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One of Wukong’s brothers, Zhu Bajie, had had a wife when they’d first met.
That wife, a mortal woman named Blue Orchid, had swung a hoe at his head for attempting to take her husband from her.
It hadn’t been remotely effective, but he had to commend her guts.
Blue Orchid was a strong woman, in physicality and in heart.
Blue Orchid wore her heart on her sleeve.
Blue Orchid’s favorite flowers were lotuses, and - as Bajie loudly kept reminding everyone until Wukong begged him to shut up - they were going to have a daughter with that name someday.
Blue Orchid was a good person with a fierce temper when someone dared to ignite it, with a bright smile and calloused hands from farm work.
Blue Orchid was pale and weak, one of those hands limp in his grasp.
“You’ll make a wonderful mother! You’re - You’ll be spoiled rotten, too, yanno! A whole month in bed, that’s gotta–”
The slow, weak shake of Blue Orchid’s head was enough to stop him.
“Promise me, Wukong,” she whispered. She was barely audible over the baby’s cries, but he heard her clearly. “Promise to watch over them.”
He only hesitated because – because this might still change. She’d recover, surely.
But he saw the acceptance in her eyes.
Blue Orchid smiled. At him. At her husband, as he came bursting into the room at last, the midwife behind him.
Their baby in one hand, he grabbed at Blue Orchid’s other hand as if it would help. “My Flower…” he whispered through his tears.
And Blue Orchid just. Smiled.
“Promise me.”
Wukong’s throat grew tight, and he squeezed the hand he held in both of his own. “I promise,” he whispered, briefly petting the back of Blue Orchid’s hand. “...I promise.”
Her smile softened, as if she were waiting for that. She managed to turn away, to lock eyes with her husband. "Oh, darling..." she breathed.
And then her hand went limp.
Wukong had essentially kept his promise. Even if sometimes it didn’t feel like it.
He’d stuck around as long as he could, making the trip down to see them as often as possible.
He was there, with his other brothers, as he tried to be a good father to Little Lotus.
Once he even tried to give her a staff for her fifth birthday and Bajie had to run and stop the girl from smashing it through the chicken house and spooking the chickens.
But he had been around, helping them, watching out for them.
They all had.
But then, of course, years passed. Ao Lie had his own wife and children. Something happened to his youngest and that took a lot of Wukong’s attention. Sha Wujing adopted a child of his own and Wukong helped with them .
After a brief time of levity, Ao Lie was gone without a trace.
And then there was the business with DBK and the mountain.
And after that, it was him and Wujing.
Or “Sandy,” now.
He was calling himself “Pigsy.”
Even more time passed.
And honestly, he lost track of most of it.
A lot of things changed over the years.
The village became a city. Technology kept moving forward. The fashion kept changing. He had to start getting licenses and food handler’s permits to sell his food (which wasn’t a problem, honestly it was about time).
People came, people went.
He never remarried officially but he got another partner and they called themselves husbands, which was the important part. They had matching rings and everything.
Eventually, they had That Conversation. About exactly who he was.
His husband had looked ready to pass out, but he accepted it.
Time passed.
He got another kid.
More time passed.
He got a second kid - the little girl, Bai He, and damn if she didn’t look and feel so much like Little Lotus. Their girl had come back to him, he knew. He could feel it.
Time kept passing.
A new flower shop appeared in town just a few weeks before her anniversary.
By sheer bad luck, his usual flower shop was closed for the day - the sign on the door said there was a bad leak in the pipes.
So Pigsy went to the new place. Xiulan’s Garden, the sign above the door read. It was a smaller shop, designed to look like a fairy tale cottage from the outside, with paintings of different flowers decorating the door and windows.
Cute, he thought with a little chuckle.
A bell above the door jingled as he pushed it open, and he had to do a double-take as he entered the florist’s.
There was a variable rainbow of colors, flowers of all shapes and sizes were laid before him, either basking in the golden sunlight or glistening with water on their petals like diamonds. The colors were some of the most vivid he’d ever seen, so much that for a moment he swore he’d accidentally wandered back into the Celestial Realm.
The air smelled sweet, but not cloyingly so, a perfect combination of each flower’s scent, a fresh breeze, and what he almost thought was sunshine itself.
Which was strange, sunshine shouldn’t have a scent, right?
“I’ll be with you in a moment!” called a cheerful voice from another room.
“Take yer time!” he called back, scanning the sunlight, homey-looking shop until he found what he was looking for.
Lotuses.
Lotuses weren’t meant to be a cut flower, of course. But Blue Orchid had loved them; it felt right to give them to her.
So, even if the florists shook their heads in dismay or confusion when he asked them to cut the stems, he’d get lotuses without fail each year.
And this new florist sure had a lot, Pigsy couldn’t help notice.
Like. A lot, a lot. Apart from the big tub of water in front of him, there was another in the far corner behind him, a row of glass bowls with smaller lotuses in the windows, and he heard the sound of water running from a fountain. And yep, a little behind the counter was another water garden.
Either lotuses were more popular than he thought, or this florist really liked–
“Hi! Sorry to keep you waiting, what can I get for you?”
“Yeah, can ya cut me some of those–” Pigsy began, looking up and pointing at the lotuses floating in the big water garden.
And then he froze.
Dark hair cut in a shoulder-length bob. Dark eyes. A blue apron over a pale blue shirt and dark slacks. A pencil sticking behind her ear, where she’d used to wear her flower comb.
For an instant, the florist looked like–
The woman standing next to him blinked a few times. She frowned for a moment, then suddenly smiled as if nothing had happened. “The lotuses?” she asked.
Fuck, even her voice was the same.
“Yeah… Yeah, the lotuses,” he mumbled numbly.
“How many?”
“Uh, nine. Yeah, nine.”
The florist nodded, taking her small shears and snipping the lotuses free. Her hair fell from behind her ear, and once again Pigsy’s heart skipped a beat.
Blue Orchid’s hair would fall free from her pins when she was particularly tired from farming, strands falling over her face. She thought it was annoying, always tucking them back behind her ear but Bajie thought it made her look even prettier–
“Not many people put lotuses in bouquets,” the florist said, snapping him back to the present. She had already cut them free, and was walking to the counter to grab tissue paper. “I understand why, of course, but I think more people should.”
“Yeah. I mean, it’s fine with me - more for me to buy.” And then, in a moment of weakness, he added, “They’re for my wife.”
“Oh, how sweet! Is it a special occasion, or just because?”
The last florist had asked him if he was in the doghouse, Pigsy remembered with a wry half-smile.
“It’s her anniversary…” A pause. “She passed a long time ago.”
“Oh. Oh, sir, I’m so sorry…”
“It’s alright… I mean, it’s not–” He stopped, shaking his head. “She was mortal, and I’m… It happened a long time ago, it’s a lot less painful than it was before.”
“Even so…” the florist murmured. “I’m sure she’s happy you’re still getting her flowers after all this time.”
“Yeah…” Pigsy swallowed the tightness in his throat. “Anyway, how much do I owe ya?”
The florist shook her head as he was reaching for his wallet. “This is my free bouquet of the day,” she insisted, pressing it into his hands.
Her skin brushed against his, and his heart jolted a third time.
“Ya sure?”
“Consider it a gift for both of you.” Her smile softened.
Fuck, she even–
“Just come back again soon, sir. I’d like to give you flowers for a happier reason.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I will. Thank you,” Pigsy stammered out. He bowed his head as he backed up, then hurried out of the shop.
He completely missed how the florist’s smile faded into a frown and she pressed her fingertips to her temple.
Outside, he looked at the sign again.
Xiulan’s Garden.
Xiulan.
Xiulan.