Work Text:
Hua Cheng can admit, if only in the privacy of his own mind, that his current predicament... might be his own fault. Maybe.
When he'd first realized that someone had broken in to his home, had invaded his husband's home, he'd been absolutely furious. It'd been the work of mere seconds to narrow down their whereabouts, mere breaths before he'd transported himself in a - dramatic, Dianxia would say, intimidating, Hua Cheng maintained - burst of silver, his Wraith Butterflies swarming in his anger.
It wasn't just one ghost that faced him but a group of six, all of them foolish, all of them now existing on borrowed time.
But, well, Xie Lian wasn't home today, hadn't been for hours now, and so was in no danger. And while he would make sure these idiots payed dearly for trespassing - this was their space, who gave them the right? - it wasn't like they'd be capable of leaving with anything that wasn't theirs, his wards made sure of that. And all of them were weak, barely even Wrath-level, it was likely that he could kill them without even needing to use his good eye.
And so maybe he'd... played with them a bit, wasted time taunting that he could've used killing them instead.
And maybe - maybe - knowing how weak they were had led him to underestimating them.
Either way, it had resulted in one of them, most likely the one who'd originally broken in, dropping a hair brush - his hair brush, he realized a moment too late - into a jug of bubbling liquid and yelling something incomprehensible, all while his cohorts kept Hua Cheng busy.
There was silence for a moment, and then a tugging at his long-dead heart. It started softly, almost tentatively, and then became harsh all at once, leaving him gasping for breath he no longer needed.
It was like the world tilted, became skewed, and with a shatter, it broke apart. A piece of him he'd always had suddenly, violently, cut free from him.
He was on his knees with no memory of falling to them and a hysterical part of him wondered if he'd lost a limb or two, because that was certainly how it felt. But no, his arms were both still there, held defensively around him as they were, and his legs still supported him, even though they felt weak.
But something was missing. Something crucial, something precious, something he wanted back immediately.
"HAHAHA WHAT DID I TELL YA, BOYS? The fearsome Ghost King, pfft, what a load! Ain't nothin' without his weapon, and now it's ours!"
Weapon? Hua Cheng furrowed his brow, confused, before realization set in with the sound of distinctly familiar rattling.
E-Ming was no longer at his hip. One raised glance showed that, instead, the blade's scabbard was held securely in the grasp of the toad-faced spirit who'd completed whatever spell they'd used to sever his tie with his scimitar.
And it was severed. He could feel it like an open wound, like a hole had been gouged out of his very soul, and he hated it.
E-Ming didn't seem to be any more pleased than he was, practically vibrating with it's fury, but it made no move to attack or free itself. Couldn't, most likely. And how utterly embarrassing was that? A piece of him, a symbol of his power, wrenched away from him so easily all because he'd been arrogant.
He prayed that Dianxia never learned about any of this.
So, of course, like he'd swapped fortunes with his beloved for the day, that was the very moment his god's voice called out, "And what's all this about?"
Hua Cheng hung his head once more in utter defeat, not wanting his face to be seen. He knew Xie Lian must be taking in the scene and putting the puzzle pieces together. He was so smart, there was no way he wouldn't quickly arrive at the correct conclusion all on his own, and then he'd know just how big of a screw-up Hua Cheng was without him even having to utter a single word.
Gods, but even after eight centuries, he still managed to be so useless.
"I'd stay where you are, if ya know what's good!" The leader of the ghosts taunted, his fellows laughing and jeering right along with him, and Hua Cheng twitched. They were going to regret this day for years, he'd make sure of it. Stealing from him, making him look a fool, and now this? Talking to his god in such a way? He would not let their second death come gentle or swift. "We've got the unbeatable sword, now! Best back off before we see how your blood looks on it!"
Hua Cheng snarled, tensing, ready to lunge for the first throat he saw. What utter fools, to think his power dependent on that useless hunk of metal! He'd show them, he'd make them beg -
"Scimitar," Xie Lian corrected, sounding thoroughly unruffled and unimpressed, and Hua Cheng froze where he was, half-way to his feet. Because he knew that tone of voice. That was the tone his love used to politely indicate that he thought someone lacking rather severely in the mental department. He'd never be rude enough to say it aloud, of course. His vague smile said it all for him perfectly well.
