Chapter Text
Xie Lian was caught off guard by the heavenly light and the arrival of the emperor, and the supreme ghost even more so, barely managing to get his sword out to block the oncoming attack. With the last-minute defense, he got knocked off balance and barely steadied himself before the god swung out again.
The ghost was frustratingly able to keep up with the emperor, however, he was clearly at a disadvantage. Jun Wu would undoubtedly be the victor, but the supreme was clearly determined to try to change his fate.
After the initial shock, Xie Lian turned away. The prince couldn’t even bring himself to care about the once-in-a-lifetime spectacle of watching such an intense battle of swords between the god he admired and the ghost who tried to ruin his kingdom.
He didn’t feel relief either that the shackle around his neck had seemed to release with the holy light. Even without it, he still was having difficulty breathing, consumed in guilt and mortification at the actions he had to take.
His eyes were then drawn to his beheaded cousin, whose face had truly rested with that unpleasant expression. It reminded him of his mother lecturing them several times to not pull such faces lest they get stuck forever.
He leaned down and tried to smooth out the expression himself, wincing as the blood from his now-quickly healing hand smeared along with Qi Rong’s, that had been spattered along his chin and cheeks.
He stood again once the eyes and mouth were properly closed, and tried to tune back in to his surroundings little by little.
He sensed Hua Cheng and Feng Xin approach silently, and knew all of them were unsure of what to say. What could even be said?
The crown prince had killed his cousin with his own bloodied hand.
This wasn’t exactly a scenario either of his companions had been prepared for. They definitely didn’t know it was an option to begin with, but almost the entire trip had Xie Lian steeling himself for it just in case he couldn’t talk Qi Rong down.
Like hell he would allow another disaster for his country to slip by him because of his soft heart.
Feng Xin excused himself to go to the market in hopes of finding a coffin, or at the very least something to wrap the body in, as they would be returning with him.
Xie Lian barely registered him leaving to the task and could only stand there with the faint awareness that Hua Cheng stood nearby.
A very small stream of fond memories began to flow through his mind as he continued to watch the blood pour out of the severed body.
Qi Rong had been so small once. So sad, so lonely, so eager to trust and be loved by his family. Now, he’d died as a grown man with a foul attitude and horrid intentions to hurt others thanks to his hatred towards Yong’an and his illusions of Xie Lian shattering.
It was tragic to know he likely wouldn’t even be mourned by many. At least, not genuinely.
Xie Lian really hadn’t wanted to kill him, even with all Qi Rong had done. Not until there was no other choice to stop it all. However, he knew that even if his cousin had somehow been silenced, he definitely would have tried again.
His grudges had always been out of the realm of understanding, and his actions even more so.
The background noises of clashing swords soon ceased, and he looked over to see the emperor lunge for a killing blow. Just before the sword pierced into the heart of the heavily damaged creature, he disappeared!
A supreme ghost managed to slip away from the heavenly emperor, who seemed just as flabbergasted at the unpredicted turn.
How did he have enough spiritual energy left to pull something like that, and why hadn’t he used it from the start? Had he truly thought he had a shot at winning against the most powerful martial god?
Jun Wu looked extremely displeased at the development, looking around for any sign or trace of the ghost before giving a resigned sigh. He sheathed his sword and sent a telepathic message, likely to one of the scholar gods.
He then approached them, taking out an urn covered in markings that Xie Lian hadn’t seen before, and opened it overtop the dead body. “Capture,” he muttered, and the writhing, unsettling dark masses of souls drifted from beneath Qi Rong’s sleeves and into the urn.
The god then locked the device with a spell and tucked it away to likely deal with later on. Or maybe it was to study the curse? Xie Lian was hopeful it might be the latter; if the heavenly emperor was able to figure out how it worked, the supreme ghost would only be fearsome for battle prowess and could one day be defeated.
He also wanted to believe it could be figured out so the souls of those he wasn’t able to save could be set free.
