Finding Home

Chengyu's heart thrummed with a mix of anxiety and triumph as he clutched the weighty purse, its contents earned through tenacious endeavors and careful planning. He hastened through the bustling streets of the town, his footsteps quick and purposeful, until he reached the modest dwelling that Hua had coveted, standing in the shadow of Xiuqin's elegant residence.

"Chengyu!" Hua exclaimed, his eyes widening at the sight of the jingling purse. "Is it truly time?"

"You know it," Chengyu replied, his voice laced with a quiet pride. Approaching the man, he threw his arm around his shoulder, quickly shaking and releasing him with a final pat on the arm. "Now, let's go secure your future."

As Chengyu handed over the coins, Hua's joy burst forth like a dam unleashed. With a startling strength, Hua scooped Chengyu into his arms, spinning him around in a dizzying whirl. The world became a blur of colors and sounds, and Chengyu couldn't help but laugh, the sound bright amidst the clamor of the marketplace.

"Put me down, you idiot!" Chengyu gasped between fits of laughter, though his heart sang with shared elation.

"Never!" Hua bellowed, his feet prancing in an impromptu dance of glee. "Today I claim my own corner of the world, and it's all due to you! I could not have asked for a better friend!"

He spun Chengyu until he was unable to hold his head upright and it felt like he'd puke. Once their merriment settled, Chengyu took another moment for his stomach to settle, hunching over with his forehead a fist resting against a building while the other rested on his knee. Only when he was certain he wouldn't throw up, he turned to the practicalities. Inside the notary's office, Chengyu leaned over Hua's broad shoulder, guiding his hand as they signed the necessary papers. The ink smelled sharp, a scent of finality and new beginnings.

"Here," Chengyu murmured, pointing to each line where Hua's name should mark the transition of ownership. "And here."

Hua's signature was unsteady, betraying his underlying nervous excitement. When the last document was signed, Hua looked up at Chengyu with a grin that could have illuminated the bottom of a ravine.

Clearing his throat, Chengyu looked away. "Let's see our conquest," he suggested, and together they crossed the threshold of Hua's newfound domain.

The space was humble, walls bearing the echoes of past lives, floors whispering tales of bygone footsteps. Chengyu's eyes scanned the rooms with a critical gaze, noting the places where time and neglect had left their marks.

"Needs a bit of care," Chengyu observed, running his fingers along a crack in the wall, dust motes dancing in the sunbeam that caught them. "But it's nothing we can't handle."

"We?"

Chengyu remained silent, unhappy about accidentally volunteering his labor. He was already undertaking enough arduous projects. "I... I guess. You might need my help," he reluctantly said.

"Of course," Hua agreed, his optimism undiminished. "You have an eye for these things, Chengyu."

They ventured upstairs, and Hua pressed his face against the cool glass of the second-floor window. His gaze wandered across the way, to where Xiuqin's courtyard lay serene and inviting, framed by the delicate blossoms of an apricot tree.

"From here, I could watch the seasons change in her garden," Hua said wistfully, "and spy on you stealing naps beneath Xiuqin's apricot tree."

"Ha! As if I'd allow you such a scandalous privilege," Chengyu chuckled, though a part of him relished the thought of Hua's watchful eyes, keeping silent vigil over his rare moments of repose.

"Come," Chengyu urged, his mind already plotting their next move. "I had a few men from the village drag some furniture I picked up."

Rushing outside, Hua leapt out of the door and into the street, where he was nearly victimized by an ox cart. The driver swerved, narrowly avoiding him. After a briefly argument, he finally calmed.

With both parties settled, Chengyu intervened, climbing into the back to pass down furniture. It was an eclectic mish-mash of articles, all second hand. Hua didn't seem to mind and eagerly ferried everything inside.

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in a gradient of twilight hues as Chengyu and Hua stood back to admire their handiwork. They had only loaded everything into the common area, but Hua had a makeshift bed, a hammock, strung between two posts in the corner. Upon second review, the place was ridiculously large for a single inhabitant.

The room, though small, was cozy—a haven crafted by their joint efforts throughout the day. A second-hand table with carefully polished wood surface now occupied the center space, flanked by two mismatched chairs with torn cushions that somehow seemed to belong together.

Wiping sweat from his brow, Chengyu lifted his arms over his head and yawned. A dull ache had taken home in his lower back and thighs. Prepared to head to his own home and collapse, he turned around, searching for his friend. However, he quickly gave up after a cursory glance and moved to the door.

With a final glance around, he completed his search. "I'll leave you to settle."

"Stay the night, won't you?" Hua's voice cut through the silence, hopeful yet laden with fatigue. His frazzled mop of hair stuck out from over the edge of the hammock. "I've only got the one bed, but you can sleep on the floor... Please, I don't want to spend my first night alone."

Chengyu shook his head, a tired smile on his lips. Nevertheless, he stepped back inside and shut the door.

"I wouldn't want to impose," he replied, sinking slowly to sit on the floor, the weight of his exhaustion pulling him down. "Besides, I have my own place to return to."

"An imposition?" Hua chuckled, settling cross-legged opposite Chengyu. "After all this, you speak of imposition?"

"Well, I guess I can stay a little while longer. After all, it isn't as if you've got much to impose on."

"It's my first time living alone, mind you."

They talked then, voices low and comfortable amidst the creaks and sighs of the settling house. Conversations wandered from trivial anecdotes to heartfelt confessions, weaving the tapestry of their friendship tighter with each spoken word.

As the night deepened, Chengyu's eyelids grew heavy, his words fewer, until at last, they ceased altogether. His head lolled to the side, the cool touch of the wooden floor beneath him a welcome respite. In the quiet cocoon of the house, sleep claimed him, his last conscious thought a muted appreciation for the warmth of companionship.

Hua watched over him for a moment, a contented smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he observed the gentle rise and fall of Chengyu's chest. With care born of a bond newly forged, he rose and bent to lift Chengyu in his arms, surprised at the lightness of the burden. He laid him upon the bed, tucking the blanket around him.

"Rest well, my friend," Hua whispered, retreating to the floor. He leaned against the bed, the soft hum of Chengyu's breath a lullaby that coaxed his own eyes shut. His thoughts lingered on the serendipity of their meeting, the unexpected gift of finding someone who understood him without pretense.