"What was that, pretty boy?"
"I said, it's a scimitar, not a sword. There's a very big difference between the two. Isn't that right, E-Ming?"
The blade rattled in it's captor's hand, now for an entirely different reason, it's red eye spinning restlessly in it's metal socket, curved in unadulterated joy.
"What does it matter?" The leader huffed, trying to save face in front of his cohorts. "A blade is a blade and it'll gut ya either way!"
With that, he made a hand gesture and E-Ming was flying out of it's scabbard, aimed unerringly at Xie Lian's chest, and Hua Cheng tensed, ready to spring forward and take the hit because no, no, this couldn't happen -
Xie Lian stood unconcerned, though, making no move to dodge even though he could have. It became clear why when, bare centimeters away, the blade came to a shuttering halt. The leader swore, gestured once more, and yet nothing happened. E-Ming stayed there, hovering in the air, still as if it'd been frozen in time.
"You made a mistake," Xie Lian told the group of ghosts who'd all quieted down, faces gaping in disbelief. At his words, they all flinched as one, seemingly beginning to realize that they truly may have miscalculated. "You got too greedy. Even untethered, E-Ming is a part of Crimson Rain Sought Flower. And, as such, would never harm me."
With those words, he reached out to gently grip E-Ming's hilt and brought the blade into the cradle of his arms, like he was holding a small child and not the weapon that struck fear into the hearts of demons and gods alike.
"Isn't that right?" He cooed, smile turning soft with fondness. "You wouldn't ever hurt me, would you? You're such a good blade! Yes, you are!"
Apparently being tricked in such a way wasn't embarrassing enough. Now, he was being forced to sit here while his useless trash of a scimitar wiggled about in his husband's arms like a damn dog begging for treats. He groaned, letting himself fall back down to the floor, because surely, surely if he wished hard enough the earth would open up and swallow him whole?
Xie Lian chuckled, finally stepping over to him and dropping a hand to the crown of his head. Even overcome with shame the way he was, there was no physical way he could resist pressing in to that hand, a silent request for those lovely fingers to comb through his hair. His love, ever attentive, kindly granted him his wish.
"You've had your fun, now," Xie Lian spoke mildly, almost absently, to the group that was still frozen and watching on in ever-mounting horror. After all, tales of Crimson Rain and his blade were known throughout all the realms. It must be inconceivable to bear witness to both of them so tamed by a single hand.
Let them see, Hua Cheng thought, uncaring. He'd scream it from the rooftops if Dianxia would only let him. They likely wouldn't be living long enough to spread tales of their own anyway.
"Yin Yu, if you would."
Seemingly before his husband had even finished the request, they were surrounded by silence, alone in the parlor, and Hua Cheng sighed, long and forlorn.
"This San Lang apologizes," he muttered, reaching up to bury his face into Xie Lian's stomach, wrapping his arms around his slim waist. If he'd had the ability, he's sure his face would be red in mortification. "Gege worked so hard today and this one couldn't even welcome him home properly."
Xie Lian hummed, "I was a bit disappointed," Hua Cheng let out a pitiful noise at the admittance. "But it was nice to be able to save you, for once."
Now that, he couldn't let stand, no matter how cheerful his love sounded when he said it. "You always save me, Gege. Every day."
Xie Lian laughed, helplessly charmed, and Hua Cheng wished he knew just what it was about him that made the god love him so much. If he knew, he'd do everything in his power to never stop.
"Now, now," Dianxia gave him one last pat to the head, using his other arm to cuddle E-Ming ever closer, completely unconcerned about the bare blade resting so close to his skin, "let's get the two of you fixed up, shall we? I'd like my husband to be in one piece, if you don't mind."
He didn't, and rose to his feet to follow obediently, just as he always would.
So, maybe this whole thing could have been avoided and maybe Hua Cheng was likely to receive an exasperated lecture later about not endangering himself by underestimating enemies. Maybe he still felt like curling into a ball and disappearing out of pure embarrassment over his god witnessing him in such a state.
Still, Dianxia had once again saved him effortlessly. And he'd proved, just as he had time and time again, that he truly loved and trusted every part of Hua Cheng, even the part of him made for killing.
All in all, it wasn't a total loss.