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It had become part of their days without anyone formally deciding it had.
At some point after breakfast, once the sunlight had shifted enough to warm the floor, the cushions were pushed aside and the rugs cleared. Sleeves were tied back, hair hastily adjusted, toys nudged out of the way with feet. The twins were placed down between them with the quiet understanding that this was the hour for trying new things.
Today was one of the days Yuexin had decided walking was worth the effort.
She stood with only the briefest hesitation, wobbling upright with a triumphant little sound, arms lifted wide for balance as if she expected applause, and of course, she received it immediately.
Xie Lian clapped, laughing openly as he leaned forward.
“There you are! Look at you!”
Banyue echoed him at once, patting the floor, her voice bright and excited.
“A-Xin! Come to me! Come to me!"
They beckoned together, half-singing Yuexin’s name, their encouragement overlapping in a jumble that barely resembled words. Yuexin of course did not understand any of it, she only knew the sounds; Mama’s voice, warm and bright. Jiejie’s voice, sharp with excitement- familiar, beloved noise calling her forward.
Her lips split into a delighted shriek and she clapped her hands hard enough that they missed each other, nearly losing her balance in the process. She corrected with a wobble that made her giggle, her knees bending too much, her feet landing where they pleased. She took a step, then another, thrilled by the way the floor moved beneath her and the way the cheers grew louder each time she managed it.
She stopped halfway just to clap again, squealing, arms windmilling wildly as she explored this new, fascinating skill with complete abandon. Then she lurched forward once more, propelled less by intention than by joy, carried by familiar voices and the certainty that she was being watched, praised and adored.
One of Hua Cheng’s butterflies hovered near her nose, urging her forward though she hardly needed it.
“So confident already.” Hua Cheng said fondly watching with pride as she toddled around.
Xie Lian caught her as she tipped forward, laughing outright as he steadied her, hands firm at her sides.
“You did it!” he said brightly, voice bubbling over. “How can you be so smart?! My brave girl!”
Before she could wriggle free, he leaned in and pressed a loud kiss to her cheek, then another, then one more for good measure, the kind that landed wet and exaggerated and made her shriek again with laughter. She clapped her hands again, delighted, face scrunching as she was showered in kisses.
Banyue joined in without hesitation, crowding close to plant her own quick kisses against Yuexin’s temple, laughing breathlessly as she praised her again, and again, and again, as if repetition alone might make the moment even better.
Yuexin squealed, thoroughly overwhelmed and thrilled by the attention, feet shuffling excitedly against the rug as she tried to stand on her own again. Xie Lian let her go reluctantly, hands hovering just long enough to be sure she was steady, before setting her back down on her feet.
“Go on,” he encouraged, still smiling. “Go to baba.”
Yuexin wobbled, corrected herself, then toddled back toward Hua Cheng with reckless confidence, her arms thrown wide, laughter bubbling out of her as she went.
Yuelian watched the whole thing.
He sat tucked securely in Hua Cheng’s arms, his small body relaxed, one hand curled in dark fabric as if he had no intention of letting go. His eyes followed his sister’s movement with interest, bright and alert, but when Xie Lian turned his attention to him and held out his hands, Yuelian simply stared back at him.
“Alright,” Xie Lian said again, clapping softly, his voice bright even as his eyes searched Yuelian’s face. “Your turn.”
Banyue leaned forward beside him at once, hands outstretched.
“Come on, A-Lian,” she urged, almost singing. “Just a little.”
Yuelian responded to the sound of her voice, babbling happily, legs kicking once as he leaned forward, arms waving without aim, drawn by familiar sounds. He kicked his legs happily, and then the effort seemed to slip right out of him.
He relaxed instead.
His body softened again as he turned his face inward, one round cheek pressing into Hua Cheng’s chest, his breath evening out with a small, contented sound. One tiny hand curled into the fabric of Hua Cheng’s robes again, the other tucked close, secure and utterly unbothered by the world beyond the warmth of his father’s arms.
Banyue laughed quietly, the sound full of affection.
“Mama, He’s too lazy.
