Chapter Text
"Mu Qing, what the hell are you babbling about?" Feng Xin barked, his eyes darting frantically between my archaic white robes and the sharp, chalk-pale color draining from his colleague's face. "He looks like who? Some actor who got lost on the way to a historical drama set?"
"Shut up, Feng Xin. Just—look at him," Mu Qing hissed. His voice, usually so clipped and calculated, trembled with a bizarre, tense frequency. Step by step, he began to advance toward the cot, his sharp eyes narrowing as he reached out a hand, intent on tearing the dark sunglasses right off my face.
Before his fingers could even cross the space, Hua Cheng moved.
With a terrifying, explosive burst of movement, Hua Cheng snapped. He snatched a heavy glass bottle of sparkling water off the folding table and hurled it straight at them. The bottle sailed past Mu Qing’s ear, missing his nose by mere inches, before shattering violently against the metal tent pole behind them. Shards of glass and pressurized water exploded everywhere.
"Get the fuck out!" Hua Cheng roared.
The sheer force of his voice made the canvas walls rattle. The easygoing, sheepish archaeologist vanished in a heartbeat, replaced by a man radiating a lethal, unadulterated fury that felt terrifyingly familiar.
"Hua Cheng, you lunatic—!" Feng Xin started, his hand instinctively flying to his security belt.
"I said get out!" Hua Cheng screamed, stepping directly between them and my trembling form, his single eye blazing with a dangerous, protective fire. "Both of you! Get your goddamn hands off my research, get out of my tent, and if I see your faces near this ridge again today, I will personally throw you off the cliffside! Leave!"
He unleashed a torrent of vicious, biting curses, his voice dropping into a low, menacing growl that brooked absolutely no argument. It was a verbal flaying so intense that even the hot-tempered Feng Xin went rigid. Realizing that Hua Cheng was genuinely unhinged with rage, Mu Qing grabbed Feng Xin’s arm, shooting me one last, deeply unsettled look before pulling him backward out of the tent.
The canvas flap snapped shut behind them, leaving a heavy, ringing silence in their wake.
Hua Cheng stood there for a long moment, his chest heaving as he stared at the closed exit. He let out a sharp, aggravated huff, running a hand through his messy black hair.
"Hypocrites," he muttered under his breath, his tone dripping with bitter, uncharacteristic scorn.
I watched him behind the amber tint of my lenses, my heart aching with a profound, bittersweet warmth. Seeing Feng Xin and Mu Qing in modern clothes, stripped of their golden armor but still carrying the exact same bickering souls, had sent a jolt through my chest. But seeing San Lang protect me—even without his ghost powers, even as a mortal who didn't remember my name—was almost too much for my soul to bear.
Hua Cheng cleared his throat aggressively, the tense lines of his shoulders finally softening as he turned back to face me. He coughed into his hand, a sudden wave of human awkwardness washing over him as he looked at the half-eaten food clutched in my fingers.
"Are you... not gonna eat?" he asked softly, his Xianle dialect still slightly stiff but incredibly gentle.
"Right," I murmured, snapping out of my daze.
I lifted the silver foil packet back to my lips and took another bite. To my surprise, it was incredibly tasty. The dry, sweet grain flavor suddenly seemed wonderful, and before I knew it, I was eating it quite quickly, swallowing bite after bite until the packet was entirely empty.
Grumbleeee.
A loud, deep sound suddenly echoed from my midsection. My tummy grumbled aggressively, practically begging for even more food.
A soft, delighted giggle escaped Hua Cheng’s lips at the sound. I felt a fierce, burning blush rush up my neck and color my cheeks, and I hurriedly tried to hide behind my tattered sleeves. I really was just so incredibly hungry.
Internally, a quiet smile touched my lips. Normally, as a cursed, wandering god, I could go months without a single scrap of food, completely immune to the agonizing pangs of starvation. I had spent centuries treating my body like an unfeeling vessel, accustomed to the hollow ache of an empty stomach. But ever since I met San Lang, all of that changed.
A sudden, vivid memory flooded my mind, washing over me with a wave of pure, concentrated sweetness. I could almost feel the plush, crimson cushions of the Paradise Manor divan beneath me.
“Gege, you’ve barely touched your soup,” San Lang’s voice had been a low, velvety pout, entirely unacceptable for a supreme ghost king who struck terror into the heavens. He had been kneeling right beside me, holding a delicate jade bowl of rich, slow-simmered bird's nest soup. Whenever I tried to reach for the spoon, he would gently nudge my hand away, insisting on blowing on the hot broth himself before pressing the spoon to my lips.
“San Lang, I can feed myself,” I had whispered, my face burning so hot I felt like I was melting. “I am a martial god, I am not made of glass. Besides, I am really quite full.”
“Nonsense. Gege is too thin. Look at these wrists,” he had murmured with a soft, aching sigh, his cool fingers sliding around my wrist to prove his point. “If Dianxia will not eat for his own sake, then do it to put this humble servant’s heart at ease. Just three more bites? Please, gege?”
He had pouted so beautifully, his dark eye wide and imploring, that my defenses crumbled instantly. I had whined and blushed furiously under his excessive doting, completely overwhelmed by how thoroughly he spoiled me, but every single swallow of that sweet broth had made my chest swell with a fierce, quiet joy.
By the time the final battle rolled around, his absolute devotion had coaxed my body back to health; I was no longer a frail, hollow stick of a man. He had meticulously nourished me back to life, piece by piece, bite by bite.
Even now, sitting on a modern canvas cot in a world I didn't recognize, I cherished that memory deep within my heart. His memories were gone, but his soul’s instinct to feed me, protect me, and keep me safe remained completely unbroken.