"— I'll come back... To look at the stars... with you.
— Promise?
— Yes... Promise."
***
It was summer, and the sister of one of his close friends had invited Émile to attend her tenth wedding anniversary party. To keep an eye on her beloved little brother, she had told him. Dressed in a handsome pine green suit, glass in hand, Émile watched without much concentration as the happy woman waltzed with her husband. He didn't know why, but from the beginning, he felt troubled, almost... lost. As if something in his memories of yesteryear was stirring his soul. His intuition had never failed him. As the minutes passed, his heart beat faster and faster. Until he saw him. Him.
He was a man of good stature, not unlike his own, but at that moment he seemed taller. He had entered the room like a king, and Émile had been unable to take his eyes off him for the past five minutes. And who, despite himself, reminded him of the person he had once loved. For too long, he had preferred to forget part of it.
When Gabriel entered the room with his friends, a figure with bobbed hair caught his attention. His own heart leapt out of his chest, and memories of a bygone era, which had accompanied him throughout his new life, resurfaced.
Their eyes met and remained locked together for several minutes, which seemed like hours to them. With trembling legs and shortness of breath, Émile looked away from the magnificent eyes of the man he had recognized: Gabriel Hano, sole heir to the Hano hotel company.
His heart pounding, Émile fled from this bewitching sight, which reminded him of so much torment and happiness. Joys so intoxicating, so captivating that he left, but not without casting one last glance at the figure surrounded by people.
Gabriel watched helplessly as the person he had longed for for years fled. Not that he would tell his acquaintances that he had followed him as soon as he had regained his memories. He had recognized him immediately. For Émile looked exactly like his body had looked more than a thousand years ago. It was above all those eyes filled with a burning fire that had attracted him when they first met—as emperor and vassal.
Regaining his composure, Gabriel apologized and headed for the spot where his little runaway monarch had moved.
Feeling suffocated, Émile looked for a place where he could relax, far from the music and, above all, away from the man who reminded him of his lost love. He went out into the hotel gardens and sat down on the edge of a fountain. There, in the calm, he allowed himself to breathe. Émile stretched out his legs, leaned back against the stones of the structure, and gazed up at the sparkling sky.
A light breeze picked up, and Émile began to hum a tune he knew by heart and sang when he felt overwhelmed. He was so focused that he didn't hear the shoes crunching on the gravel.
For his part, Gabriel had tried as best he could to avoid the friendly calls and pats from people as he passed by. On the way, he had chatted briefly with the groom, one of his high school friends, but the urge had become urgent. That primal desire he felt in the presence of his emperor. His own. And above all, what he had never forgotten, not even for a moment: that promise that made him tremble just thinking about it.
His earliest memories of his leader were when they had first met. They had hated each other. So much!
Their two strong personalities had not helped them, quite the contrary. Over the years, he as Prime Minister and prince of the blood, and Wāng Baí (Émile) as the young emperor, had forged them. The passionate discussions they had had were what he liked to remember when his feelings became too heavy to bear.
Over time, he had discovered in the man he saw as his friend a kind of melancholy that he could not dispel despite his efforts to do so.
Then, on a starry night, Han Yuè (Gabriel) decided to take this charismatic man out for a short horse ride. They found themselves on the outskirts of the imperial capital of Hang Zhou, contemplating its lights. And it was there, under the stars, that his Wāng-er had declared his feelings and, above all, his love. It was then that they shared their first kiss. A caress of their lips, so soft and yet so strong, that they could not imagine at that moment that their story would last.
Having managed to escape the room and its occupants, Gabriel found himself in the peaceful garden. His steps led him to a fountain. There, he stopped short, a pleasant melody piercing the silence of dusk. He knew this tune very well, so well that his heart sank just hearing it. And that voice singing it... That deep, warm accent he had missed so much after that fateful night. Tragic. These sad thoughts took him back several centuries.