Jun Wu finally spoke to him. “He got away, but all of us in heaven will be keeping our eyes out for him. You were correct of how much of a menace he is. Even though I was aware of his ranking, it seems I underestimated his skill and tenacity.”
The prince could see Hua Cheng scowling from his peripheral vision, clearly displeased with his words. To be honest, Xie Lian was a little frustrated himself at not being taken quite as seriously as he should have been when he’d expressed his worsening concerns.
Especially when it was clear that being shackled meant that Xie Lian was unlikely to be able to deal with him alone.
“Xianle,” he continued, “You’ve prevented a second wave of that horrid disease and saved the rest of your country from going into ruin. I’m quite impressed; I didn’t expect you to be worthy of being a god again so soon-"
"I’m not,” Xie Lian quickly interrupted, hanging his head. “My lord, I’m not worthy. Yes, I prevented a second wave, but at the cost of my own kin’s blood. I don’t deserve it.”
“Of course you deserve it.”
“I don’t,” he insisted. As much as he wanted to accept, to escape the mortal realm’s problems that were still nipping at his heels, there was no way he could go with a clear conscience. “Keep me banished. I’ll earn my way back some other time if I earn it, but there’s no way I can accept such a thing after a horrendous crime.”
The emperor looked at Hua Cheng before returning his gaze to the prince. “Your deputies will be disappointed to hear it, especially the one who is now waiting for you up there.”
His head raised at that. “Mu Qing! What happened to him? What did he ascend as?”
“Calm down, Xianle,” Jun Wu urged. “Mu Qing, or rather, Xuan Zhen, is now a martial god. He ascended thanks to his battle prowess and his hard work clearing out the remaining spirits of your battlefield. However, he’s being quite unnerving to all who want to interact and congratulate him.”
“Why?”
He only hummed. “If you decide to return, you can see for yourself. However, if you do not, I cannot give further details about heavenly affairs, especially in front of mortals.” With that, he glanced briefly at the boy once more.
“My Lord, I do not want to return because of this, and that is my final decision,” Xie Lian bowed his head again. “I suppose I’ll have to wait until he visits my dreams to get any details,”
“I’m afraid you won’t be able to see him, Xianle. You are as good as mortal if you’re staying, and you are not a high priest. It’s a forbidden interaction.”
Xie Lian paused, aching at the thought of not even being able to have one more conversation with one of his closest friends unless something urgent came up. It wasn’t like he expected Mu Qing to break heaven’s rules in order to chat.
Still, his decision had been made, and he took an audible breath before his voice came out far more firm. “Even so, I will remain here. I appreciate the opportunity, but if I was really to ascend again by fate’s design, it will have to take me there itself.”
There was a brief flicker of annoyance before Jun Wu’s features smoothed again and he nodded. “Very well. However, we’ll need a reason for you to be left here.”
The prince thought for a moment. “How about a friendly spar? It seems my shackle has been released. I feel it might be nice to fight with my full strength once more before it’s sealed again.”
XxxxxxX
The spar ended up being an intense battle between the strongest martial god who’d just gone all-out in a fight against a powerful ghost, and a prince who had his power unlocked once more. Xie Lian had been able to get a few stabs in, but definitely ended up worse for wear, and the emperor allowed him a few minutes for his spiritual energy to heal the cuts and bruises before replacing the shackle.
In the meantime, Qi Rong was properly wrapped and placed in a coffin Feng Xin had been able to find. He and Hua Cheng loaded it in the carriage and watched just in time as Xie Lian accepted the cursed shackle back, feeling his overflowing energy once again suppressed.
He didn’t bother mourning for his lack of power. Even without it, he’d done irreparable damage. Why should he be cleared of his punishment for breaking the rules and failing his kingdom for something so horrible?
“You may be banished from heaven,” Jun Wu said to him as he finished the shackle, “but you are destined to be one of the greatest gods, Xianle. Don’t let something like this stop you for too long.”
