Chapter Text
“My apologies, Your Highness, but I really wasn’t prepared for your arrival. Hopefully everything is alright with you,” the ghost clad in red smiles.
The Guoshi is almost surprised– everything in the room looks absolutely beautiful. The bed was perfectly made before he sat on it, plush and comfortable. The decoration was clearly that of a rich household, at least from what he remembers. It’s now that he feels the urge to say something, anything, to the man that brought him here. Now that he’s not in the bright room, the dark wood is soothing to his eyes. It’s not too dark. He’s glad. He doesn’t want to go there again, not after–
The man interrupts his thoughts, his eye looking back and forth between him and a painting on the wall. He seems to come to a decision, a small smile gracing his features, “Gege can call me San Lang.”
The Guoshi blinks, startled. Hadn’t he only called him
His Highness
until now? Yet his undead heart flutters in his chest at the address. It’s nice, even if his chest aches at the movement.
“Ah, if I was too forward, then gege– or, Your Highness can ignore me,” San Lang amends after getting no response. His smile tightens around the corners and Xie Lian shakes his head as soon as he can– he tries not to make anything hurt more, but this man…
San Lang is quick to catch on, at least. “But if it’s fine with gege, then I’d be happy.”
Xie Lian feels his mouth stretch into something, hurting his cheeks at the small movement. He feels so blissfully good– like he has something right now that he hasn’t genuinely had in a long time.
San Lang’s smile loosens into something that looks more excited, and Xie Lian knows that he’s truly, finally out.
Jun Wu tilted his head to rest on his fingertips, answering the call in his spiritual communication array. It seemed to have been an emergency from Xuan Zhen’s palace– the new god had ascended and went there, hadn’t he? Ling Wen had only told him so much before going to investigate.
“Your Majesty, apologies for intruding, but this is urgent. The new god has been kidnapped by Crimson Rain Sought flower. It seems that His Highness Tai Hua has passed out, as well, but he’s been brought to his palace,”
reported a junior official that Jun Wu did not care to know the name of.
“I see,”
he responded, pinching the bridge of his nose with another hand. He could feel another headache coming on; they were insatiable. Promising he would take care of it, he closed the array and opened Ling Wen’s, telling her the news.
“Contact everyone and tell them to come to the Palace of Divine Might immediately.”
With the junior official and a few others already knowing about this, there was no way this was going to be kept quiet. Jun Wu mourned his loss of peace again. He sighed quietly, ignoring his migraine and massaging his temple.
“Nan Yang, retrieve Tai Hua from his palace.”
He didn’t bother to wait for a response before closing the array.
A few short-lived minutes later, officials began pouring into the room like ants, chatting quietly amongst themselves. Jun Wu waited until almost everyone was here before he tapped his hand on his arm rest. The sound reverberated around the hall, making everyone quiet.
Something screamed at him. He ignored it, narrowing his eyes and reporting the news.
There were shocked gasps around the hall, some people looking at Mu Qing with narrowed eyes. Sure, Xie Lian was at
his
palace, but it isn’t his fault! He wasn’t even there when it happened– if anything, it was Feng Xin’s fault for not paying close enough attention. Mu Qing’s shoulders tensed; of course it was
him.
Immediately, people started coming up with their own wild theories and ideas of why or how Crimson Rain Sought Flower took Xie Lian.
“He took him because there was a debt owed, that’s why he was so beat up!”
“No, no, Crimson Rain wanted to defy the heavens. He’s just trying to send a message.”
“Maybe he’s in love, you know? I’ve heard that he was searching for someone– maybe the god is him!”
“He wouldn’t be so sentimental! Clearly, he knew him beforehand, but how come?”
“What if he’s…”
Their voices ring across the hall, making Mu Qing’s head hurt. If he could act like Feng Xin and just slam his foot on the floor like a
toddler,
maybe everyone would shut the
fuck up.
Just as he was contemplating leaving, the man he loathed so much entered the palace. Mu Qing’s eyes widened and everyone promptly shut up when they saw the two people he was carrying with spiritual energy.
A man with long, chestnut colored hair, and strong brows. His golden hair piece was almost falling out, though anyone could recognize his princely attire. It was Lang Qianqiu, knocked out. Next to him was a man in simpler attire, black hair in a messy bun; it was probably a junior official of some sort.
