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It's been a thousand years.
That's... a long time.
A really long time.
Did you know? Even immortals can understand the weight of time. They live it, after all. It's the only thing left, really.
An endless life of solitude is certainly more torturous than a swift death.
Jun Wu has thought about this many times.
More often than not, he's left to consider if this life is still worth it.
More often than not, he's too scared to voice an answer.
He's tired, it's true.
Gods, he's so tired.
So finally, he says what he needs to.
It takes a while to gain an audience with the Crown Prince of Xianle. They say he's a kind and benevolent god, but he spends much of his time roaming the world with his beloved husband.
It's two years before Jun Wu's message reaches him.
As expected, the news is quick to summon the heavenly official, at the very least.
"Are you sure about this?" Xie Lian asks, his eyes filled with concern.
Because of course he worries.
"I'm sure, Xianle. I've had a millennium alone to consider," Jun Wu retorts. It comes out as more of a quiet sigh, though.
He's just so damn tired.
"This will affect Guoshi, too," the pristine god says, so kind and caring as always.
"In the end, it won't."
Jun Wu’s words are true, but Xie Lian frowns all the same.
Xie Lian looks hesitant for a moment before searching for another option.
"You know, it's been long enough that we could consider allowing you to live in the mortal realm. Almost a thousand years—"
"One thousand and two," Jun Wu corrects, a sad smile on his face.
"O-oh, I'm afraid I'm not always the best at keeping track of time. You have my apologies, Your Highness," Xie Lian says, bowing.
"Is that meant to taunt me? I'm afraid such titles mean nothing to the dirt and the worms down here," Jun Wu states calmly.
Although the years may have washed away his burning hate, there's a hole in his heart where Wuyong was burned away.
He never fully recovered. Maybe to keep his country with him, or maybe because he simply wasn't strong enough to leave it behind.
Even he's not sure.
"You could live with Mei Nianqing. He's hardly left the mountain all this time. I'd have to talk to the other officials, but I know plenty would speak in your favor—"
"Please. I've made my decision," Jun Wu says with finality. His eyes are sharp. Unrelenting.
Like an emperor.
Xie Lian bites back any further arguments, and nods solemnly.
"I understand. I think that it's unwise to tell Guoshi, given his attachment. There's a chance he would do something rash," he sighs, wringing his hands.
The red string on his finger glows steadily.
"I agree. I'd like this to be done with as efficiently as possible." Jun Wu doesn't hesitate.
Erasing one's memories can be a dangerous task. If too many are erased, it can leave someone as an empty shell. If not enough are erased, it can drive them to sheer madness.
And to take thousands of years from Mei Nianqing— it's almost too cruel. Even though he wasn't devoted like Hua Cheng, the entire course of his life was heavily shaped by Jun Wu.
The last thousand years, he's kept the only shrine dedicated to the Crown Prince of Wuyong.
It's not like it was an easy decision. How could it be?
When gods are no longer worshipped, they fade from existence. It's something that mortals don't mourn, and it's something that gods pretend not to fear.
Only the wicked are unworthy of devotion.
…right?
The world knew that Jun Wu was wicked. The first ghost king, the slayer of a thousand gods. A cruel dictator with no heart, who wished for revenge against a child whose only crime was being stronger and kinder than him.
It's easier to think of him that way.
It's not as easy to think of him as a human. As someone who wanted desperately to be a good person. How his sacrifices only ever condemned him, and his resentment was born from the fear that he really could have been better.
If only he'd tried a little harder.
He's not allowed to say goodbye to Mei Nianqing. They don't want to take any chances of him finding out and resisting. It's painful, but Jun Wu says nothing.
The process can take days, even weeks, when memories are thousands of years deep.
Hua Cheng performs the ritual.
There's no doubt in Jun Wu's mind that Crimson Rain Sought Flower takes some amount of pleasure in knowing that the former god and first ghost king is going to fade to nothingness.
Jun Wu finds it hard to fault him, though.
Xie Lian escorts Jun Wu out of the mountain, walking quietly until they're outside of the little abode where Guoshi Mei Nianqing lives.
It takes Jun Wu's breath away.
It's as extravagant as the temples of Wuyong, gilded with gold and lovingly decorated.
The size is still small enough to be considered quaint. It fills Jun Wu with a complicated feeling.
"He built this for me?" Jun Wu asks quietly.
"En, it's truly amazing. Many forget just how powerful a single believer can be," Xie Lian replies, touching the red string again.
It's unfair that he finally feels doubt creep in at this moment. The fact that he finally thinks that perhaps he could have learned to love being alive again...
