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Fog hung low over the city, obscuring the outline of buildings and casting the streets in misty gray. Horse-drawn streetcars could be heard rolling by, only faint shadows showing where they were before they vanished into the fog again. People going on foot would appear, linger within view for a few moments, then disappear. No one took the time to look left or right this morning, especially not in the side streets and alleys. It was better not to see anything than risk seeing something they didn’t want to, which in this part of town, could be any number of unsavory things.

There was simply no way to have known how badly things would go. From where he was standing now — worn, ragged, and penniless — Xie Lian still couldn’t put together how he had ended up here. Obviously, he knew that his parents’ deaths had been the start of what had turned into a long string of misfortunes, but the rest was too much for him to process. Right now, Xie Lian was most concerned with finding somewhere he could sleep in relative safety before he figured out his next move. He had come to San Francisco on a whisper of hope, but that whisper was too faint in his current state to carry him much further. Xie Lian had come to know hunger and discomfort since coming to America, but his current situation was the worst he had experienced so far.

Xie Lian shook his head to clear away the mental image of his mother’s smiling face. He couldn’t afford to get lost in memories right now, not when he was vulnerable and lacking any real sense of direction. Then again, what direction did survival really need?

With what energy he had remaining, Xie Lian bedded down under the overhang of a building and resolved to wait until the sun came out to search for food. There was no point getting lost in the fog now, or worse, getting run over by a streetcar.

Eventually Xie Lian managed to doze off, his hip and shoulder aching dully in his sleep from where they pressed into the ground. Behind his eyes, he could see his mother and father, faces eager as they took their first steps into America. Xie Lian, sensing something wrong in the dreamscape, turned a worried eye towards the crowd ahead. All around them, faceless people loomed, their energy hostile and more than a bit threatening. Smokey hands reached out to grasp at his parent’s clothes, clawed fingers ripping into the fabric and the skin beneath it.

“No, stop it,” Xie Lian said, voice raspy from a rising feeling of dread.

The faceless people did not relent.

“Please, leave them alone. Leave them alone!” Xie Lian’s pleas fell on deaf ears, and he woke with a start, his own ears ringing and head aching from where something must have hit him.

“Hold him down! Get his legs! You, get his hands. Make sure he’s secured; not that he’s in much shape to fight,” came someone’s gruff voice from somewhere out of range of his blurred vision.

Face down against the ground, Xie Lian could see a man’s boots obscured only partially by the morning fog. Judging by the weight pressing against his body, there were at least two other people manhandling him and tying him up. Unfortunately for him, the speaker was right; Xie Lian was in no shape to fight back.

“Wakey, wakey, pretty boy. You don’t have much of a survival instinct, do you?” the same voice said, amusement evident in his tone. “Well, not to worry. We’ve got a place for you that will be way better than scraping by on the streets, don’t you worry. Now, why don’t you go back to sleep.”

Something heavy and blunt connected with the side of Xie Lian’s head then, turning his blurry vision black as he lost consciousness.

* * * * *

Xie Lian couldn’t remember at what moment exactly his luck had turned rotten, but it must have been somewhere on the way to America. He had been excited about the chance to explore a new land, and although that excitement had been tempered by nervousness, he had done his best to prepare for the change. He had learned the basics of the language, studied what he could about the culture, and fortified himself emotionally against leaving behind the places and the people he knew best.

While Xie Lian had prepared as best as he could, it had become apparent over the course of their voyage that his parents had not put in the same effort. Their lack of preparedness only became more obvious once they made it to Angel Island and were cleared by immigration officials. Xie Lian became his parents’ sole source of communication and connection among non-Chinese communities, and by extension, the sole source of real financial security. Although the Xie family had come with all their wealth, it was as though they had left all of their common sense at the dock in China.

It wasn’t long before Xie Lian found himself arguing with his father over the older man’s poor financial decisions. Xie Wangu had a terrible habit of trusting any Chinese man who approached him with a business venture, assuming they had good intentions and were honorable people simply on account of being a fellow Chinese immigrant. Xie Lian was not so naive, but his appraisal of other people’s intentions conflicted with his father’s idea of how their shared situation ought to dictate people’s actions. It wasn’t that Xie Wangu was an understanding and compassionate man who naturally believed the best about others, but that he was stubborn to a fault. He wanted people to treat him a certain way and to see him as a valuable business partner, so he built up a perception of them that had nothing to do with reason.

“Your father is a community man,” Xie Lian’s mother would say, defending her husband as baselessly as Xie Wangu defended his incorrect readings of others. Xie Lian knew better.

Sometime between arriving at Angel Island and moving through San Francisco to settle in a smaller gold rush town, the Xie family’s rapidly depleting luck finally ran out. They had come to a small outpost town on a hunch that someone Xie Wangu knew from China was there developing part of the new railroad system. Upon arriving and discovering who it was, Xie Lian tried desperately to convince his parents to leave town and take cover in a different place. Xie Wangu would hear nothing of it, and his wife took the moderate stance she usually did between them.

“Father, I don’t trust him,” Xie Lian had said, his heart fluttering in his chest with a sense of foreboding. Xie Wangu would hear nothing of his son’s concerns.

It ended in disaster, and now Xie Lian was waking up in a strange place with a throbbing headache and no hope that the people who had kidnapped him meant him well.

“Hello again, pretty boy,” said the same gruff voice from before. “How’s about we make a deal?”

* * * * *

It had only occurred to Xie Lian in passing that there weren’t many women in any of the places he had been in California thus far. It was still the early years of the Gold Rush, so the main influx of people from the east coast of the continent were men striking out to make their fortune. Xie Lian had heard people talking about sending for their wives and children, but the journey west was perilous and long. So when the thug who kidnapped him made his proposition, Xie Lian shouldn’t have been as shocked as he was.

“Pardon?” he said, disbelieving.

“You heard me. There’s a lack of women out here, and the men have needs. You’re certainly pretty enough to satisfy them,” the man said. Now that Xie Lian had been sat up and could see straight, he could see that the man in front of him was a white man somewhere in his thirties.

“I’m not a prostitute,” Xie Lian protested, indignation taking the place of his shock.

The white man, who had a very prominent wine stain on his face, snorted in response. “I don’t care what you are, pretty boy. All I know is that you don’t have papers on you, and you’re in our territory. That leaves you with two options.”

When Xie Lian didn’t make an acknowledgement, the man continued. “You can go be a sailor for the rest of your days, or you can go dress up real nice for your kind and make them happy. The way I see it is that you have a real pretty face, and it would be a shame to see you get lost at sea. Be glad I’m giving you the choice.”

He’s a crimp, Xie Lian realized. He had heard about these people who were in the business of kidnapping others — usually down-on-their-luck immigrants — to serve as sailors. How he had managed to fall right into one’s hands was just another mark on the growing tablet of his bad luck.

“I came here legally,” Xie Lian said, trying reason on for size, “but I lost my papers when —”

“Save it, kid,” the man said, cutting him off. “I don’t care for sob stories. I gave you a choice, so what’ll it be? The sea or the saloon?”

* * * * *

Before coming to America, Xie Lian might not have been able to conceive of anything more humiliating than being forced to dress like a woman and bat his eyelashes at other men. After being forced to bathe in the presence of onlookers when he was dragged into the saloon, however, he could come up with at least a few things worse. Xie Lian’s hair, still worn long in the style he was used to, though without the shaved front that was mandated back in China, only added insult to injury. Under threat of physical harm, Xie Lian had bit his tongue and allowed himself to be brought to a saloon where he was primped and preened by one of the few women in the town. The woman was a heavy-set American, her ruddy cheeks and big arms speaking to the kind of work she did. Nevertheless, she also took on the job of styling each new “lady” that came through the door.

“Oh, you’re a pretty thing,” she cooed, brushing her fingers through Xie Lian’s long hair. “I’m not one for your kind, usually, but you just look too sweet.”

Xie Lian glanced over at the two men keeping watch in the room before turning his attention back to the woman. If he wanted to make an escape, he knew better than to try his luck right now.

“Robert, was he fed yet?” the woman asked one of the men standing guard. When he responded in the negative she laid right into him.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to bring me half-starved street urchins!” she scolded, letting Xie Lian’s hair slip between her fingers.