Mu Qing recalled… wasn’t this the junior official looking for Lang Qianqiu?
“Apologies for the interruption, Your Majesty,” Feng Xin said blankly, “but I believe these two will be useful for the meeting. A red mark had been left on the back of their necks– I believe they were knocked out by Crimson Rain’s butterfly.”
“You’re forgiven,” His Majesty said. He sounded almost bored, despite the seriousness of their situation. “Wake them up.”
Feng Xin blinked, startled, but quickly roused them with his spiritual energy.
The junior official woke up first, blinking slowly and trying to get up. Before he could understand where he was, Feng Xin dropped him with a resounding
thud.
The man groaned, rubbing his neck as he sat up. “Where..?” His gray eyes land upon the other god, passed out. He scrambled to get closer, face stricken with worry. “Lang Qianqiu! Is– is he hurt?”
“He’s fine,” Feng Xin responded curtly, focusing on rousing the martial god of the east. It took more power to wake a god, after all. “What happened?”
It makes the hairs on the back of Mu Qing’s neck stand up recalling it; Hua Cheng’s butterflies were nothing to laugh at, and Mu Qing missed a bit before alarms were raised. But he still takes care to study the younger gods in front of him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have noticed how the junior official stutters something before Lang Qianqiu shakes his head, however minutely.
“When I noticed how His Highness Tai Hua was standing, I– I got worried, and then he passed out, so I took him and ran.”
The pause made him look over to Feng Xin, who, to his credit, also looks noticeably confused. If only because the junior official neglected to mention how aggressive Lang Qianqiu seemed.
The conversation moves on before either of the men can point it out. “What should we do?” asks another god, politely confused. All eyes fall onto Jun Wu, who pointedly looks at Pei Ming.
Pei Ming, at the very least, doesn’t look as perturbed as Mu Qing would have been. The martial god of the north clears his throat, and Mu Qing is once again reminded that he used to be a general long before he ascended.
“Hua Cheng is
strong,
” he says, and Mu Qing has to fight not to roll his eyes. “Exceedingly so. As the Ghost King, he has a massive following within Ghost City. It would be foolish to attack outright. The best course of action would be to try and negotiate for the god back, but it won’t be easy. If that were to fail, the next best plan would probably be to kidnap him back. That proves itself risky in its own right, of course…”
Pei Ming quiets as he finishes the small speech, thinking to himself– which is surprisingly couth for the god. No one says anything for a beat, until the Water Master speaks up. “First, we have to figure out what Crimson Rain really wants. It might be leverage over the heavens, for all we know, but it has been mentioned that the god was… severely injured. He could have another use for him, and in either case negotiation would reflect negatively on our part.”
“But negotiation would be
safer,
wouldn’t it?” His eyes flick to the Wind Master, who is idly waving his fan around. “I mean, if we kidnap him back and
fail,
that’d be even worse.”
“I guess so,” Pei Ming amends, “But it can be done. In any case, Shi Wudu is right. We should figure out a motive before we do anything.”
Murmurs throughout the crowd increase in volume, the old rumors that were on hold returning with full force. Before Mu Qing can throw Feng Xin out the window, Jun Wu clears his throat, effectively silencing everyone.
“I see. We will have another meeting in four days to discuss matters further. I expect all of you,” his gaze sweeps through the crowd, though Mu Qing feels like His Majesty’s eyes land directly on his, “to keep up with your own work as well as report back to me or Pei Ming if any new information comes up. Dismissed.”
Gods and junior officials make quick work of leaving the hall, Feng Xin lingering behind. The man, unfortunately, is able to catch up with Mu Qing as the doors close behind them.
“Do you really think we’ll have to kidnap His Highness back?” he says, that stupidly genuine, worried expression on his face. Though he doesn’t specify, it’s clear who he’s talking about.
“Don’t be stupid,” Mu Qing says, heat rising to his cheeks. He apologized to Feng Xin, just earlier today.
Apologized.
Feng Xin won’t fight him over something like this, and he knows it. “If worse comes to worst, then maybe. But I’ll ask if we can be assigned on the mission.”
For some reason, the other god looks almost
happy
with his words. They continue to bicker, because Feng Xin looks like a dumb puppy when he does things like this, allowing the Earth Master to pass by them into the Palace of Divine Might.