It's truly ironic.
Even so, Jun Wu sinks into the bed of flowers in front of the house. The golden flowers remind him of a long lost home, and four dear friends.
They remind him of a prince who died a long time ago.
So... who is this temple for?
Not him, certainly. Who could love someone with so little to give? A walking corpse, forgotten by mortals and one day forgotten by the earth itself.
Gods can't reincarnate.
This isn't a curse, though. To break the cycle of reincarnation is a gift. Only those who have spent lifetimes working towards this can be released, returning to the universe.
Jun Wu finds this comforting. He's not even sure if he deserves to reach this kind of enlightenment.
Mei Nianqing wakes abruptly, looking into the eyes of the ghost king, Hua Cheng. He feels a strange emptiness in his heart.
The Guoshi goes to meditate in his small temple he built.
A temple dedicated to the Crown Prince of [Xianle?].
The ghost king and his husband converse quietly, Jun Wu still relaxing amongst the flowers.
"It's his last moments, San Lang. He deserves to spend them where he wants."
"Gege is too kind and lenient. Be careful, beloved. I'll be waiting at home. Call for me if you need."
Xie Lian offers a hand to Jun Wu, and their hands are joined. The prince's hand is so warm.
With a toss of a pair of red dice, they step through the door and land in a cloud of dust.
Soot and ash cover what's left of a once regal hall. The walls are covered in winding vines of ivy, and sunlight streams in through the crumbled ceiling.
It's been a long time since anything living grew in Wuyong.
In a way, it's very beautiful.
Xie Lian follows Jun Wu as he makes his way to what likely used to be a garden, his steps slow.
A large rock serves as a bench for the two of them as they look over the scenery, taking in the dim colors and dilapidated city.
They sit together, the sun steadily setting in the golden sky. The two princes say nothing, and just wait.
And wait.
And wait.
And wait.
The night is cold in Wuyong. There's scuttling of creatures and spirits, but none bother the two lone figures.
"This is taking a long time. The method used should have dissipated me by now," Jun Wu muses. "Could it be that even death won't take me, now?" He says the last bit with a hint of a smile as he glances at his companion.
Xie Lian looks away, not meeting the former emperor's gaze.
"Xianle? Did something happen with Nianqing?" Jun Wu's tone turns dark. Fear creeps in, gripping his heart as he worries for his friend. Was his last action in this world to harm his dear friend?
"No," Xie Lian sighs. There's a pained look on his face, one that Jun Wu hasn't seen in a long time.
"Then what—"
Ah.
Suddenly, it clicks into place.
But how could that possibly be? There's no way that after everything...
"Xie Lian," Jun Wu starts, voice hesitant. "After all this time..?"
When the god turns around to face him, there's tears in his eyes, shining under the moonlight.
"I'm sorry... Your Majesty," Xie Lian whispers.
A fondness washes over Jun Wu, only to be drowned by an ocean of guilt.
"I wronged you. Truly wronged you, in ways that can never be forgiven. So why..?" Jun Wu looks deep into those eyes for answers that he can't understand.
"I don't know. I... really don't know. I can't forgive what happened, but I also can't let go. I don't know how to. You were everything I knew and trusted for eight hundred years. So even now... you matter to me. I can't let go." Xie Lian's shoulders shake as tears flow freely.
Jun Wu knows that he was the most worshipped god when he ruled the heavens. Even so, he was always aware that their love was as superficial as the mask he wore.
Xie Lian has always been so kind and sincere. Of course he would have offered his faith genuinely.
And oh, how he adored Xie Lian. How he still does. All Jun Wu ever wanted was to not be alone. The heavens turned their backs on him. In Wuyong, everyone turned their back on him.
Won't someone please stay with him? It's been so long since someone listened to him.
Mei Nianqing returned. And now, Xie Lian has returned.
It's always too late.
He doesn't mind, though. It's alright.
It doesn't change his decision. If anything, it makes it easier. Knowing that he has another believer is something he didn't even know he wanted.
Jun Wu's arms wrap around Xie Lian's small form, holding him close. There's a moment of resistance, and then the god melts into the embrace.
"I'm not ready for this," Xie Lian sobs, clinging to the former emperor's white robes.
Those words leave Jun Wu shattered.
[I'm not ready to go.]
If he said that out loud, he'd never be able to leave this moment behind. He would stay here, holding Xie Lian until the end of time.
Oh, it would be so much easier than this.
"Xianle— no, Xie Lian. Thank you."
It's all Jun Wu can muster as he cups Xie Lian's face in his hands. Shining eyes stare back at him, his nose red and his lip trembling. He's always been so beautiful. Delicate features and incredible strength.
