TIAN GUAN CI FU Fan fic stories

A LOVE TO REMEMBER

Which is a lie, but He Xuan became his manager a year after Hua Cheng entered the industry, so it's possible he doesn't remember. Or, better yet, he doesn't know.

Wishful thinking.

Hua Cheng narrows his gaze on himself. "What brand of lotion did you buy me last week? Look through the ingredients. Maybe there's something in there I'm allergic to."

"Who were you even talking about?" He Xuan continues as he begins to pace around the room behind Hua Cheng's chair. "What idiot broke your heart?"

Hua Cheng's finger pauses where it's currently poking at the bridge of his nose. He stares at his reflection, the cold tick of his eyebrows, the thin patch of black covering the evidence of his heterochromia. He prefers wearing the eyepatch; contacts are wonky and too much work, so he only ever bothers when he's filming. It's a bit of a requirement then. A hassle.

He sees He Xuan in his peripheral, the sight of him nauseating even through the blur.

"Don't call him names. He's not an idiot, and he didn't break my heart." He settles his hands in his lap. "He could never."

His voice is a little too icy. He'll have to work on that.

He Xuan scoffs. "That's what they all say. You were probably rejected or something."

Hua Cheng purses his lips. "Probably."

He Xuan says more after that, maybe. Most likely complaints about the inevitable Money With A Capital M he's going to have to pool out to make sure Hua Cheng's interview slip-up doesn't lead to people making up rumors about him and some random co-star of his. But Hua Cheng tunes out and takes out his phone, raking through threads of surprised and curious messages from acquaintances who watched the interview live.

Only one catches his eye.

gege [16:42]
Hi San Lang, it's Xie Lian
I watched your interview from today
You look good!
I hope you're doing well!

"Pause," says Hua Cheng. He lifts his hand up to the side of his face, and it's enough to have He Xuan stop talking about whatever the hell he's going on about and turn to look at him incredulously. "Shut up."

"I literally did," He Xuan huffs. "What's your problem?"

"He texted me."

"Who texted you?" He Xuan peers over Hua Cheng's shoulder and down at the screen of his phone. "Who the fuck is gege?"

Hua Cheng says nothing. He stares down at the four little gray bubbles, unmoving.

"No way," says He Xuan suddenly, "the sun?"

"Screw off," Hua Cheng mutters, and then he brings his shaking thumbs up and begins to type.

you [17:04]
hi gege
i hope you're doing well too

"How considerate," He Xuan says tauntingly, and Hua Cheng contemplates whether punching him in the face would count as breaching his contract. "So if gege is the sun, is San Lang the sunflower? Or, wait—if gege is the sun, then San Lang is the moon—"

"Do you want to die?"

"Yes," says He Xuan immediately. "Are you going to kill me? Get on with it then."

"How boring," Hua Cheng says, and then he slams his phone onto the dressing table, leans back in his seat, and closes his eyes. "Now piss off. I got two hours last night."

"Sucks for you," says He Xuan. "I'll wait for you in the car."

"Whatever."

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