“Look, Bertha, the boss wanted —”

“Useless! I didn’t ask you what he wanted! Now go on, get some proper food! Look how skinny he is,” Bertha railed, her ruddy cheeks darkening. The man standing beside Robert gave him a look, to which Robert huffed and rolled his eyes. He left the room after that, but he could be heard grumbling all the way.

“Now, let’s get your hair and makeup done, shall we?” Bertha said, turning her sights back on Xie Lian’s hair.

Seeing as there was nothing he could do, Xie Lian wallowed in his discomfort while Bertha strategically piled and pinned his hair up. Once she was satisfied with that, she powdered his face, put blush on his cheeks, and dabbed rouge onto his lips with her chubby fingers. All the while, Xie Lian stared straight ahead and did his best to ignore what was happening.

“I think that will do,” Bertha said, straightening up and looking over Xie Lian in all his frills and layers. “You look a right piece,” she said with a smile. She left the room to attend to her other work, but not before she passed over a plate with hot food on it to Xie Lian. “Eat, son. No matter what you have in your head, you need to eat.”

“Ain’t no one meant to be livin’ out here,” she could be heard muttering to herself as she made her way down the hall, and Xie Lian couldn’t help but feel a bit of sympathy for her. It couldn’t be easy being in her shoes, either. He wondered if she had chosen this life or if she was much a victim of fate as he was.

When he had finished eating, the man named Robert nodded at him. “You’ll be in the main hall tonight,” he said. “That’s where we start off all the new ladies. All you have to do tonight is look pretty and learn the dances. You got the first part, so you have it easy,” he said with a grin.

“Pick up your skirts, pretty boy,” the other man teased. “We don’t want you tripping down the stairs.”

Hoop skirts were new to Xie Lian in both concept and reality, and trying to walk down the stairs in one put his awareness of his own body to the test. He was still exhausted and malnourished, and navigating steep, narrow stairs in the bizarre contraption he’d been dressed in was making emotions he had been suppressing for weeks now come to the surface.

“Look, Robert, he even cries like a lady,” the second man laughed.

“He can cry, just as long as he don’t try running,” Robert retorted. “I don’t feel like giving chase. Hey, you hear that?” he said, raising his voice at Xie Lian. “Don’t try nothing. If I have to catch you cause you thought making a break for it was a good idea, I’ll leave you with a good reminder as to why you was wrong.”

Xie Lian blinked his tears of frustration away, irritated that the other man had commented on it when no tears had fallen. 

“Is this the new guy?” a thin man with reddish hair asked when he came to stand in front of Xie Lian.

“Yup, this is him,” Robert replied.

“He speaks English?” the red-haired man asked.

“Yeah, but you know how their accents are.”

“That’s fine, as long as he can dance. Hey, what’s your name?” he asked Xie Lian. When Xie Lian responded, the other man wrinkled his nose. “If anyone asks for name, just say it’s Liam, alright? Now come on, I’ll teach you the dances. We’ll see how much you can learn before tonight.”

* * * * *

Xie Lian struggled with the ties keeping his hoop skirt on and cursed under his breath when he tripped on the hem of his skirt. His breath was coming out in ragged gusts, cheeks visibly flushed even under the blush Bertha had applied that afternoon.

“I swear, pretty boy, when I catch you!” Robert bellowed, his voice licking at Xie Lian’s heels.

Finally the ties Xie Lian had been fighting with came loose. Xie Lian kicked himself free of the layers of skirts that rested over the hoop skirt and practically leapt out of the hoop skirt itself. He had ditched the uncomfortable shoes Bertha had put him in as soon as he had cleared the saloon’s porch when he first made his break for freedom, which meant he was running in stockings over the rocky dirt roads.

“You’ll be playing prostitute to the sailors when I catch you!” Robert’s furious voice sounded again. There were other men giving chase as well, and their shouts could also be heard alongside Robert’s.

After running for what must have been at least fifteen minutes, Xie Lian found his frantic feet carrying him down a street whose name sounded familiar. He could not have traced his way back to the saloon from here, which meant that he had made it here by pure chance, or in a rare twist of luck. Just about to collapse, Xie Lian’s heart gave a painful, hopeful lurch. Straight ahead was the symbol of freedom he had heard about.

The main entrance to Chinatown, Dragon Gate, stood like a beacon in the twilight, beckoning to Xie Lian like arms held wide open for an embrace.

“Oh, thank the gods,” Xie Lian wheezed, urging his burning legs to keep going. He careened around the corner of the first building inside the gates and kept running, taking another turn so he was parallel to the main street. Somewhere at the back of his mind was the vague memory of being told to look for the central gambling hall of Chinatown; within its walls, he could seek aid.

The sound of shouting fell away the further Xie Lian went, though he couldn’t tell if it was because he had outpaced his pursuers or if they had given up the chase. When he felt as though his lungs would burst out of his chest, Xie Lian slowed down to a pained shuffle, one fist clutching the fabric over his chest.

People peered out from their homes to watch him, their whispers catching on his disheveled hair. He carried on under their curious looks for a while until someone called out from an open window.

“You there! Are you well?”

Having recovered his breath enough to not look like a dying animal, Xie Lian looked to find the source of the voice. “I’m looking… for —” he rasped, pausing to draw in a pained breath.

“You’ll want to continue onto the main street,” the person instructed. “Straight ahead will be what you’re looking for. It’s not too much farther from here. Ask to speak with Hua Chengzhu.”

Xie Lian nodded his thanks, then pressed on. He knew that if he stopped now, he simply wouldn’t get back up. That woman Bertha might have made sure he got a meal, but it did little to turn back the toll the past few months had taken on his mind and body.

Hua Cheng, thought Xie Lian, feeling out the name. I hope he can help me.

* * * * *

Xie Lian stood before what had to be the largest building in Chinatown. Two signs with illegible writing on them hung on either side of the entrance and gave the structure a feeling of irreverence. Xie Lian got the feeling that the luck of the gods wouldn’t follow anyone in; at this gambling hall, the only luck a person would have was that which the patron afforded them.

It’s not like the gods give me any luck, anyway, Xie Lian lamented to himself. With that, he pushed his way into the saloon to test the good will of the infamous Hua Chengzhu.

Although the building was large, there was a certain aura about the saloon that suggested its influence lay not in its timber frame, but elsewhere. He only made it a few steps into the main room before a plain-looking man appeared before him, his eyebrows lightly furrowed.

“Greetings,” the man said, hardly batting an eye as he looked Xie Lian up and down. “May I ask your business?”

Xie Lian swallowed, the adrenaline from before settling into a low-grade anxiety that sloshed around in the bottom of his belly. “Hua Chengzhu, I come seeking —”

“Oh, no, I am not the owner of this place,” the man interrupted him, glancing one more time at Xie Lian’s clothing. “I can guess why you’re here, so if you’ll follow me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Xie Lian apologized, “I didn’t mean to assume, it’s just —”

“It’s no matter,” the man insisted, a small smile appearing on his face. “Now, follow me, please.”

Xie Lian nodded and followed silently behind the man. They walked through the main hall, pausing in front of a false wall in the back room that opened up to reveal a steep, narrow stairwell. There was light coming from below, so Xie Lian judged it to be safe enough and remained silent as he descended the stairs. Once he reached the bottom, the man beside him waited a few moments until Xie Lian’s eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the cellar.

“All those who come seeking the protection of Hua Cheng will receive it,” the man stated, addressing Xie Lian. “You can wait to voice your reasons for coming here until you meet with him personally, at which time he will decide what the best course of action is. For now, I can show you around. I take it you are unaware of what exactly it is that Hua Cheng does for his people.”

“Please, can I know your name first?” Xie Lian asked, his expression betraying the feeling of overwhelm he was experiencing.

“Ah, I forgot my manners,” the man said. “I am Yin Yu, personal assistant to Hua Cheng. Your name?” he prompted.

“I am Xie Lian,” Xie Lian replied with a small bow. “Thank you for taking me in. I… I don’t have anything to offer as compensation, but —”

“Please, there is no need. Everything will be worked out with Hua Cheng,” Yin Yu insisted. “Now, if I may be so bold as to suggest a change of clothing?”

Xie Lian flushed with shame. “I wouldn’t be able to pay for it,” he admitted in a soft voice.

“Mn, I see,” said Yin Yu. “Let me show you something, then,” he said, and turned to head deeper into the cellar.