“I thank you for your kind words, My Lord, but I will walk my own path. If the universe presents me another opportunity, I will decide if I deserve it at that point.”
With that, he stepped away and bowed once more before walking off to the carriage. Feng Xin and Hua Cheng looked completely ready to go, and he didn’t even need to look back to know when the emperor went back to heaven, the sudden loss of energy in the area being telling enough.
Once he got halfway to the transport, he paused as the sudden dot of pressure on his head. And then another happened. And another. He looked up and winced when something wet dotted his nose, and his eyes widened when he saw a small cloud overhead.
Though it was small, it was plump enough to rain a little, hitting the prince once again before moving along towards the town.
Xie Lian swallowed thickly, his emotions fluctuating in opposite ways. It was finally raining, even if a little. That was an extremely good sign for the future.
However, with the timing, it seemed like it was a human sacrifice that made it rain. Of course, there was no correlation – he’d killed Qi Rong in defense of the people, not as a ritualistic sacrifice.
Still, there was something unsettling about it.
“Let’s go back,” Xie Lian told them quietly before entering the carriage and staring at the coffin inside. He was hit with a wave of remorse and took his seat, never once letting his hand drift from the lid as he willed his cousin’s soul to move along peacefully.
Maybe in his next life, Qi Rong wouldn’t become twisted. Maybe he would even help people instead of condemn them. Maybe he wouldn’t even hurt a fly.
With those ‘what if’s’ and well-wishes swirling through Xie Lian’s mind, the carriage began moving and they made the eventless journey back to the palace, all the while making guesses on what was going to happen upon their return.
Xie Lian knew it wouldn’t be a peaceful reception once he revealed what happened. Damning the country or not, Qi Rong was still a noble. He had the honorary title of prince.
Since Xie Lian was banished from heaven, he expected his parents would hold him to the regular standards again and not only be upset for the loss of a family member, but at the audacity of the killing by a prince’s decision rather than a god’s judgement.
Also, there was a high chance the people in the capital would be furious with the combination of the rumours and the truth; all they might focus on was that one of the princes was killed while trying to enact revenge against Yong’an.
That was what the majority of them had wanted, even if they didn’t like Qi Rong very much.
He did have a general plan on what he wanted to do no matter the reactions he got. Whether his parents were just mad at him or wanted to disown him. Whether the people cared whatsoever about what happened or decided they wanted to riot against him specifically.
Ultimately, though he still ached desperately over all the events, he couldn’t help but be a little relieved his friends would undoubtedly be by his side, willing to forgive and comfort him.
Had they not burst into his room and given him love and reassurance, had they not treated him with understanding and care… He wasn’t sure what shape he would be in if he tried to piece himself back together alone.
His mental state still wasn’t great, even less so thanks to the situation, but it was their unwavering faith and compassion that was helping him push past his shattered heart and do what he felt he needed to.
As much as he cared about the innocent people of Yong’an, those he tried to save from the unfortunate natural conditions for so long, he worried what might’ve happened had his friends not gone to comfort him. Would he have just given up and sat in his room, letting Qi Rong do whatever he wanted?
The worst part was that he’d felt broken enough at the time that he might have. What caring and kind prince just stood by while his people were about to face another crisis, even when past attempts to help made things worse?
Hua Cheng was right before. It was good that he actually tried to do something, even if it blew up in his face. But he couldn’t deny anymore that he was a danger of sorts, and being as involved as he’d been was the wrong move that whole time.
Once they returned to the capital after a somber and uneventful journey, he’d gotten even more resolve to do what he needed to.
“San Lang,” he addressed them as they pulled to a stop at the palace. “You get some rest. Feng Xin, please help me bring Qi Rong to my parents, and will talk with them myself.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea to do it alone?” Feng Xin asked gently. “What if-“
“I appreciate your concern,” he acknowledged, looking between him and Hua Cheng who wore his worry on his face again, “but this is a sensitive family matter before a public one. I’m sure my parents won’t want to react openly with others around.”
