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Wei Wuxian shielded his eyes against the sun and tried to look respectable as a young woman with two children in tow walked past. The woman caught one glimpse of him and Wen Ning, scrappy and downtrodden from where they sat with their fraying sack of radishes, and gave them a wide berth. 

Wei Wuxian sucked at his teeth. He could hardly blame her. Maybe next week he would bring A-Yuan. He wasn’t above using a child for sympathy to gain some extra business. 

There wasn’t much at all he was above these days.

He brushed the dirt from the knees of his robes. It was a fruitless effort; it hadn’t rained in Yiling for weeks and the dust from the market streets was kicked up with each passerby. And there were, indeed, many people passing them by. 

Wen Ning was practically hiding under his bamboo hat as he apologetically offered radishes to shoppers who did their best to ignore him.

There were people who were counting on them to make a little money. To buy supplies and medicine. To eat something other than radish flavored water this week. 

“Wen Ning,” Wei Wuxian sighed loudly, causing Wen Ning to flinch. “You really need to put some muscle into it. Entice the customer!”

“Oh,” Wen Ning said, brow furrowing in confusion. Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes, snatching a radish from their sack before standing up and stretching.

“Watch this,” he said with a wink, then called out to the street. “Excuse me, Daozhang! You look like you’re in need of some radishes!”

A little white-robed cultivator who had been hovering nearby glanced up. Wei Wuxian had never seen him in the market before, but he had been walking up and down their street all afternoon. He had studiously browsed every single stall around them but seemed to be intentionally avoiding him. This wasn’t odd in and of itself, but there was something about the man that made his nose itch.

However, he didn’t seem reluctant to be addressed at all, and even greeted him with a kind smile.

“What a keen eye you have!” The cultivator walked over to them, hiking the bag he carried higher up over his shoulder. “You’re right, of course, I was absolutely looking for, uh—”

“Radishes,” Wen Ning reminded him.

“Right, radishes!” he said brightly. “My husband loves radishes.”

Inexplicably, this warmed Wei Wuxian to him a little more. He raised his eyebrows at Wen Ning, mindful that he was still teaching a lesson.

“Well these are the best radishes in Yiling,” he boasted, “and you certainly won’t find a better price.”

“That’s true,” Wen Ning piped up. Good, he was starting to catch on. Wei Wuxian gave him a thumbs-up behind his back and Wen Ning grinned. 

“Excellent, excellent,” the cultivator said with a nod. He squatted down next to the sack, which Wen Ning dutifully held out for him. “I’ll have to pick out the best ones to bring home.”

“Take your time.” Wei Wuxian leaned back against the wall behind them, crossing his arms and cocking his head to the side as the cultivator diligently inspected each and every radish. “What brings you to Yiling, Daozhang?”

The cultivator gave him a knowing smile for correctly guessing that he was only a visitor. 

“Ah, just selling and collecting scraps!” He jerked his chin toward the bag he carried with him. At Wei Wuxian’s questioning glance he elaborated, “Temple repairs aren’t cheap, you know. Besides, it’s a bit of a passion of mine.”

“That's…very interesting.” Wei Wuxian couldn’t help being paranoid lately, but it seemed like this cultivator truly didn’t know who he was. He might be a little strange, but that was no reason to be suspicious. He must have been staring, because the cultivator coughed and self-consciously tugged at the bandage wrapped around his wrist. After he drew attention to it, Wei Wuxian felt a spark of recognition, but he couldn’t quite place it. “Daozhang, have we met before? Forgive me, I’m not very good with faces, but you seem so familiar.”

“Hm? No no, I don’t think so.” His voice was nonchalant. Perhaps deliberately nonchalant. “And none of this ‘Daozhang’ business, you can just call me Hua Lian!”

Hua Lian looked at him expectantly.

“Right, yes.” Wei Wuxian cleared his throat. “I’m Wei…Zhan.”

If Wen Ning had any opinions on his hastily chosen alias he was very good at keeping a straight face. Wei Wuxian still cringed internally.

Had he really not considered the possibility of needing a fake name before now?

“Nice to meet you, Wei Zhan,” Hua Lian said, politely returning his attention to the radishes.

“Oh, and this is my didi, A-Ning,” Wei Wuxian said, to save Wen Ning from the same awkwardness. “Just two simple farm boys, doing some honest work.”