Without any alternative, Xie Lian shuffled after him, exhausted and dejected. After a short distance, Yin Yu opened a door and gestured to Xie Lian to follow, then shut the door behind them. Immediately, a heady, sweet perfumed scent not unlike burnt sugar overtook his senses and made his head swim.

“This way,” Yin Yu directed. Lined up along the walls were cots, each one occupied by a man in varying states of intoxication. Some were actively puffing on a pipe while others stared at the wall or ceiling, slack-jawed and with eyes unfocused. A few of the men looked to be halfway across Death’s doorstep, though unaware of their precarious state.

Xie Lian was overtaken with a mix of emotions, though pity stood out clearly amongst the bunch. “It’s like how it was back home,” he whispered.

Yin Yu gazed out over the scene, his expression neutral. “The white men did this to our people,” he said. “So many couldn’t escape it back home, and others fell into the trap once they got here. For those who cannot kick the habit, Hua Chengzhu provides a place where they have access to a clean supply and a bed. Those that end up down here are unlikely to break free; it’s kinder to give them a resting place than to leave them on the street to rot without dignity.”

Xie Lian looked away from one man who was skin and bones and clearly oblivious to the world around him. “This is what Hua Cheng does?” he asked, quiet reverence in his voice.

“It is,” Yin Yu replied. “Like you, these men cannot pay for what they are provided. Money is not what Hua Cheng is after.”

“It’s the reputation,” Xie Lian said, filling in the silence.

“Precisely.”

“He must be a very compassionate man, then,” Xie Lian said.

“Where it matters, yes,” said Yin Yu. “Now, how about a change of clothing?”

His anxiety assuaged for the moment, Xie Lian nodded and allowed himself to be guided back to the previous room in the cellar. Yin Yu pulled out various garments, eyes flicking back and forth between Xie Lian and the clothing until he held out a pair of tops and bottoms.

“These should fit you,” Yin Yu said, then continued rifling through the wardrobe until he procured an assortment of items. “Undergraments, socks, and a pair of slippers. We will work out more suitable clothing and shoes once you meet with Hua Chengzhu and he helps settle you someplace.”

Xie Lian held the pile of clothing against his chest, anxiety kicking up once again. “Does he send people off?” he asked.

“It all depends on what each person can offer in terms of skills or trades, as well as on the needs of the community,” Yin Yu replied. “You won’t be banished or sent away to do hard labor, if that’s what you mean. You came here for help; it is help that you shall receive.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to insult your hospitality,” Xie Lian cut in, “I’m just not… I’m not used to receiving help.”

Yin Yu’s features softened, and his voice took on a warmer note. “You came to the right place, Xie Lian. You’ll be given what you need.”

* * * * *

Xie Lian followed Yin Yu up the stairs to emerge in the back room of the saloon, his relief and anxiety at having found a place of refuge mixing with the ever-growing pain in his feet. Running barefoot had abused them, and while he was desperately thankful for Yin Yu’s hospitality in Hua Cheng’s stead, he was equally desperate to tend to them.

“I’ll lead you upstairs to where you’ll be staying for now,” Yin Yu said, “and you can wash up and change there if you —”

“Yin Yu! I hope you’re here and listening! That mongrel Willy tried crossing me on a deal not but an hour ago. I told him before, and I warned him again, that if he ever pulled that shit he’d face E’ming. Well, lo and behold, the words must not have made it through his thick skull because he —”

“Hua Chengzhu,” said Yin Yu, cutting through the newcomer’s tirade, “we have a guest.”

The man who had stomped into the back room drew himself up and blinked in a moment of surprise at Xie Lian before his expression slid into something cool and unreadable. Xie Lian stared back at him, his own eyes wide  as he took in the sight of him.

Leather chaps over trousers covered the man’s lower body, while a leather jacket in the American style hung open over a traditional Chinese shirt. Coal-black hair flew wild around his face and from a braid that hung heavy down his back, creating a distinctly wild, wind-swept energy. One deeply hooded eye regarded Xie Lian while the other remained hidden behind a tousled curtain of bangs.

Xie Lian immediately felt self-conscious under the man’s gaze.

“A guest indeed,” the man said. “Welcome. I am Hua Cheng, the proprietor of this place. What brings you here?”

Nerves and shame overtook Xie Lian and rendered him speechless. Despite his attempts, he could not tell himself to see Hua Cheng as anything less than the most handsome man he had ever seen.

“He was caught by crimpers,” Yin Yu informed him, “one of DeVal’s. Looks like he ended up in Bertha’s place, by some stroke of luck. He Xuan does as well as he can keeping an eye out for the ships, but it’s easier to get them when they’re still on land.”

Hua Cheng nodded in acknowledgement, his eye never leaving Xie Lian as he looked him up and down. “I see you found clothing for him,” he said.

“Yes. He is no addict, and no prostitute,” said Yin Yu.

“Not a prostitute,” Hua Cheng repeated under his breath. Xie Lian swore he saw Hua Cheng let his gaze flicker down his body.

“I was going to show him to a room and let him clean up,” said Yin Yu, weighing Xie Lian’s silence and Hua Cheng’s intense presence. “His feet appear to be rather battered.”

As though a spell had broken, Hua Cheng raised his head minutely before turning on his heel. “Very good,” he said, addressing Yin Yu. “We will reconvene in half an hour. I have some business to attend to.”

“Yes, sir.” Yin Yu stood beside a speechless Xie Lian, completely unruffled by his boss’ hurricane-force entrance and exit. “Thirty minutes should be plenty to get you situated,” he said, addressing Xie Lian. “Shall we?”

Thirty minutes was enough to see Xie Lian tidied up and his feet salved and bandaged, but it was not enough to calm his nerves. Something about Hua Cheng had put him on edge, but not out of a sense of danger or fear. The man had a commanding presence, one that brooked no arguments; there was a sort of confidence about him that could only come from having proven himself in his endeavors. Looking at the room Xie Lian had been assigned to, it was easy to see that whatever Hua Cheng’s original intentions were in settling here, he had managed to create something great.

Xie Lian’s room wasn’t luxurious by any means, but it was furnished, the windows had drapes, and there was a small rug by the bedside. There was everything someone could need in a bedroom, and Xie Lian was getting it all for free.

Except Xie Lian wasn’t so naive as to believe any of this was truly for free.

No matter what Yin Yu said, Xie Lian fully expected to pay for his stay in one way or another. Perhaps if he was back in China he could expect such generous hospitality, but the gold rush towns of California lacked the resources and infrastructure to provide the same; the people, too, held very different mindsets. This was something Xie Lian’s father could not grasp, and it had led to his and his wife’s deaths. Xie Lian, on the other hand, had learned.

A knock sounded on his door, followed by Yin Yu’s head poking in to see if he was ready. The next thing he knew, Xie Lian was in Hua Cheng’s office, seated in a chair facing the man’s substantial desk.

To Xie Lian’s great surprise, the heavy, all-encompassing energy that Hua Cheng had possessed earlier was nowhere to be found. Instead, the man sat languidly in his chair, one arm draped over the armrest while the other ended in an elegant hand whose fingers were wrapped around a tulip-shaped glass.

“Can I offer you a drink?” he asked, gesturing to a decanter full of whiskey.

“No, thank you. I don’t drink,” Xie Lian replied.

Hua Cheng raised an eyebrow. “Religious abstinence?” he asked.

“No, just a personal choice.” Xie Lian decided it was safest not to tell anyone he had a low alcohol tolerance.

“What vices do you have, then?” Hua Cheng asked, his tone slightly teasing. “Everyone’s got at least one.”

Xie Lian allowed himself a small snort of laughter. “While I don’t hold myself up as a paragon of virtue, I can’t say that I have any vices.”

“None? So if I offered you a smoke, you would decline?” Hua Cheng asked, sitting forward in his chair, his eye glinting.

“I would,” Xie Lian replied, “but I would capitulate if Hua Chengzhu insisted.”

Hua Cheng made a soft sound and sat back in his chair once more. “That won’t do,” he murmured.

Xie Lian’s stomach clenched. Had he angered this man already?

“Please, call me San Lang,” Hua Cheng said.

“I couldn’t possibly refer to my host so casually,” Xie Lian said, his head bowing in deference.

“None of that,” Hua Cheng said, “not from you.”

“And who am I?” asked Xie Lian. When he looked up at Hua Cheng, it was with an expression of humility and sincerity.