The coffin wasn’t very heavy. It was simply too big to carry it comfortably with contents inside. Even through the wood, the smell was extremely unpleasant by now, making their noses scrunch in protest.
However, Xie Lian wasn’t about to rob his parents, specifically his mother, of the option of a last goodbye before the body decomposed past the point of recognition.
There was tension in the palace as he made his way through. The guards and servants still stopped and acknowledged him respectfully as they normally did, but there seemed to be an edge to it, amplified by their unease on seeing a coffin.
They reached a private room within the palace, and the prince dismissed Feng Xin with a grateful yet sad smile. To his surprise, the bodyguard leaned in and gave him a hug before leaving. Just the simplicity of it eased Xie Lian’s nerves and unwound him enough for his lips to quiver.
“Let us know when you’re finished,” Feng Xin requested before finally leaving.
The king and queen arrived soon after receiving an urgent summons, greeting him with hesitant smiles that turned into horrified expressions once they noticed the object he’d brought in.
“Mother, Father… I’m sorry,” he bowed, placing his hand on the lid. “Qi Rong showed up to unleash the Human Face Disease on Yong’an and I was unable to talk any sense into him. The only way to stop another humanitarian crisis…”
The realization dawned on their faces and his mother instantly broke into tears, covering the majority of her face with her hands as she clearly debated on moving closer to interact with the coffin or to stay firm in place to not be assaulted by the smell.
Xie Lian braced himself for his father’s reaction, and as expected, the man’s face began to turn bright red with fury. “Xie Lian, do you know what you’ve done?”
“I did what I had to,” he replied solemnly. His father had to realize he didn’t set out with that as his first solution, right? “There was no other way to prevent it.”
He didn’t pause to consider that and began to yell. “You slay a noble, your relative, to save a bunch of commoners, but you couldn’t do that to the boor who damn near destroyed our entire country?! Disgraceful! How dare you?!”
“Father, he was being manipulated by the same ghost who helped with the majority of the damage Lang Ying had done,” he tried to explain. “The plague could have spread here. It could have gone across the entire country, possibly infecting the entire world! Even the heavenly emperor had to step in!”
“Even the heavenly emperor wouldn’t be so audacious to kill those he was supposed to protect for the ‘greater good’. Between this, the plague camp massacre, and the murder of another noble… I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
The queen gasped and her hands flew out to clutch on her husband’s arm. “Don’t! You know he didn’t do those other things!”
“Did we figure out who did with concrete proof? No. Because of these issues, the city is in chaos, and I’ve spent all week dealing with it. Rumours are already going to be spreading to other countries that our god fell so hard he lost all dignity as a prince as well. And this? Killing your own cousin? I can’t even look at you,” the king ranted before he yanked his arm out of his wife’s grasp, briskly turned away, and stormed out.
Xie Lian had never really been close with his father, but through the war there had been some built up understanding. Now, the rift was even wider than it started, and it was his own fault.
He could feel the tears streaming down his face, but stayed silently staring at his mother, wondering what her next move was. What she would even say.
She tried to wipe her own tears away before beginning to speak. “Your father doesn’t mean it-“
“He does. I know he does,” he hung his head. “I expected as much… Is the city really in chaos?”
She was silent, but when he looked back up, she gave a small nod. “It’s split on what to believe and will probably continue to be like this, now that…” her eyes trailed briefly to the coffin and she choked out another sob.
He finally took his hand off the lid and stood to the side to take her attention away from the coffin. He’d expected his father to take a look at the body, but there was no way he was going to encourage his delicate mother to unless it was something she wanted.
“The ghost is out for me specifically,” he told her. “I believe he manipulated Qi Rong to the point where I had to do this. Kill my cousin or knowingly doom the people I was trying to save… I had to play right into his hands.”
