random musings

I’d another hc whereby Hua Yong and Gao Tu are brothers.

One fateful night, Gao Tu has a steamy one-night stand with a stranger named Wenlang. No names, no numbers, just vibes and bad decisions. Morning comes, and Gao Tu has to sprint out the door because he’s late for a Very Important Family Lunch™. His beloved ge, Hua Yong, is introducing his boyfriend for the first time. Big deal. Parental expectations. Matching outfits. Emotional support dumplings.

Cut to: Gao Tu walking into the restaurant, fixing his hair, totally unaware that destiny (and terrible luck) are about to body-slam him.

Hua Yong walks in, all smiles, arm around his new “boyfriend.” And that boyfriend is Shen. Freaking. Wenlang.

Time stops. Chopsticks drop. The ghost of Confucius weeps in the distance.

Gao Tu is sitting there, vibrating with rage and secondhand embarrassment, trying to telepathically warn his brother:

“GE. HE’S A CHEATER. A SCAM. A SIN IN HUMAN FORM.”

Meanwhile, Wenlang is sweating so hard he might evaporate. He keeps trying to make eye contact like, “It’s not what you think!” but Gao Tu is giving him the patented “I will destroy you and your bloodline” glare.

The best part? Wenlang isn’t even dating Hua Yong. Nope. Hua Yong convinced him to pretend to be his boyfriend because he’s trying to make his childhood best friend, Sheng Shaoyou, who’s also at the lunch, jealous.

So now the table dynamics are:

Hua Yong, playing matchmaker with himself.

Gao Tu, ready to stage a moral intervention.

Wenlang, one wrong move away from spontaneous combustion.

Shaoyou, slowly catching on but enjoying the free drama buffet.

The entire lunch is just overlapping chaos: fake dating, real resentment, panicked eye contact, and one poor waiter who deserves a raise for surviving the tension. The waiter walks away whispering, “That family needs therapy and maybe an exorcism.”

By dessert, everyone’s emotionally scarred, nobody’s eaten their dumplings, and Wenlang is wondering if celibacy might actually be the safer life choice.

#shengao hc:

after swl and gt reunited, things change for the better. wherever swl goes, little lele is never far behind.

it becomes so normal that the entire company starts treating him like their boss’s tiny shadow. another day at the office? of course. “you need to get familiar with your future workplace.” swl says.

so when someone, usually new or clueless, dares to ask: “shen zong, is that your son?”

he arches an eyebrow, glances down at lele and replies, “do you not have eyes? don’t you see he’s a carbon copy of me? he looks like he is copy-pasted directly from my dna. unless you think i’m babysitting a miniature version of myself for fun?”

“i mean, if you’re confused, you might want to book an appointment with your optometrist,” he adds, sipping his tea. “or possibly an MRI, in case the issue is deeper.”

lele looks up and adds helpfully, “papa says some people’s brains are like wet napkins.”

swl doesn’t even blink. “smart boy.”

i’d this hc that each time swl buys a new toy for peanut, he would buy a duplicate one for lele. like he has never given up hope that he would meet his own child someday. he has rooms filled with things he’d bought for lele—literally from age 0 to 4.

to anyone else, it might’ve looked like a shrine to grief. but for swl, it’s hope. the kind that doesn't die even when logic says it should. he never says it out loud, not even to himself. but deep down, he believes that one day, lele will come home. and when he does, swl wants to be ready.

he wants lele to know he was never forgotten. that in the space between loss and longing, there has always been a place for him. a whole room filled with love, and toys, and the quiet faith of a father who never gives up on the child he lost but never stops looking for.