A beat of silence passed between them before Hua Cheng spoke. “Who are you?” he asked, letting the question hang in the air like mist.

Xie Lian shifted in his chair under Hua Cheng’s gaze. Wild black hair still obscured the right side of his face, casting what he could see of it in deep shadow.

“What brings you here, gege?” Hua Cheng asked, his voice working as a gentle prod.

Had it been anyone else, Xie Lian would have been on high alert, but everything about Hua Cheng was proving to be disarming. He knew that he shouldn’t, but Xie Lian could feel himself slipping into a tentative state of trust. Even the use of the term gege didn’t register as strange to him.

“I had nowhere else to go,” he said after a minute. “I came to America with my mother and father, but they’re dead now. All of my personal documents were lost in a fire.”

“A dead man walking, then,” Hua Cheng remarked, swirling his glass and raising it to his nose. He took a deep drag of the whiskey’s aroma, his eye closing as he did. “I see this all the time,” he said, lowering the glass. “It happens so often to our people, and there’s little to be done to remedy it. I have to ask an honest question: do you want to stay in America, or would you prefer to return to China?”

Xie Lian’s breath hitched. He missed home terribly, but that door had closed with his parents’ deaths. “There’s nothing for me to return to,” he said. “My parents sold everything, and then they lost all our money in one bad venture after another once we came here.” Bitterness tinged his hollow grief.

Hua Cheng regarded him silently. “A penniless orphan,” he murmured, then downed his whiskey. “You have a place here, gege, as long as you need it. My saloon might not be able to replace your lost family, but you will be looked after. By necessity, I must ask what skills you possess, so we might find work for you. You may not have your papers anymore, but you have two arms and two legs, which is more than a number of our people who end up working the mines.”

“I could probably fill in wherever I’m needed,” said Xie Lian before a blush crept over his cheeks, “except as a prostitute.”

“Of course, no vices,” Hua Cheng said with a grin. “You have got an awfully pretty face, though,” he added, smiling as he poured himself another glass of whiskey while Xie Lian spluttered.

“Very well, then. I will speak with Yin Yu to find you a suitable job. For now, take some rest. If you feel up to it, however, you are more than welcome to join me in the saloon. It’s about to get lively down there,” Hua Cheng said, sitting back in his chair and holding his glass up to Xie Lian in a toast. “Welcome to the Fool’s Gold Saloon.”

Xie Lian offered Hua Cheng a bow in thanks and was nearly out the door when Hua Cheng’s voice stopped him.

“Gege,” he called, “I have one more question. How did you lose your papers?”

“There was a house fire,” Xie Lian replied, taking note of the term of address.

“In the city?”

“No, in a railroad town.”

“Mn. Thank you, gege,” Hua Cheng said with a smile, his voice smooth and even.

Xie Lian bowed again and took his leave of the office, his mind spinning from his meeting with Hua Cheng.

* * * * *

Xie Lian did not go downstairs to find Hua Cheng in the saloon that evening, nor did he venture down the following three evenings, either. Instead, he took the time to rest in spite of the anxiety he felt about being a drain on Hua Cheng’s resources and generosity. There was something magnetic about the man that outweighed Xie Lian’s anxieties and kept him temporarily rooted within the saloon. Besides, Yin Yu was proving to be a helpful, if not slightly detached, companion that insisted Xie Lian was not a burden in any way. He even assured Xie Lian that he would be put to work once his feet were healed and he was properly fed and rested; Xie Lian had a feeling his insistence was as much for Xie Lian’s ease of mind as it was regular protocol.

In the days where Xie Lian only ventured out of his room for meals and to empty his chamber pot or fetch fresh water to wash up with, he saw nothing of Hua Cheng. Xie Lian was left to wonder if the man was out on business or if he didn’t engage much with the saloon outside of his evening activities.

Yin Yu had told Xie Lian that Hua Cheng presided over the saloon most evenings, and because Xie Lian retired early to avoid the crowd, it made sense that they didn’t run into each other. Besides, there was no reason Hua Cheng would go out of his way to seek Xie Lian out, especially when he had a competent right hand man like Yin Yu to oversee the regular management of the Fool’s Gold Saloon.

“Hua Chengzhu hopes you will join him this evening for the festivities,” said Yin Yu on the fourth day of Xie Lian’s stay.

“Join him?” Xie Lian repeated in surprise.

“Yes, today is the start of the lunar new year celebrations. There aren’t many public celebrations yet, but plenty of people host gatherings in their homes. As a resident here, you are of course welcome to join in for the festivities,” Yin Yu explained.

Xie Lian nodded, processing the information. “I didn’t even realize it was that time of the year,” he said.

“Time passes differently when you are fighting for survival,” Yin Yu said in response. “So, shall I tell Hua Chengzhu that you will be in attendance?”

Xie Lian wanted to ask why his presence was being requested in particular, but decided the other residents must also have received similar invitations. After holing up in his room for a few days, it would only be right for him to show his face and thank Hua Cheng in person once again for his generosity.

“Yes, I’ll be there,” he said.

“Excellent,” said Yin Yu. “We’ll see you this evening, then.”

* * * * *

When Xie Lian ventured downstairs, it was without any preconceived ideas about what the holiday celebrations would entail. The last celebration he had attended felt like it had been ages ago, and the almost lavish celebrations his parents had thrown in China felt like they had occurred in a prior life. At this point, Xie Lian was so used to living without even all the essentials that simply seeing red lanterns and ornaments made his breath hitch.

There were already other people gathering in the saloon and setting themselves up at tables to play cards. The bartender was busy pouring drinks while wait staff placed small bowls of treats on the tables for the guests to pick at. Yin Yu stood sentry at the door, checking invitations as new guests arrived and gesturing them in once they were verified.

After his initial shock, Xie Lian was able to take in the decorations placed throughout the saloon. There were the red lanterns, but also couplet scrolls framing the doorway, Fu symbol ornaments and paper chains hanging from the rafters, and lovely paper cut-outs pasted onto the windows. The red and gold paper decorations brought such a vivid liveliness to the saloon; Xie Lian’s heart ached just looking at them.

The warm, heady scent of tobacco caressed Xie Lian’s cheek and made him turn his head to see who was passing by. Beside him stood a man in a beautiful, embroidered silk jacket in the traditional Chinese fashion. Golden phoenixes danced across the vivid red fabric, and a heavy black braid cut across the left breast of the jacket. Holding his breath, Xie Lian followed the braid up to where it draped over a broad shoulder, then further up the pillar of the man’s neck to where his jaw met his ear. Held captive by what he saw, Xie Lian only managed to break free when he caught a glimpse of the man’s lips, the corners turning upward in a smirk. With a start, Xie Lian looked at the man’s face, his eyes wide in embarrassment.

“Does gege like what he sees?” Hua Cheng asked, cocking his head so that hair fell over his right eye.

“I-I… I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to stare, I just —” Xie Lian stammered, but his words faded when Hua Cheng’s lips split into a grin.

“This one is not bothered in the least. Gege may stare all he likes,” he purred.

Xie Lian stood frozen in place, trapped in the man’s presence due to his own weak will. “The saloon looks beautiful,” he blurted, face burning with shame.

Hua Cheng hummed, then straightened up. Xie Lian hadn’t even noticed the man had bent forward at some point while talking to him. Now that he was standing straight again, Xie Lian could take in just how tall he was. Xie Lian’s heart thumped painfully in his chest.

“These are just basic decorations,” said Hua Cheng, looking out over the scene before them. “Certainly it is nothing compared to what gege was accustomed to back home.”

Xie Lian’s head whipped around. “This is the loveliest thing I’ve seen since coming here,” he said, entirely sincere. There was something in Hua Cheng’s tone that made Xie Lian want to reassure him. “Besides, that life is long gone. Just as the New Year demands, we must look forward to a better future.”

Hua Cheng was silent for a moment, then smiled and looked at Xie Lian. “Gege is right, of course. What is there in our pasts but ghosts to haunt us?”

Xie Lian suppressed a shudder.

“Ah, I’ve upset gege,” Hua Cheng said, remorseful. “Please, let this one make it up to you. Won’t you join me at my table?”

Surprise, embarrassment, and shame all welled up in Xie Lian. “I wouldn’t be so presumptuous,” he murmured. “There must be many others Hua… San Lang would rather invite to his table.”

