingerly tucks it into his pants pocket. “No, no, I…I do want to go out. I know we just met, but…somehow, it feels like I’ve known you for a long time. I’ll text you after work and we can figure out a time to meet up, alright?”

A bright smile spreads across Hongjun’s handsome yet still-youthful face. “Alright.”