Sit Softly On Your Shoulder

Chapter 35: The Right Word

As they walk out of the little private room, the first notes of the song that Lan Zhan had discovered from the family archives begins to play.

It is a duet of the guqin and a flute, a dizi, to be exact. Deeper notes are pulled from the seven-stringed instrument providing a foundation, a canvas upon which the lighter, higher melody of the dizi begins to paint a picture of devotion. Whoever wrote this song wrote it from their heart, an outpouring of love like a tidal wave. Their emotions, the yearning both a celebration and something they could not keep inside them.

The music is perfect for this moment, and reaches them as they approach the rows and rows of chairs filled with the guests who have been invited to share this most special of days with them. It's a melody that reaches into Wei Ying's ribs, through the gaps in the bones to tug at his heart, to make it stutter and then pick up the beat but only to jog faster. They're walking slowly, each step measured and sure, the weight of their bodies grounding them, the feeling of Lan Zhan's palm firm and steady, holding his hand and chasing away his nerves. It's good that Lan Zhan is holding him down because Wei Ying thinks he might just fly away on the wings of his happiness.

The song lifts Wei Ying up as if it was written only for him, the expression of one soul reaching out towards its other half. To show a depth of feelings that could never be voiced, not through the weaker medium of paltry words. This song makes his heart sing, answering back with a reply all of its own. Yes, it cries, and reaches forward towards Lan Zhan like two lovers meeting across a magpie bridge built just for the two of them.

When they reach the huge golden statue of the Buddha, they bow once as a greeting and the priest sprinkles water over their heads in a mini purification ceremony. Perhaps it is needed, Wei Ying thinks, smiling quietly. But he will not allow himself to think of anything negative today. This day belongs to him and Lan Zhan, and he's going to keep it that way.

Two red silk cushions are placed in front of them and they kneel, their robes naturally settling around them in a graceful arc. The priest says some words but Wei Ying isn't really listening to him; he's too consumed by the thought that this is really happening. Right now.

They're getting married.

They bow once to the Heavens.

Their second bow is to their parents. Two sets of traditional tablets made from a deep lacquered cherry wood and carved with golden characters, four people who are responsible for creating them, Lan Zhan and Wei Ying. Lan Qiren has outdone himself in ordering these priceless gifts.

Madam Lan and Qingheng-Jun, and Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze.

Lan Zhan offers up a prayer towards them, expressing his regret that they aren't here to celebrate with them. But he also thanks them; his mother's shop is the only reason he was able to meet Wei Ying, and be here at all.

Wei Ying expresses his regret at the delay of making these tablets, and he wishes that his parents were alive to meet Lan Zhan, his Zhiji.

The epiphany hits him square between his eyes, and he shakes from the magnitude of the realisation. For a long time now, he's been trying to think of a word that could describe perfectly what Lan Zhan means to him. Certainly, they are best friends, but what they share is far more, a deeper connection that surpasses a mere friendship.

Soulmates.

Designed for each other in a way that only the Universe could create. Two people who fit together so well, despite their differences, the quirks of both personalities being accepted and accommodated for, speaking of a unity that spreads over the course of their past lives.

And while they're bowing, Uncle Qiren and Wen Popo are brought to stand beside the tablets bearing their parents' names. Two people who have taken on the responsibility of parenthood in all but name, standing there to be honoured at Lan Zhan and Wei Ying's request, the result of a phone call made to a half-asleep head priest in the middle of the night.