Every year when the months roll by from the icy sickly horrible winters to the warm stupidly romantic spring and then to the unbearably hot sticky summers toning back down to autumn; specifically October 28th, where the air still feels hot at dawn and chilly at dusk, the Dong household always feels like the second New year's. It is after all, the birthday of the youngest son of the family Dong Sicheng.
A tall lean muscular man with doe eyes and one pointy ear. A ridiculously goofy smile with gentle manners and a seemingly shy persona. When in reality, he was a self absorbed piece of privileged little bastard. The man of the day Dong Sicheng was without a doubt, the son of a wealthy man. Exuding an aura completely tranquil and calm, most of the time standing at exactly six foot, Sicheng carries himself exceptionally well. He walks powerful strides and his head held high. He was according to outsiders, a shy kid. But all it takes is a few meetings to know that Sicheng isn't shy as how most people describes him and that he just prefers listening over talking about himself.
The 28th morning in particular always starts with the family maids dusting and polishing every single furniture from the crack of dawn. Pillows and curtains were replaced with more luxurious ones. Plants were watered and wiped down, paintings and antiques polished. Sicheng woke up to the familiar sound of dishes being clattered here and there, taken out from their bubble wraps for this specific dinner to happen tonight, not so subtle footsteps rushing about. Outside his room door the maids were whisper-shouting, hurrying over every little task. Sicheng chose to lay in bed till 10am. Last night he had written a long letter to himself talking about his experiences and anything on his mind really. And by the time he was done with his letter, the clock had already struck past 2am accompanied by his constant turning in bed, Sicheng hadn't really slept.
By lunch time the whole house had sparkled. The man of the day; Sicheng, emerged from his room dressed in silky blue pyjama set with gold detailing at the sleeves and a tiger embroidered in golden thread at the back. His mother led out a sound between frustration and desperation, a quiet protest as Sicheng completely ignored it, sauntered past her while greeting the little children who were dumbstruck by the glittering tiger, illuminating at the sunlight.
Because Sicheng started his day at the early hours of noon, he chose to ignore the fights, the disagreements, the tantrums, the not so subtle heated glances his family exchanged to him and to each other.
Sicheng plays dumb, he always has.