“Oh, darling-“
“He is the only loose thread now that has anything to do with me. I plan on returning the Rain Master’s spiritual device since I can no longer use it, and then I will look for the State Preceptors. I believe it won’t be safe for Xianle if I return without getting rid of that ghost first.”
“No!” she cried, finally moving closer. She awkwardly sidestepped the coffin and embraced him. “I can’t lose you again, especially after losing Rong-er…”
She began to heavily cry again into his shoulder, and he hugged her tighter, noting how she felt so small in his arms. He knew he’d outgrown her long ago, but like this, he wondered how he’d felt so shielded and safe when he was little.
“I do have one request while I’m away,” he brought up gently. Mu Qing wasn’t here to yell at him about it, so… “Take care of Lang Ying for me. I want him to have a good life. I understand if you and Father wouldn’t want to take him in yourselves because of his family, but surely someone in your social circle is looking for a son or even a well-treated attendant?”
She sniffled and let him go, and he saw the contemplative look on her face. “Well… I know Xie Chuanli and his husband were thinking about adoption but didn’t want to deal with whatever your father would have to say about it.”
How hadn’t his uncles come to mind when he was first thinking about this? Perhaps it was wanting to keep Lang Ying in the city, to be able to check in on him every once in a while, though that no longer mattered if he was leaving.
His uncles, though technically royalty, lived elsewhere in Xianle. He hadn’t seen them since he was a young boy.
No matter. He was ready to put it in her hands, if she was willing. “I’m trusting you with Lang Ying’s care, no matter what it may look like. Just, please make sure he will have a better life than before.”
“I promise.” And this time, he fully believed her.
XxxxX
His father calmed down a few days after the three of them went to bury Qi Rong privately, the announcement of his death sent out shortly after.
The prince pulled him aside to tell him of his plans of leaving, and wasn’t surprised at all that his mother had already told him the gist in a fit of tears. He hadn’t wanted her to keep it in, but wasn’t ready to tell his father directly until he’d calmed down.
The king wasn’t pleased, but he didn’t try to talk him out of it either, understanding that it was for the best. It would be Xie Lian’s last personal effort to help his country; parting from it.
And once his parents had been spoken to, he finalized his plans with his friends, who had gotten the rundown that same evening they’d arrived back. For once, he wasn’t surprised when they jumped on board to go with him.
Xie Lian found it strange that he’d ever worried about his close friends wanting to leave his side. Even with his still-fragile state, he felt more confident with them than ever, if that was even possible. Of course, he missed Mu Qing terribly as well and hoped he was at least watching them.
After giving the more solid plan on what he intended to do, he did ask them one more time.
“I’m your sworn bodyguard and best friend,” Feng Xin had reminded him. “Do I really have a life here I care about more than having your back?”
“I hate that my reasoning sounds too close to yours,” Hua Cheng pouted at the guard. “But Gege, I’ll follow you anywhere you’d allow. You’d have to throw me in a chasm or something to shake me off.”
Xie Lian felt his still-sore heart begin to swell as he pulled them both into a hug. He’d plunged his country into chaos, committed so many atrocities, failed repeatedly, and gotten kicked out as a god, but these two didn’t hesitate to be his friends anyways.
Feng Xin suddenly muttered into the hug. “One of us is going to have to learn how to cook.”
“I’m positive I can figure it out,” Hua Cheng confidently volunteered.
The prince laughed for the first time in a while. “We can figure that out on the way. The carriage is ours so we can fit enough supplies to last us a while.”
They made further plans and arrangements for a few more days as they began to pack up their necessities. Hua Cheng still didn’t have much to his name, but he had requested for his scholar instructor to copy down some scrolls for him in the meantime.
The queen had visited often to simply have tea breaks with him. He appreciated how much she tried to refrain from crying and begging him to stay, and reassured her several times that he would at least try to write.
His father had visited far less, but that was no surprise. The man was still rather upset over the entire situation, but was also extremely busy now that they were down two people who had been part of the council through the crisis.