Xie Lian laughed too, but his gaze lingered, the smile on his mouth carrying something gentler underneath. He reached out, not to coax this time, just to brush his fingers lightly along Yuelian’s sleeve.
“You’re just not interested at all, are you?” he murmured, fond despite himself.
Yuelian simply shifted closer, nestling in with the unquestioning trust of someone who had never needed to doubt being held.
Hua Cheng adjusted his grip without thinking, one arm firm and protective, the other easing the angle of Yuelian’s head so he rested more comfortably. His movements were slow and unbothered. He did not try to prompt, or tease, or encourage, he simply held him close.
“He’ll walk.” Hua Cheng said quietly, stroking a gentle hand against the crown of Yuelian’s head, “‘In his own time.”
Xie Lian nodded, though his eyes stayed on the curve of Yuelian’s cheek, the way his body fit so easily there.
“I know,” he said, and then softer, “I just want him to be alright.”
Hua Cheng glanced back at him. His expression did not change, but there was a steadiness there that did not waver.
“He is,” he said simply. “He always will be.”
The words settled between them, simple and true.
Xie Lian swallowed, the moment catching unexpectedly in his chest. He looked back at Yuelian, at the ease of him, at the way Hua Cheng held him like it was the most natural thing in the world, and something warm and almost painful unfurled inside him.
This was the shape of a hope he had once been afraid to name- that his children might one day have a gentle father.
He smiled again, brighter this time, and clapped softly, turning back to Banyue and Yuexin wobbling proudly nearby.
From where he sat, Hua Cheng watched it all.
He watched the way Xie Lian’s laughter came so easily, the way he leaned into the noise and movement like it fed something deep and long-starved. He watched the way the twins responded to him instinctively, drawn by the brightness of their mother and his endless warmth.
He watched Banyue mirror him so naturally it was impossible to tell there was ever a time she was without him.
Yuelian shifted again, pressing closer into his chest, happy to stay in his baba’s arms.
Hua Cheng adjusted his hold and smiled, entirely content to remain exactly where he was, his darling boy tucked safe against him as the rest of their family laughed just a short distance away.
For now, there was nothing to change.
~~~
One of Paradise Manor’s courtyards lay open before them, broad and elegant without feeling cold, stone paths winding through careful gardens where flowers bloomed in impossible colours and leaves caught the sun like polished jade.
A wide blanket had been spread across the grass near the edge of the paving, close enough that laughter and movement carried easily between spaces.
Hua Cheng settled there with the children, unhurried. Banyue flopped down first, cross-legged and alert, already craning forward. Yuexin was placed carefully beside her, plump hands immediately reaching for anything within grasp. Yuelian slept warm and heavy against Hua Cheng’s chest, his breath slow and even, small body entirely relaxed.
Across the courtyard, Xie Lian took a sword from its resting place with familiar ease.
It was one of many, any one of which could have been a treasure beyond price, but in his hands it looked simply right. He turned it once, testing the balance, the metal catching the sun in a bright flash. When he smiled, it was wide and unguarded, the kind of expression that came only when all four of his children were nearby.
Lang Qianqiu squared his stance opposite him, earnest and focused, gripping his own blade with both hands. He looked young next to Xie Lian like this, not for lack of skill, but because Xie Lian moved with a confidence born of long memory- of joy reclaimed.
They began.
The sound of metal rang clear and bright as their blades met, the rhythm of it clean and musical. Xie Lian flowed through the forms with effortless grace, feet light against the stone, body loose and responsive. He laughed when Qianqiu overcommitted, corrected him with a gentle tap, then rewarded him with praise that carried easily across the space.
“Again,” he called, eyes shining. “You almost had me.”
Lang Qianqiu flushed, determined, pushing himself harder.
From the blanket, Banyue shrieked encouragement at full volume, utterly unrestrained. She bounced on her knees, clapping and shouting Lang Qianqiu’s name every time he managed a decent strike, her delight sharp and contagious.
Yuexin watched too, eyes wide, utterly captivated by movement and sound without really comprehending what she was seeing. She squealed whenever the swords flashed, clapped her hands at random intervals, wobbled as she shifted her weight, entirely convinced she was witnessing something magnificent.
