Fluffy WangXian Oneshots Book Two

Lost And Found

From the moment he was born, Wei Ying captured the hearts of every person he met. As a baby, merely days old, he held onto his parents with both hands, charming them with his bright silver eyes and beautiful round rosy cheeks, his curly dark hair that morphed into unruly waves, a fluffy cloud on top of his head. His cute button nose would scrunch up adorably when he wanted them, and they willingly fell in love.

He loved to laugh and his mother loved to toss him up in the air, their home filled with warmth and happiness and the sound of their gorgeous baby boy giggling with helpless laughter. His chubby fat fingers would grasp her red ribbon and tug it until she gave in and gave it to him.

Their days were spent travelling when they could, until they decided to settle down in Yiling when Wei Ying was three years old. It was a small, growing town and it felt like the right place to begin their new life together.

They had a lucky escape once, narrowly avoiding a collision on the highway because Wei Ying seated in the back in his baby seat, had somehow managed to release his seat belt, and Wei Changze had to pull over so that Cangse Sanren could secure him again.

In the seconds that passed, a heavy Goods vehicle crashed into the bridge they would have been on and then, would have plunged to their deaths had their car been in front. As it was, Wei Changze had called the emergency services and pulled the driver to safety instead.

That day, they returned home shaken and traumatised at what a tragedy could have befallen their little family. Only Wei Ying carried on playing with his toy shapes, babbling nonsense. But there was a single moment when Cangse Sanren looked up and met his eyes, and there was a flash of recognition so bright, so fierce, that she blinked and then it was gone.

She told herself that it was only her imagination, that such a wealth of knowledge could never be real; XianXian was only three years old, after all. He was a regular baby, wasn't he?

He certainly appeared as such, playing with them, listening intently when they read to him at night and sleeping peacefully until the morning. Her little YingYing was a golden child, hardly ever crying except for that one time in the marketplace when he had a full-on tantrum about the little toy drum he'd seen at somebody's stall.

There were other instances too, when she suspected all was not as it appeared with her beautiful baby boy, but they were so scattered in amongst the days, weeks and years as he grew up, that she forgot all about them.

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Wei Ying dreams.

His nights are just as active as his days, lost to the kaleidoscope of images bombarding him with an urgency he cannot explain. When he was younger, he couldn't remember his dreams at all. But his subconscious awakens when he's three years old, and after that, he does not forget a single one.

There are mountains, there are clouds, and there is music. In his mind's eye, he sees a red ribbon fluttering in the wind, all tangled up with a white one. He sees a guqin with a jade tassel, and he remembers a black flute with the red tassel, a jade lotus flower hanging from its centre on the end. But the most shocking image of all is a pair of golden eyes, so fiercely protective, shining with a limitless love.

He doesn't know who that person is. But in his heart of hearts, he knows that the person in his dreams is very important.

Then one day, when Wei Ying is six years old, he wakes up and begins to draw.

The previous night, he had dreamed of a little boy sitting in the frozen night, snow falling all around him as he waited outside a dark little cottage. He cried in his sleep, his mother told him later, and Wei Ying had tried to smile.