Soon enough, the day came for him to say his goodbyes.
He first stopped by the infirmary to talk to Lang Ying. It had been agreed upon by his father’s brother, Xie Chuanli, that he would be adopting the boy and raise him as a favour to their favourite nephew.
The reasoning was almost laughable; between not seeing him in about 20 years and all the events that happened, he wasn’t sure why they’d feel inclined.
However, he wanted to be the one to inform Lang Ying before he left and made his way down as he’d heard the news from his mother, which serendipitously happened to be the day before they were scheduled to set off.
The boy still looked frail, but after the first week of his uncle’s death, he’d begun eating properly again and was looking at least a little healthier. His face had returned to a regular complexion and he was awake enough where he didn’t seem like he was about to fall over and pass out like before.
He took strangely well to the news. Very shy, a little hesitant, but ultimately, he was agreeable. Xie Lian felt a lump in his throat when the boy thanked him at the very end. The prince didn’t expect it at all; he’d essentially been the cause of his uncle dying, and said uncle was very honest about how he felt about Xianle and the royal family.
However, the look he received wasn’t anything malicious and he was taken aback by the innocence still resting in those brown eyes. He couldn’t resist asking if the boy would like a hug, and after a quiet yes, he enveloped him as if welcoming a new family member.
He just prayed this cousin wouldn’t turn out nearly as insane as his other one.
Once that was over, he moved on to say goodbye to the attendants who still cared for him. Hao Mei, of course, was the first he went to, and he thanked her profusely for taking care of himself and of Hua Cheng. Her gentleness had surely affected the boy and made a big impact, and for that, they would all be grateful.
After that, he wrote a letter to be delivered up on the mountain detailing his goals about finding the State Preceptors, though if they returned before he got to them, he hoped the temple would let him know so he didn’t just search pointlessly.
He prayed his fellow cultivators would be so kind as to stay neutral in all this. He’d lived up there for years; to have them doubt his sincerity in only trying to help Xianle and his compassionate views on the plague camp he’d tried to save would feel like a stab in the back. He could understand civilian rumours, those who only really saw him from afar, but those on the temple knew him.
And finally, a parting scroll to be copied and relayed to the citizens. There were far too many to address publicly, and with all the controversy and split views, it would likely be dangerous to try to hold an event like that anyways.
He tried to stay professional and regal while pouring his heart into a goodbye. There was no telling if his absence would be temporary or permanent. If he would ascend through his efforts, or if he would spend his immortal life trying to find out what happened to his teacher and hunting down the ghost until no one in the kingdom remembered him anymore.
As he went to sign his name at the bottom, he saw a few wet drops dotting the edge of the scroll and lifted his hand to his face, finding tears rolling down it again. It was funny and frustrating; when did he turn into such a crier?
He supposed being overwhelmed constantly to the point of multiple breakdowns might take a while longer to heal from, and he made a mental note to make more effort to conceal his emotions around others until he was more stable.
After signing his name, he blew out the lantern and stretched while waiting for the ink to dry. Once it did, he rolled the scroll and went to hand it off to a waiting attendant. Afterwards, he was scheduled to have dinner with his parents – something he regretted not being able to do when he’d ascended suddenly.
Hours later, thanks to his mother delaying with one more dish after the other that she wanted to have together, he said his final goodbyes as he planned on leaving straight in the morning.
“Mother, Father, I’m sorry it turned out like this,” he managed to apologize. If he never saw them again, he would regret at least not saying it.
His father sighed deeply and moved to stand directly in front of him. Xie Lian braced himself for the worst, his body tensing, but he gasped when a hand landed firmly on his shoulder.
“Do what you need to. It’s for the best, after all. But, don’t be a stranger. Xianle still cares about you.”
His mother nodded along to his words, doing her best to keep from crying again. Perhaps that was where he got his sensitivity from. “My son, remember how much we love and care about you, too,” she managed to say as she dove in for a tight hug.