Had Xie Lian been watching Hua Cheng, he would have seen a shiver pass through him. “This San Lang would be honored if gege would sit beside him this evening.”

Feeling he had no choice and lacking the willpower to refuse him, Xie Lian nodded his assent and followed Hua Cheng across the saloon to a private table set where Hua Cheng could preside over the activities of the saloon unimpeded. Once they were settled and drinks had found their way onto their table, Hua Cheng clinked a spoon against his glass and immediately drew everyone’s attention.

“Welcome, everyone. May you all find luck and fortune in the new year,” he said, his voice carrying clearly over the crowd of watchful guests. “Today starts the Lunar celebrations, so make merry and enjoy!”

Cheers rang out throughout the saloon, glasses clinking together as people saluted the new year and looked forward to the break the holiday afforded them. Although the celebrations were not recognized by their white counterparts, for today, in Hua Cheng’s saloon, they were free to celebrate as they saw fit.

Hua Cheng sat down again and smiled at Xie Lian. “Is gege sure he won’t have one drink with this San Lang?” he asked, his voice warmer and more comforting than the plushest blanket.

Xie Lian blushed at the attention. “Perhaps just a sip would be fine,” he said.

Hua Cheng beamed at Xie Lian, looking absolutely gratified. “Well, if it’s just a sip gege wants, then why not share with this San Lang?”

Xie Lian gawked at the glass held out to him, the very same one that Hua Cheng had made his toast with and sipped from. He could feel eyes on him from other patrons in the saloon, igniting his self-consciousness.

“I couldn’t possibly,” he murmured, turning his face away from Hua Cheng. It would give the wrong idea, he thought to himself, but the thought that that might be a lie made his ears burn.

“Please, it would be this San Lang’s greatest honor to share with gege,” Hua Cheng insisted, the warmth in his voice luring Xie Lian in until he could feel the warmth of the man himself as he gently crowded into Xie Lian’s space.

With eyes downcast, Xie Lian turned his face back towards Hua Cheng, pausing for a moment before looking up through his lashes at him. One obsidian eye held Xie Lian in its gaze, an enchanting red flicker lighting up its depths and captivating Xie Lian. Slowly, tentatively, Xie Lian raised one hand to rest his fingers over Hua Cheng’s fingers wrapped around the glass. Together, eyes locked on one another, they brought the glass to Xie Lian’s lips. Fiery liquid slid over Xie Lian’s tongue and down his throat. Hua Cheng made to pull the glass away, but pressure from Xie Lian’s fingertips kept him still.

Entranced, Hua Cheng exhaled a shaky breath and tipped the glass up, watching Xie Lian’s throat bob as he swallowed down the whiskey. Xie Lian watched the red flame in Hua Cheng’s eye dance and set the obsidian ablaze. Each swallow he took brought more heat to Hua Cheng’s eye and to his own body. He couldn’t look away.

Glass emptied, Xie Lian released Hua Cheng from his touch, disappointed when the glass left his lips.

“I thought gege didn’t have any vices,” Hua Cheng purred, voice low and rough.

“None that I know of,” Xie Lian replied, body on fire. He was vaguely aware of the presence of other people in the saloon, their attention on the pair poorly concealed.

A sharp grin cut across Hua Cheng’s face. “I see.” He leaned back in his chair, not even trying to hide his self-satisfaction. To Xie Lian, he looked like the wild bobcats he had seen in his travels. Xie Lian felt like the rabbit foraging in the underbrush.

* * * * *

The next morning brought clarity to Xie Lian when he rolled over in bed and felt a light throbbing in his temples. The only other time he had felt like this had been when his former employer had plied him with drinks. Xie Lian frowned at the memory and thought back to the previous night instead as he rolled out of bed to get ready for the day. Slipping his feet into his shoes so he could walk across the bare floor, he felt the cold slide of something under his toes. Tucked away in his left shoe were some coins from the night before, each one found in a dumpling as a token of good luck. Hua Cheng had kept putting dumplings on his plate, and each one ended up containing a coin. He knew from the few comments he could remember from other patrons that not every dumpling contained a coin; he must have gotten very lucky.

Xie Lian tipped the coins onto the bed, put his shoe back on, and crossed the room to splash his face with water. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, but then the memory of his shamelessness made him cough when he inhaled water in his moment of realization.

“What was I thinking?” he gasped to himself, burying his face in his hands. Water ran down his arms and fell to the floor. “Oh no,” he groaned. He truly couldn’t account for what had overtaken him. Perhaps it was the months of stress finally settling in light of a safe place to sleep, or maybe it was the kindness both Yin Yu and Hua Cheng were showing him, but he had to be honest with himself. He wasn’t shamelessly flirting with Yin Yu. It was Hua Cheng who occupied his whole field of view.

I just have to pretend like nothing happened, he told himself. Maybe he’ll think I don’t remember anything from last night.

Whatever luck Xie Lian had that brought him all those coins had apparently run out.

“Good morning, gege,” Hua Cheng said into his ear.

Xie Lian had come downstairs to see if Yin Yu had any work for him and had been told to wait a moment. Yin Yu had only been gone a minute before Hua Cheng arrived, immediately crushing any hope Xie Lian had about playing clueless.

“Did gege sleep well? After so many dumplings and all that whiskey, I can’t imagine he slept poorly,” Hua Cheng’s warm breath puffed against the back of Xie Lian’s neck. “Did gege have any dreams last night?”

Seeing as there was no way for him to play dumb, Xie Lian turned his cheek and demurely petitioned Hua Cheng. “Won’t you save me some face, San Lang?” he asked, color creeping up his neck.

Hua Cheng stood up, his hands clasped behind his back. The upright posture wasn’t enough to offset the devilish grin he was sporting. “Of course, gege, of course. I’m only surprised gege was so bold before a drink. Usually one becomes emboldened after having consumed alcohol.” His grin deepened when Xie Lian let out a small groan.

“San Lang,” Xie Lian whined under his breath.

“Right, I was saving you some face,” Hua Cheng said with seriousness.

“You’re so insincere,” Xie Lian said.

“I assure you, gege, you will never find anyone more sincere than me,” Hua Cheng declared, his dark eye dragging Xie Lian’s attention onto itself.

Xie Lian let out a snort, the sudden change in Hua Cheng’s demeanor making him self-conscious for some reason. “I was waiting for Yin Yu,” he said to fill the silence. “He said he would find me some work to do.”

“Did he now?” Hua Cheng asked. “Is gege so desperate to be put to work?”

“I am,” Xie Lian replied in earnest. “I might not have any special talents, but I am able-bodied and willing to work. I’d like to earn my keep.”

Hua Cheng held Xie Lian’s gaze, eye gleaming. Xie Lian, for his part, began to squirm under the attention. His eyes went wide.

“That sounds like… oh no, I didn’t mean it like that! I just mean that I don’t want to be a freeloader!” he hurried to clarify.

A beautiful, full laugh rang out through Hua Cheng’s parted lips. “Gege is no prostitute,” he said, “I remember. I would never ask that kind of labor from gege.”

“No, of course not,” muttered Xie Lian, his whole face going pink.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Hua Cheng asked, tipping his head to the side to peer at Xie Lian.

Xie Lian fidgeted where he stood, aware in the moment of how silly he sounded. “It’s just that San Lang runs a successful saloon and is well-known in these parts. I’m sure he could have anyone he wanted, at any time.”

“Is that what gege thinks?” Hua Cheng asked, his voice soft. He waited until Xie Lian looked at him again before continuing. “You might have heard rumors about me, but those concerning certain…” he searched for a moment for the right word before continuing, “... exploits, are just that. I can’t claim to be sexually promiscuous. It’s not one of my vices,” he added, eyebrow quirking upward as he watched Xie Lian’s expression closely.

“I shouldn’t have assumed,” Xie Lian murmured in apology.

“Well, if gege insists on working, then why not accompany this one into town?” Hua Cheng asked, slipping easily from a serious tone to a more lighthearted one.

Xie Lian wanted to refuse on principle, but he had already spoken ill of the very man who was feeding and housing him. If Hua Cheng still wanted Xie Lian’s company, then he had no right to decline. Besides, it wasn’t that Xie Lian didn’t want to be around Hua Cheng, but that he felt Hua Cheng deserved to keep better company.

“Excellent. I’ll let Yin Yu know.”