Hua Cheng watched them all.
He watched Banyue’s fierce devotion, Yuexin’s breathless awe. He watched Lang Qianqiu’s stubborn focus. Most of all, he watched Xie Lian.
His god was radiant.
There was no other word for it. Sunlight caught in his hair, traced the lines of his movements, lit him from the inside out. He was laughter and skill and certainty, every strike precise, every correction kind.
This was the man Hua Cheng had fallen in love with, the god who had once burned bright enough to light the entire world, now standing here without restraint, without fear, alive in every sense of the word.
Hua Cheng dared not look away.
Yuelian shifted against him then, a small movement, barely more than a sigh, warmth pressing closer as sleep began to loosen its hold.
Hua Cheng adjusted his grip automatically, one hand steady at his back, eyes still fixed on the courtyard as his son began to wake, the moment stretching, full and quiet and perfect.
Yuelian stirred properly a moment later.
It began with a soft sound, breath catching unevenly as sleep loosened its hold, his body shifting with a vague, unfocused fuss; Hua Cheng felt it immediately.
He hesitated, eyes still fixed on the courtyard, reluctant to look away from the sight of Xie Lian moving through the light with such effortless joy. It took him a second longer than usual to turn his attention down.
“Hush now,” he murmured, quiet and automatic, adjusting his hold so Yuelian rested more upright against him.
The fussing faded almost at once- Yuelian as always was reliably easy to calm.
He blinked blearily, long lashes fluttering as his eyes struggled to focus. He let out a small, uncertain sound, then went still, gaze drifting past Hua Cheng’s shoulder toward the open courtyard. His body relaxed again, heavy and warm, soothed by what he saw.
Hua Cheng followed his line of sight.
Xie Lian laughed, bright and unrestrained, as Lang Qianqiu stumbled through a turn and barely managed to raise his sword in time to block another strike. The sound rang clear across the courtyard, rich with delight and utterly unguarded.
Yuelian’s whole body responded.
He wiggled, a sudden burst of happy movement that startled even him. His attention sharpened, drowsiness slipping away as he fixed on the familiar figure of his mother across the courtyard. He leaned forward instinctively, fingers opening and closing as if the distance itself offended him.
Another laugh rang out, bright and unrestrained.
Yuelian wriggled again, a soft babble spilling out of him, familiar and rhythmic, the same half-formed syllables he used for everything that pleased him. He kicked once, then again, excitement building as his gaze stayed fixed on the movement across the courtyard.
“Mama,” he babbled, breathy and unfocused, the sound tumbling out without effort. Then again, a little clearer this time, threaded through the rest of his chatter. “Mama!”
The twins had been saying it for weeks now, though Yuelian was much more reserved than his sister- what was different now was how he said it- the intent behind it.
He reached as he did, fingers stretching forward, legs wriggling with restless energy, the sound repeating between little bursts of breath.
“Mama- Mama!”
Xie Lian did not hear him.
He was still laughing with Lang Qianqiu, their sparring slowing into something easy and unguarded, their blades lowering as the moment softened.
Yuelian’s babbling grew more insistent, excitement sharpening rather than fading, his body leaning forward instinctively as if sound alone were not enough.
He kicked again, frustrated now, arms stretching forward, his small voice rising as he reached. Hua Cheng let him extend as far as he wished, watching quietly, heart tugging even as his gaze flicked back once more to Xie Lian’s smiling face.
Yuelian tipped forward out of Hua Cheng’s lap, his body doing what it knew.
He twisted, tucking one knee under himself, weight shifting automatically in preparation to crawl as he usually did.
Hua Cheng let him start- He watched quietly for a heartbeat, eyes flicking between the familiar motion and the bright figure across the courtyard, Xie Lian still laughing as he lowered his sword, still entirely unaware- and then he intervened, gentle and sure.
He drew Yuelian back just enough.
Not abruptly and not enough to stop him outright, but simply to change the shape of the effort.
“Hey,” Hua Cheng murmured, voice low and calm, “Why don't we try something new?” He slid one hand to Yuelian’s tummy, the other firm at his side, and guided him upright instead.