“I love you too,” he replied, nuzzling into her shoulder as if he was a small child one more time.
XxxxX
Before dawn the next morning, Xie Lian got into the waiting carriage, squeezing by all the supplies that were packed to the point where the only way all three of them could take shelter inside was if they were laid down and stacked on top of all their things. Well, his things.
Feng Xin yawned and took the reigns. Hua Cheng settled next to him with his special guard armor on and his weapon adjusted in his lap, and soon, the carriage began to move.
Xie Lian couldn’t bear to look outside. It already wore on his heart to be leaving; he couldn’t take watching everything go by.
This was his home. Even when he was a god, this was his domain.
Xianle was where people believed in him with all their hearts. Where he spent carefree days training and laughing with Feng Xin and Mu Qing. Where he’d been lucky enough to save an unlucky boy who fell from a wall, and where he’d hopefully changed his fate.
To leave it like this was painful. But he had to do it, essentially fleeing to try to divert the ghost’s sadistic toying with the country.
Right when he made the decision to distract himself by meditating, the carriage slowed to a sudden stop, and he became curious. Were they stopped at the gates? No, it was still too soon for them to have arrived.
He resisted looking out the window but waited a few moments for one of his friends to say something. What he didn’t expect was to hear a chorus of voices. Not cheers or jeers, but a harmony of what sounded like a crowd of people singing one of their country’s traditional songs. A bittersweet lullaby about parting, the melody soft and sweet with the words sad yet hopeful.
With that prompting, he did peek out of the carriage. His eyes widened once he saw how many people filled each side of the main road. Either the announcement scrolls worked fast, or someone had spread the news that the prince was leaving for their sake.
The crowd was filled with many familiar faces, and even more unfamiliar. Soldiers, a few palace attendants, and many from the marketplace were recognized. The rest were less so, but their hearts and intentions could be heard in the music.
One woman was in the middle front of the crowd, and she played a guqin that rang out a refined, beautiful melody to accompany the lullaby. Next to the woman stood Hao Mei, and it was then that Xie Lian realized that musician had to be her sister.
She played intensely, her eyes briefly looking up from the strings and locking with his, and she gave a grateful smile before refocusing. His chest warmed with the reminder of at least one person he’d been able to help with his status, though he knew half the credit had to go to Hua Cheng.
He was suddenly curious about how the boy was reacting to this. Had he said goodbye to Hao Mei? Had he ever met the sister he fought a general to help? Xie Lian swiftly exited the carriage and settled into the front of it, right in between his friends.
Hua Cheng did seem to recognize them, but other than a polite and grateful nod, he didn’t linger. Feng Xin began to move the carriage slowly, giving the crowd a chance to complete the song. It was oddly void of the hecklers he’d expected with everything, but perhaps only his supporters were told about this gathering.
Either way, his heart felt full. Each piece that had shattered on the news of all the deaths, that cut as brutally as his sword, began to slowly pull together. The song was like forgiveness. Like love, and like understanding.
He prayed these people wouldn’t be broken by the negativity that was likely to come, and that if he were to return one day, he would be welcomed with their open arms.
His love for his country was strong and unshakeable and this was a reminder of why he had descended. What he kept working and fighting for. He was their martial god, with a heart as gentle as a flower, and though he’d recently felt it was a weakness, perhaps it really could be a strength at the same time.
It was too quiet when they reached the open city gates. The crowd had not followed them all that way, and their music was missed. But, he still held those feelings within him and let himself remember that he was not alone.
As they passed through the gates, nodding to the guards stationed there who bowed in return, he leaned back in the seat and looked up at the stars until they slowly faded compared to the light of the rising sun.
The past year had been tumultuous, but Xianle was relatively safe for now. Xie Lian could only hope that with his efforts, his country would fully return from the brink of ashes and continue on strong for generations to come. And whether he ascended again or not, he would be around to watch the results.
He only hoped that his friends would be able to watch it with him.