* * * * *

Outside, the air was cold and damp, the usual San Francisco fog settling over the house roofs like a heavy blanket. Xie Lian had borrowed a jacket from Yin Yu and was wrapped up tightly within it. After hiding indoors for a few days, he had almost forgotten how chilling the breeze could be when it blew the damp right into his bones.

“Gege is cold,” Hua Cheng remarked from where he walked beside Xie Lian.

Xie Lian grimaced as a shiver ran through him, putting a stop to his protests before he could even begin. Instead of talking, he tucked his chin towards his chest and followed Hua Cheng up Grant Avenue to exit Chinatown through the northern gate on Stockton Street. From there, it was only a short walk to reach Market Street, the town’s main commercial hub.

It wasn’t until Xie Lian felt eyes on him that he remembered how close he had been to becoming a showboy only a few days ago. He took one step closer to Hua Cheng, drawn to his imposing figure as a beacon of safety before he caught himself and froze.

What am I doing? he scolded himself. I can’t hide behind him like a child!

A sturdy arm wrapped itself around his shoulders and drew him in, his body coming to a halt when it pressed up against Hua Cheng’s side.

“What does gege think of this one?” Hua Cheng asked, holding up a woolen scarf in red and white.

Xie Lian was still breathless from the intimate gesture and could little more than nod at Hua Cheng, eyes wide and startled.

Hua Cheng chuckled. “Great.” He purchased the scarf and tied it around Xie Lian’s neck, fluffing it up around his ears before tweaking his nose. “That should help keep gege warm.” Hua Cheng gave Xie Lian a slight nudge, urging him onward with a featherlight touch of his hand against the middle of Xie Lian’s back.

Xie Lian was floating. He absently provided responses when Hua Cheng asked him which pair of boots he preferred, pointing at two pairs each time until he settled on one. It was only when Hua Cheng repeated the cobbler’s request to get his measurements that Xie Lian returned to his body.

“What?” he asked. “I thought you were choosing boots for yourself. I couldn’t possibly accept something like this!”

“Gege needs boots. The cotton shoes you’re wearing now are fine for indoors or in the summer, but they’ll soak through and your feet will freeze in the winter,” Hua Cheng reasoned.

“No, I can’t accept them,” Xie Lian protested.

Hua Cheng gestured to the cobbler to give them some space. “Gege, this San Lang wants to buy you boots. It would be my honor.”

“How can you say that?” Xie Lian practically cried. “We don’t even know each other! What if I stuck around until the boots were ready and then left? You’d have spent all that money for nothing.”

“Does gege plan on leaving anytime soon?” Hua Cheng asked, his voice gentle.

Xie Lian felt something inside him break. “No,” he whispered, holding Hua Cheng’s gaze for a moment before looking at the floor.

“Then why does gege refuse?” Hua Cheng prompted.

“I don’t deserve this,” Xie Lian whispered.

“Oh, gege,” Hua Cheng said.

Xie Lian felt Hua Cheng’s fingertips on his chin, angling his face up so he could see him clearly. His heart stuttered in the face of all that beauty.

“Gege deserves so much more than a pair of boots,” Hua Cheng said, adoration written in his features.

Xie Lian felt a lump form in his throat. He shook his head.

Hua Cheng sighed. “Well, I’m afraid gege will have to accept these boots. I won’t have any of my workers walking around in cloth shoes, waiting to get sick. If gege wants to work for me, then he will have to comply.”

There was nothing to be done, so Xie Lian allowed the cobbler to take his measurements before the pair left the shop with a receipt in hand. Xie Lian felt like a child, but only half of him took it in self-reproach. Although he felt ashamed at being in the position where he needed to rely on the goodwill of others to get by, he also felt comforted by the belief that Hua Cheng would look out for him. He had only known this man for such a short time but already knew this to be true. And so, with the stubbornness befitting a young child, Xie Lian walked with his shoulder lightly touching Hua Cheng’s arm. He kept his eyes firmly fixed on the ground, and let himself be guided.

“I was wondering,” Hua Cheng spoke after they had walked a distance, “how gege had come to hear about my establishment.” He gazed down at Xie Lian.

Xie Lian gave a small smile. “I had heard your name in passing a few times along my journey, and each time it was spoken either with reverence or fear. Sometimes, even with contempt.”

Hua Cheng smirked. “I can guess the kind of people who spoke with fear or contempt,” he said.

Xie Lian nodded. “Those that spoke with reverence were our own people, so I figured that whoever Hua Chengzhu was, he had to at least be compassionate.”

“Has gege found this to be true?”

“San Lang,” Xie Lian breathed a laugh, “you’re fishing for compliments.”

Hua Cheng put his hand to his chest and made a face. “Certainly not!” he protested. “This San Lang is merely curious.”

Xie Lian fussed with his scarf before burying his nose into it and speaking with a muffled voice. “San Lang is very compassionate, and very generous. I saw what he provides to those below the saloon; it takes a very compassionate person to do something like that. Yin Yu also told me about the women that have passed through your door and how you helped each one stay out of the wrong hands.”

A dark cloud passed over Hua Cheng’s face. “I couldn’t keep gege out of the wrong hands, though.”

“Oh, San Lang, that was never your responsibility!” Xie Lian exclaimed in earnest. “We didn’t even know each other yet, so how could you have done anything?”

Hua Cheng shook his head. “I feel like I’ve known you a lifetime,” he said, “like we knew each other in a past life, even.”

Xie Lian came to a stop at the same time Hua Cheng did. “San Lang —”

“Hey! Pretty boy!”

A fist tightened around Xie Lian’s heart at the sound of the voice. Just as he turned to look, Hua Cheng pushed him behind his back and squared his shoulders.

“I know you weren’t talking to me,” Hua Cheng said, his voice like a whip, “and you certainly weren’t addressing my company that way, either.”

Robert, the man who had taken Xie Lian to Bertha barely a week ago, was standing a few dozen paces away. He had the remains of a black eye, the bruising not fully diminished yet. “I most definitely wasn’t talkin’ to you, ugly. That pretty thing you got behind you belongs to me,” he said.

“Oh?” Hua Cheng said, cocking an eyebrow. “Are you sure? You have a little something on your face that tells me that’s not true.” He flicked a fingertip over his cheekbone, like he was wiping away dirt.

Robert’s face turned red. “You think you’re real funny, Hua Chun, but you forget that you’re outside of your territory. We play by your stupid rules because —”

“Play?” Hua Cheng sneered. “I don’t play with your kind.”

People had noticed the tension and cleared the streets so that the previously busy street was nearly empty.

“You’re a cocky motherfucker,” Robert spat. “You ought to be taught a lesson.” As if cued, four men stepped out of different doorways to flank Robert in the street.

Xie Lian held his breath and peered around Hua Cheng. In the silence, Xie Lian caught the faintest sound of leather creaking and moved only his eyes to see what Hua Cheng was planning. He nearly choked.

Holstered at Hua Cheng’s hip was the gleaming rosewood handle of a revolver.

“San Lang, don’t,” Xie Lian whispered, his momentary terror subsiding behind a curtain of resolve. “I’ll go, and then you’ll be safe. I’ve brought trouble on you already.”

“You know,” called Robert, “it’s amazing how many people want you.” Although he couldn’t see Xie Lian, his words were directed at him. “We got a ransom offer we couldn’t refuse, so if you know what’s best for you and the man you’re hiding behind, you should just hand yourself over. Don’t worry, you won’t be going back to the saloon. There’s someone else who wants you more.”

Xie Lian shuddered. There was only one person who would have put money on him and sent people after him. The resolve he had felt only moments ago vanished as icy dread washed over him.

“I will only give you one warning,” said Hua Cheng, his words coming out through gritted teeth.

Robert snickered. “You’re outnumbered.”

Hua Cheng murmured something under his breath, so quiet Xie Lian almost didn’t catch what he said. “Do you trust me?” he asked in the same breath.

Xie Lian’s eyes went wide. He curled his fingers into the scarf around his neck and nodded to himself. “Completely,” he breathed.

“Three,” Hua Cheng said, his body not betraying a hint of movement or tension. Xie Lian slid his gaze to the side of the street where he had seen two horses tied to a post. When Hua Cheng said two, Xie Lian had inched his hands up to where Hua Cheng’s belt was. The moment the word one left Hua Cheng’s lips, Xie Lian snatched the knife sheathed sideways on Hua Cheng’s belt and bolted for the horses. Gunshots rang out and startled both Xie Lian and the horses.