Jun Wu's thumb brushes away a tear as he leans down and softly presses his lips to the prince's forehead.
"My lor—"
A flash of energy runs through them, and Jun Wu sees every moment of devotion, betrayal, and hatred in that single second. No matter what, faith was always there.
It's so warm. The emotions flowing through Jun Wu are soft and kind, and he's happy. Genuinely happy. He's not really familiar with this feeling, but it feels like closure. It feels okay.
Xie Lian slumps forward, unconscious. Jun Wu settles him against the rock and uses the last of his energy to tap into Crimson Rain's communication array. He never did forget that vulgar password.
"Wuyong. Palace," Jun Wu says before his energy fizzles into nothing.
He's tired.
With a sigh, he sits next to the unconscious god.
[I'm not ready to go.]
Jun Wu knows he'll never truly be ready. He's already thought about this so many times.
He knows that his life may not have been worth it. He did more bad than good with the time he was given.
Even so, He's tired.
Gods, he's so tired.
[I'm not ready for this.]
Those words stay with him as his form becomes more transparent.
At that moment, he felt mourned. It's perhaps something that makes letting go a little easier.
And so, Jun Wu finally lets go.
He never thought he would fear death, it was never something he thought about. From an early age, he decided he would ascend— so he did.
Immortality was always taken for granted.
Now, he understands.
He understands that he CAN'T understand everything. He understands the importance of human connection, and that even though he won't be remembered, he was loved.
And that's enough.
Barely visible, Jun Wu's hand rests atop Xie Lian's.
The proud emperor of the heavens closes his eyes, and in the language of Wuyong, he quietly whispers,
"I'm ready."
Xie Lian wakes up abruptly, unsure of how he ended up in Wuyong— a place he hasn't been to since dissipating Bai Wuxiang a thousand years ago.
They never did learn who the first ghost king truly was.
There's not much here. It appears to be part of the ruins, but there's nothing marking where or what this place is.
Strangely, Xie Lian feels his hand tingle, as if something had been resting on it. He looks around to see what might have caused this.
His eyes are drawn to the only color in the vicinity.
A single golden flower is peeking out of the sand and dirt next to where he was sitting, the only sign of life here.
"Hello there," he says quietly. For some reason, his heart feels so heavy. It reminds him of...
A silver butterfly flits by his face.
Hurried footsteps approach from the nearby building— or what's left of it.
"Gege!"
Crimson robes billow in the wind as Hua Cheng dashes to his husband, lifting him into his arms. He laughs, feeling safe again.
"Is it over?" Hua Cheng asks carefully, setting Xie Lian back on the ground.
"I’m sorry, I'm actually not sure why I'm here. I just woke up and was about to call for you." Xie Lian takes Hua Cheng's hands in his own as he speaks, feeling comforted by the touch.
A complicated expression crosses the ghost king's face, and he nods his head. "Ah, that's fine, as long as gege is safe and sound."
"I'm fine, San Lang. What's going on?" Xie Lian asks, a frown on his face. Something feels off, but he can't seem to place it.
"Can gege trust me when I say that it's best not to know?" Hua Cheng's voice is soft as he squeezes Xie Lian's hands.
Xie Lian nods with a smile. "I trust San Lang completely." He knows Hua Cheng would never ask him something like this lightly.
Hua Cheng leans down to kiss his beloved before pulling a pair of red dice from his sleeve. He offers an arm to Xie Lian. "Ready?"
"Oh, hold on," he requests, kneeling down in the sand.
Carefully, Xie Lian scoops up the golden flower, keeping the roots intact.
"I don't think this flower will last here, I'd like to replant it at home. Something about it seems... important." Xie Lian stares at the flower, as if something is on the tip of his tongue.
"Anything Dianxia wants," Hua Cheng says with a smile.
The two return home to their little cottage, Xie Lian quickly finding a suitable place to plant the little flower.
Although he can't seem to remember why, the flower fills him with feelings that he can't really understand, but he feels that something has changed.
It's a paradox, really. In one way, everything has changed.
In another, nothing has changed at all.
No matter what path was taken, the pieces fell the same, and everyone still made it to the same destination.
Why not live freely, then?
The things that seemed so unimportant in the moment— those were the things that should have been cherished.
The things that seemed so big, in the end they were all so small.
The things that were light years away were suddenly in their hands.
At long last, Xie Lian drifts off to sleep in the arms of his husband.
The rest of the night is peaceful, and the sunflower waits for the summer sun to rise again, as it always does.