Yuelian made a small sound of confusion, brows knitting briefly as his feet found the blanket where his hands had been. He wobbled, startled by the new angle, knees bending too much as his weight shifted uncertainly.
Hua Cheng held him steady without gripping, hands sure and patient as their youngest found his balance.
“There you go,” he said softly. “That’s it.”
Yuelian stilled, wide-eyed now, body taut with the unfamiliar effort. His babbling paused, breath catching as he balanced, gaze still fixed stubbornly on Xie Lian across the courtyard. One hand clutched reflexively at Hua Cheng’s sleeve, anchoring himself even as he stood.
Hua Cheng did not rush him.
He stayed exactly where he was, close enough that Yuelian could lean back if he wanted, far enough that the choice remained his. His attention flicked once more to Xie Lian, still radiant in the sun, then back to the small, unsteady body between his hands.
“You can do it,” he murmured, encouragement without pressure. “I’ve got you.”
Yuelian swayed, legs trembling, caught between where he was and where he wanted to be.
He did not hold his balance for long.
His legs shook, knees folding as his weight tipped the wrong way, and he plopped back onto the blanket with a soft thump. The surprise of it startled him more than the fall itself and he blinked, breath puffing out in a sharp, indignant huff as frustration bubbled up without direction.
Hua Cheng’s hands were there immediately, firm and warm at his sides. He lifted him again without comment.
Yuelian fussed faintly as his feet touched down again, a small, breathy complaint escaping him, but Hua Cheng did not pause. He guided him upright once more, steadying his hips, keeping him there.
“Come on, little one,” he murmured, calm and certain. “Up.”
Yuelian wobbled badly and he puffed again, arms flailing in brief, uncoordinated arcs, face creasing with effort without thought.
Hua Cheng stayed exactly where he was, holding him upright through the wobbles, letting Yuelian’s weight settle, letting the motion work itself out of his body. “There you go,” he said quietly. “Baba’s got you,”
The tension shifted.
Not consciously. Not all at once. Just enough.
Yuelian’s breath hitched, then slowed. His body steadied for a heartbeat longer than before, legs still shaking but holding. His gaze drifted, unfocused, then snagged on movement and sound across the courtyard.
Xie Lian laughed.
The sound rang bright and clear, full-bodied and delighted, carrying easily through the open space.
Yuelian reacted without knowing why.
Where his sister’s first steps had burst out of her in sudden joy, all curiosity and laughter, his came quietly, gathered and intent, driven by want rather than wonder.
Every inch of him strained toward that familiar voice, that shape across the courtyard, ready now because he had something to go to.
Hua Cheng felt it.
He glanced up, then lifted his voice just enough. “Gege.”
Xie Lian turned towards them, laughter still on his lips.
He froze.
His hands lifted instinctively, breath catching as his gaze locked onto the small, unsteady figure across the distance. The joy on his face flared instantly, bright and unguarded.
“A-Lian,” he breathed, excitement spilling over. “Oh-!”
Yuelian did not understand a thing happening around him, he only knew the shape of that voice and the way it pulled at him like gravity.
His body tipped forward again.
The first step happened.
He startled at it, a small sound breaking from him as he lurched, nearly losing balance again.
Then another step followed, just as clumsy, just as accidental.
Hua Cheng let go.
Yuelian toddled forward on instinct alone, arms lifted, legs shaking, momentum carrying him across the space with no understanding beyond the urgent need to close the distance.
The blanket ended and cool stone met his feet.
He barely noticed, because his mother was already there, beloved laughter breaking free, familiar hands outstretched.
“Come on baby!” he said, voice bright and breathless. “Come to me!”
Yuelian took two more unsteady steps and fell forward into waiting arms.
Xie Lian caught him easily and held him close, laughing outright now, pressing his face into soft hair as if he could not believe the weight of him there.
“You did it,” he said, joy spilling over. “You walked! You did it!”
Yuelian made a pleased, breathy sound, already forgetting the effort, content once more to simply be held.
Behind them, Hua Cheng watched, heart full and steady as their family burst into cheers around him, knowing without question that it had never been about readiness.
It had only been about want.