Mustering all of his strength, Xie Lian grabbed the reins tied around the post and swung the wickedly sharp blade down, drawing it against the leather and severing the reins in one movement. He could hear the men in the street yelling, the sounds of pain mingling with the shouts of anger. He didn’t turn around until he had urged the horse to move to where he could jump onto a porch and clamber into the saddle.

In the street, one of Robert’s men was lying dead in a pool of his own blood, and another was howling in pain beside him. Robert and the other two men had run for cover after being driven back by Hua Cheng’s expert aim and quick draw.

“San Lang!” Xie Lian cried, reining in the horse and trying his best to keep his seat.

Hua Cheng sprinted over and vaulted into the saddle behind Xie Lian, then gathered up the reins and shouted. “Yah!” He smacked the horse on the rump, and the pair took off at a gallop through the street.

“Where will we go?” Xie Lian called from where he held onto the pommel of the saddle, nestled snug between Hua Cheng’s arms.

“Not to Chinatown,” Hua Cheng replied, switching the reins to one hand so he could wrap an arm around Xie Lian’s waist. Xie Lian sucked in a breath of surprise at the gesture before finding out what Hua Cheng’s intentions were the next moment.

Hua Cheng pulled back on the reins and kicked the horse on the right flank, urging it to pull up short and wheel around to the left before he spurred it forward again. Galloping back in the direction they had just fled from, Xie Lian’s face drained of color as he saw Robert and his remaining men charging at them.

“Hold on,” Hua Cheng said, and Xie Lian steeled himself for whatever was about to happen. Hua Cheng extended his arm over Xie Lian’s shoulder and leveled his revolver.

The gesture was enough to make Robert and his men panic. They split off from the main road, but Xie Lian was certain they wouldn’t lose them so easily.

“Do you know how to load a revolver?” Hua Cheng asked as he retracted his arm.

Xie Lian felt miserable. “No,” he lamented.

“No worries.”

They rode some distance before Hua Cheng pulled up to a stop. He dismounted, reached up to take Xie Lian by the waist to help lower him to the ground, then shoved the horse by the rump to get it to trot out of sight. Neither of them spoke as they hurried into the scaffolded building Hua Cheng had brought them to.

“I want you to go hide upstairs, as high as you can go,” Hua Cheng said, pulling out his revolver and ammo to begin reloading.

Xie Lian’s heart sank. “San Lang, I can’t let you get hurt because of me,” he said. “This will only cause you more trouble in the future —”

“Gege,” Hua Cheng said, taking Xie Lian by the shoulders, “I need you to hear me. I won’t let them put their hands on you, and I certainly won’t let you turn yourself in.”

“You don’t understand,” Xie Lian said, sorrow welling up from deep inside him. “The man who wants me, he won’t stop. He’s the reason I don’t have my papers. He… he killed my parents.”

Hua Cheng’s eye flashed. “Oh, gege. I had a feeling, but what that man said out in the street, and now what you’ve said, confirms it.”

Xie Lian looked at him in confusion.

“Gege, did you never notice?” Hua Cheng brushed aside his hair, blown wild from their ride, to reveal an eyepatch over his right eye.

Xie Lian’s breath caught in his throat. Before he could stop himself, he reached out to ghost his fingertips over the eyepatch. “What happened?”

The sound of hooves thundering nearer ripped their attention back to their present situation.

“Go,” Hua Cheng commanded. “I’ll tell you everything after they’re dead.”

Seeing the way Hua Cheng whipped around to face the entrance of the building convinced Xie Lian that it was better for both of them that he do as Hua Cheng said. He didn’t have a gun of his own, and if Hua Cheng was determined not to let Xie Lian turn himself in, then he ought to stay out of the way. The last thing he wanted was for something to go wrong because of him and cause Hua Cheng’s actions to get thrown back in his face.

Before he cleared the first set of stairs, Xie Lian looked back to see Hua Cheng tucking his revolver back into its holster. He looked composed and determined, his movements steady. From the ground he picked up a length of rope the builders had left on site and slung it onto his shoulder. Finally, he stepped back to hide behind a finished doorway, and Xie Lian quietly clambered up the remaining stairs.

No sooner had Xie Lian’s foot cleared the landing than he heard the same angry voices from before. Whether or not they had seen the horse Xie Lian and Hua Cheng had rode in on didn’t matter; the men had managed to find them, and they were out for blood.

“Hua Chun, we know you’re here, you rat,” came Robert’s voice. “If you send that doll out, we might even think of letting you live.”

Xie Lian crouched down where he was and held his breath.

“If you come in here, I guarantee you will not leave with your lives,” Hua Cheng said, his words floating out to meet the men like specters in the dark.

Robert growled his displeasure. “You think you’re worth somethin’, don’t you? You’re not worth anything, unless it’s dead. I don’t like any of your kind, but I especially don’t like you.”

“Come gamble with me, then,” called Hua Cheng. “See if you can win a quick death.”

Out of patience, Robert signalled his men forward, each one taking one side of the entrance. Inside, Hua Cheng waited for them, revolver cocked and ready.

“You don’t know who you’re up against,” Robert said, creeping up to the front door. “Even if you manage to kill me today, that man won’t stop till he has that pretty thing you’re hiding from us. You ought to know,” he said, his words containing a cruel smile, “seeing as you had to give something up to him before.”

Hua Cheng did not respond. He waited where he was and listened. There was only one way into this building, unless Robert and his men wanted to try climbing in through the unfinished windows, but that seemed unlikely. Climbing would be too clumsy and would leave them wide open; entering through the front door posed its own risks, but it was still a better choice.

Sure enough, Hua Cheng heard the subtle creak of wood under pressure, the dull thump of a boot heel on the floor. It was a long moment before the next sound of movement came. Like a chameleon testing out where it would place its next step, whoever was coming into the building first was being extremely cautious.

Caution made no difference. Hua Cheng threw his shooting arm forward, popped his head around the door frame, and fired. The bullet went right through the man’s right shoulder, and a volley of bullets followed with an accompanying shout of pain. Hua Cheng dashed across to the other side of the room while the noise of the revolver firing masked the sound of his own movement. Robert and his remaining henchman rushed into the building and fired at the spot Hua Cheng had been standing at just a few seconds prior before turning on their heels when Hua Cheng fired at them from the other side of the room.

One shot missed Robert’s crony, but the other hit its mark and the man went down.

“Hua Chun, you bastard!” Robert roared. “Face me like a man!” He ran forward and caught a glimpse of Hua Cheng’s legs almost out of sight on the stairs and fired at them. Two bullets missed Robert when he ran up the stairs, and when he tried to fire back, he found he had run out of shots. He flipped his revolver around to hold it by the barrel, fully intending to use the handle as a bludgeon.

Upstairs, Hua Cheng pressed himself up against a wall, doing his best to blend into the scaffolding in the room. He could feel eyes on him, but he refused to turn around.

Robert stormed into the room. When he was right in front of Hua Cheng, Hua Cheng reached out to grab him, and the two grappled with each other. The two men wrestled for control of Robert’s revolver, their grunts and snorts of exertion echoing through the room to land around Xie Lian where he crouched in the shadows.

Hua Cheng let out a snarl when Robert landed a solid hit on him and knocked his own revolver from his hand. Hua Cheng only felt fury.

Xie Lian bit back a whimper. He was opposed to violence, and seeing Hua Cheng fight like this for him was too much. He wanted to call out to him, to tell him to stop, but he couldn’t.

The two men broke apart, giving Robert just enough time to wipe blood from his nose before Hua Cheng was on him again. This time, Hua Cheng whaled on him with the coil of rope, beating Robert back towards the fully scaffolded part of the room. Taking advantage of the lull in Robert’s attack, he launched the coil of rope over a ceiling beam and tugged the free end down. In a fluid motion, he created a lasso with one end, then abandoned the rope altogether to meet Robert’s head-on charge.

They clashed together, hands locking around each other’s arms. Robert spat and cursed, spittle flying from his lips. Hua Cheng looked grim as he turned in Robert’s grip to hook a leg around in such a way that he could jam the spur on the back of his boot into Robert’s calf. The move was surprising enough that Robert loosened his grip just enough that Hua Cheng was able to get the upper hand and pull him towards the rope. Unaware of the new danger he was in, Robert let go of Hua Cheng to try a different approach, but it was a fatal mistake.