"It was an evening that had started off very well, to say the least, when Wāng Baí's closest aide had suddenly betrayed them. The meeting the lovers were supposed to have to plan a counterattack against several corrupt ministers was cut short when an alarm sounded. A fire had broken out in the direction of the throne room, a sign of the monarch's omnipotence.
As Wāng Baí and Han Yuè rushed to the scene of the accident, a large number of guards surrounded them. Wāng Baí and Han Yuè, the emperor and his vassal, both drew their swords and stood back to back, protecting themselves from possible treachery.
Weapons in hand, proud, they rushed towards their enemies, the chief eunuch Li and his followers. Not a word was spoken, but their fury in battle spoke volumes about who they were when their identities as monarch and vassal fell away.
Two similar people, yet so different. Two souls who loved each other with such burning, passionate fire that it was difficult to separate them.
The battle, or rather the slaughter, was bloody. As soon as a soldier approached one of them from behind, the other killed him, spilling as much blood as there were bodies. But as we know, the flame is powerful, but it only takes a spark to end it all. All it takes is a cut, a start, a grunt for everything to stop.
Turning around, Han Yue, his clothes covered in blood, witnessed a scene that, thousands of years later, even after all this time, still haunted him in his nightmares.
The sword of Chief Eunuch Li, the emperor's closest aide, Wāng Baí, was plunged hatefully into the chest of the man he once considered his master. Surprised, Wāng Baí couldn't believe what was happening, but it was already too late. He fell heavily to the ground, covered in corpses and dust.
Han Yuè rushed toward his king—his Wang-er—but a blade pierced his side and then his back. Despite his injuries, General Yuè continued to advance, forcing himself to go further, to find his beloved, but a fatal blow brought him down.
He crawled toward his beloved, drawing on his fierce willpower to reach the man he loved. His task was accomplished when their hands touched. Drawing on his last ounce of strength, Wāng Baí, the fallen monarch of Hangzhou, opened his mouth to utter a few words, but no sound came out.
Han Yuè slowly, exhausting his remaining energy, moved closer. Then he embraced his companion, whom he had cherished and whom his soul still desired, in a burning embrace. The emperor, who behind his coldness hid a wise and extremely kind man, said:
"I'll come back... to watch the stars... with you," he said with difficulty.
"Promise?" asked Wang Bai silently, unable to utter a word.
"Yes... Promise."
Wāng Baí stopped breathing, and the traitor Li delivered a final blow with his sword to Han Yuè's chest. And that was the end.
Émile felt someone approaching him until he could hear nothing else. His heart had started beating again, deafening him. Then, with extreme caution, he turned around. In front of him stood a man of the same height, with short hair, standing still, upright. The name Gabriel came to him first, but something in his mind begged him to reveal the name that came back to him.
After much hesitation, he finally decided to call him. Him. This person who reminded him so much of the man for whom he had felt such strong, burning emotions. Because the person standing before him was the one he wanted to find again.
The one he cherished for his warm protection, his fiery heart. In him, he had found everything he lacked, everything he wanted. Just to be passionate about what he represented and not for the emperor he had been.
His heart pounding, his lips trembling, Émile finally found the strength to utter the ancient and fabulous name of his lover. Not Gabriel, but Han Yuè, his Sun, his Yuè.
"Han Yuè," he smiled, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Gabriel, or Han Yuè, finally emerged from his dark memories. That voice, like a magic spell, lit up his world once again. The two men looked at each other, devouring each other with their eyes until they could no longer bear it.
Past and present, Wāng Baí and Han Yuè, Émile and Gabriel. Two deeply connected spirits, so similar, yet so different, thanks to the power of a promise. A commitment to the stars. But above all, through the power of their love, they fell into each other's arms. And as if each had found a lifeline, they kissed until they were breathless.
Their lips parted, their eyes met, and their souls vibrated in unison. They had been reunited after a thousand years of suffering, united by fate, by the commitment they had made to each other, and by the stars that had kindly protected their love. This desire of one man for another.