Hua Cheng used the lapse to grab up the lasso he had made and flung it around Robert’s neck. He danced backwards as Robert pursued, then yanked on the rope to tighten the loop with a snap. The knot pressed down on Robert’s throat making his eyes go wide with surprise before alarm set in. Hua Cheng tore his arm out of Robert’s grasp and tugged on the rope which dragged Robert backwards on his feet until he was under the beam the rope was threaded over. Hua Cheng kept tension on the rope even as he slid his hands down it, allowing himself the room to move further away from Robert.

Choking and spluttering, Robert struggled against the rope crushing his windpipe. He stood on the tips of his toes, clawing at the rope with one hand while feeling frantically around his belt with the other.

“Lost something?” Hua Cheng asked, his breath coming in hard. In his hand was a knife. Reflected in Robert’s eyes was a dawning dread. With a careless throw, the knife landed point down in front of Robert’s feet. Hua Cheng bent down and picked up his revolver.

“It looks like your gamble paid off,” he spat, aiming the gun. “You won a reasonably quick death.”

Bang.

Robert’s body went limp, his full, dead weight dragging at the rope. Hua Cheng let go, and the body hit the ground, where it lay crumpled in the growing pool of blood.

Silence fell over the building.

A feeble voice sounded from the far side of the room, instantly drawing Hua Cheng’s attention.

“San Lang,” Xie Lian called.

“Gege,” Hua Cheng breathed, his feet carrying him to within a few paces before where Xie Lian sat with his back pressed to the wall. Hua Cheng stopped, his eye going wide as he took in Xie Lian’s expression before it clouded over with darkness. He holstered his revolver and glared at the floor in front of Xie Lian’s feet like he was cursing it. “This San Lang understands that what he has done might be unforgivable in gege’s eyes,” he said. Everything about his voice and the way he stood gave off the energy of a soldier admitting their failure on the battlefield before their commander. “This lowly one would understand if gege saw him as a monster and never wanted to be in his presence again.”

Xie Lian blinked in shock at this new facet of Hua Cheng’s character. “San Lang… you could never be a monster to me,” he said after a moment. When Hua Cheng didn’t look up, Xie Lian continued. “San Lang, please, look at me.”

When Hua Cheng met Xie Lian’s gaze, it was with pain, loss, and sorrow marking his features. “I killed people in front of you, gege,” he choked out, “it’s unacceptable. I didn’t know what else to do.” He looked utterly miserable.

Xie Lian drew in a breath and steadied himself. “I see,” he said. “Do you make a habit of killing people?” he asked.

Hua Cheng frowned and shook his head. “Only when I must,” he responded.

“Mn. Have you put yourself in this kind of position with someone else before?” Xie Lian continued.

“No,” Hua Cheng replied without hesitation. “Only for you, gege.”

“I see.” Xie Lian pushed off against the wall to stand up. “If that’s the case, then there is nothing San Lang has to feel bad about. I for one am glad not to be dead,” he said, then with a wry grin added, “or in the hands of abusers.”

Some of the loss and sorrow cleared from Hua Cheng’s expression, but he still didn’t move or speak.

“You’re a very good shot,” Xie Lian remarked, gesturing to the revolver still gripped in Hua Cheng’s hand, “and that’s a very nice gun.”

Hua Cheng let out a snort of disbelief, then held the revolver up so Xie Lian could see it more clearly. “Gege would look upon such an awful thing?”

“This is what helped keep us safe,” Xie Lian said, brushing his fingers over the smooth handle. “Does it have a name?” he asked.

“A name, as though it were a cultivator’s sword?” Hua Cheng said with a laugh.

“Mhm.” Xie Lian smiled back.

“What can I say, I grew up reading cultivation novels as an escape,” Hua Cheng admitted. “Its name is E’ming.”

“E’ming,” Xie Lian repeated, savoring the name. “It’s very fitting,” he said.

Hua Cheng gazed down at Xie Lian, heart racing. “Gege, my hands have been stained for a long time,” he said.

“Was it out of necessity?” Xie Lian asked, fingers tracing the length of the revolver’s barrel.

Hua Cheng shivered despite himself, his gaze fixing on Xie Lian’s slender fingers. “Not always,” he admitted, voice low, dormant danger hidden within it.

“Mn, for good reason then?” Xie Lian asked, his fingers pausing at the tip of the barrel.

“What if I said I always had a reason, even if it wasn’t a particularly good one?” Hua Cheng replied, mesmerized by Xie Lian’s hands.

“That would be good enough for me,” Xie Lian said.

“Why?” Hua Cheng breathed, his voice turning husky.

Xie Lian ran his fingers back up the barrel, pausing just before they touched Hua Cheng’s hand. “Because I trust you,” he said simply.

Hua Cheng looked into Xie Lian’s brown doe eyes and felt himself melt under their molten gaze. “Gege… may I…” he began, but trailed off.

“Ask,” Xie Lian whispered, stepping into Hua Cheng’s space, his face tipping up.

“May I kiss you?” Hua Cheng asked.

“Yes,” said Xie Lian, the word floating through lips Hua Cheng believed had been cast by angels.

Hua Cheng swallowed down the tiny sound of surprise Xie Lian made when their lips pressed together and savored the taste of him. He took it slow, afraid to misstep now that Xie Lian had opened himself up to him. Like a pair of swans, the two wove together in a delicate dance, their tender exploration of each other so starkly juxtaposed by the brutal extraction the gold rush embodied all around them. They didn’t take anything from the other, only ventured in with genuine curiosity before retreating again. No matter how carefully they tread, however, the mark they left on each other was indelible, writ in blood and gunpowder.

Foreheads pressed together, the pair shared an exhalation, lips turning upwards in giddy disbelief.

“San Lang,” Xie Lian whispered once his head cleared of rosy haze, “he’ll keep hunting for me.”

Hua Cheng nuzzled into Xie Lian’s neck and breathed deeply of his scent. “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill anyone that comes after gege,” he murmured and was caught off guard when Xie Lian giggled.

“I trust you’ll have a good reason,” Xie Lian said, tipping his head so Hua Cheng could more easily access his neck.

“Gege is the best reason,” Hua Cheng said, mouthing along Xie Lian’s throat, stopping when he reached his Adam’s apple to press a lingering kiss there.

“San Lang… did he really take your eye?” Xie Lian asked. He didn’t want to ruin the moment, but he needed to know.

“Mn, in a way,” Hua Cheng said. “He didn’t physically take it, but he was the reason it’s gone now.”

Xie Lian hummed, the sound reverberating in his throat and vibrating against Hua Cheng’s lips. Xie Lian could feel him smile.

“Gege, why don’t we go back to the saloon,” Hua Cheng suggested. “I would much rather kiss you in my office. Yin Yu would hate that.”

Xie Lian giggled. “Were you and Yin Yu…?” he asked, trailing off when he caught Hua Cheng’s look of mock exasperation.

“Certainly not,” he said, dropping the act after a beat and taking Xie Lian’s hand to lead him downstairs. “He came to me after a situation he was in came to a head. It was completely by chance, but he proved himself to be a valuable asset, so I kept him at the saloon fulltime. He runs a lot of things behind the scenes now.”

They walked past Robert and the other dead men, then found the horse they had stolen.

Hua Cheng turned to face Xie Lian, his expression only partly serious. “Is gege certain he wants to join this San Lang in a life of shady business and mischief?” he asked. “I heard people are making a good fortune digging for gold, so gege could always strike out on his own.”

Xie Lian grinned at Hua Cheng, his eyes gleaming. “That’s a fool’s dream,” he said, “and I’m not a gambling man.”

Hua Cheng grinned back, grasped Xie Lian by the waist, and lifted him onto the horse before swinging himself up behind him. “We still have to find out what gege’s vice is, you know,” he said, clicking his tongue to get the horse into a trot, then buried his nose into Xie Lian’s neck.

“I think I might have an idea of what it is,” Xie Lian said, butterflies swooping in his stomach.

“I can’t wait to find out,” Hua Cheng murmured.

Behind them, the building with its resident dead faded into the distance, and before them lay the promise of chance and hope. With a lucky gamble, anything could be possible, and with a discerning eye, real gold would gleam in the face of its imitators.