“Good for you!” Hua Lian said. The man was unnervingly genuine.

Wei Wuxian frowned, still feeling like there was a piece he was missing in order for the full picture to form. 

“Do y-you, uh, have enough radishes?” Wen Ning asked. 

Hua Lian had been shoving radishes one by one into his arms and now his sleeves were overflowing with radishes. Rogue radishes fell from his clutches and were rolling into the streets.

“You know, you’d best just give me the whole sack,” Hua Lian said, dumping the radishes from his arms. “Like I said, my husband, he really loves them.”

“Really?” Wei Wuxian grinned, swaying away from the wall to help him gather the radishes. “They’re all yours. I’ll even give you a discount for buying in bulk.”

Wei Wuxian reached out at the same time as him for a radish and Hua Lian accidentally grabbed him by the wrist. Wei Wuxian started to laugh it off, but then Hua Lian didn’t let go. In fact, he squeezed a little tighter. For the first time since they began speaking, the smile had left Hua Lian’s face. 

Wei Wuxian snatched his wrist back and Hua Lian blinked, his beatific expression of kindness returning as if it had never left.

“No need for a discount!” He tossed a pouch to Wen Ning, who’s eyes doubled in size when he peeked inside. “I hope we meet again, Wei Zhan!”

Hua Lian stood up, hitching both bags over his shoulder. For a small man, he must have been a very strong cultivator, as he didn’t seem at all bothered by the weight of them.

“Be well, Hua Lian. Enjoy the radishes.” 

Wei Wuxian was slightly unsettled, but he shook it off when Wen Ning dumped the contents of the pouch into his palm to show Wei Wuxian their profit.

When he was sure the cultivator was out of earshot, he gave Wen Ning a smug look. 

“Now that’s how it’s done.”

---

“Gege,” Hua Cheng sighed, patient, but wary, “you promised you were only going to observe.”

“I did observe,” Xie Lian insisted. He finished chopping yet another radish and slid it off the edge of his knife into the wok. He had been aiming for a stir-fry, but for some reason the dish was starting to look more like stew. “But I couldn’t ignore him when he spoke to me directly! Say, San Lang, you do like radishes, don’t you?”

“I like whatever gege cooks for me. Don’t change the subject.”

“I really only meant to take a look,” Xie Lian said. Hua Cheng sidled up behind him, taking his typical position of clinging to Xie Lian’s back and hooking his chin over his shoulder to watch him cook. “I overheard some people in the village speaking about them. It was more or less what we’ve been hearing; rumors of wicked sorcery, depravity, necromancy, sacrificing virgins. The whole bit.” Hua Cheng snorted. “I know. I’ll admit, there was something odd about the boy he had with him. He was a ghost, but not a ghost.”

“Oh?”

“Or at least he was both alive and not alive at the same time. I may need San Lang’s expertise on that. Anyway, I got more information at the market, from sources they’ve actually interacted with. If they’re to be believed, the people up on that mountain with him are just common folk. Most of them are elderly, or ill. Somebody mentioned there might even be a child.” Xie Lian sighed, remembering their dust covered clothes and gaunt faces. “You should have seen them, San Lang. I had to help just a little.”

“Gege cannot be faulted for his unending generosity.” Hua Cheng pressed a kiss to the top of his head and Xie Lian smiled, turning around in his arms.

“Ah, speaking of, I may have spent all the allowance you gave me on radishes.” 

“No matter. I’ll just give you more.”

Xie Lian stood up on his toes to kiss Hua Cheng’s pale, cool cheek before turning back around to stir the wok. 

“Did you come to any conclusions?” Hua Cheng asked.

“Hm.” Xie Lian poked at a blackened piece of radish stuck to the bottom of the pan. “Maybe we can plant some of them in the garden.”

“An excellent idea, but I was referring to the Yiling Patriarch.”

“Oh, right. I still need some more information, but there was something I found very troubling.”

“What’s that?”

“I managed to get a hold of him long enough to check his pulse. San Lang…I think it’s worse than we feared.” 

Xie Lian could still feel the erratic beat of it under his fingertips. Wei Wuxian’s thin wrist looked almost fragile in his grasp while he searched for spiritual energy along his meridians, and was surprised to find that he had none. 

But that was not the problem. No, what scared Xie Lian was that he was not empty. He was a vacuum. 

Wei Wuxian was a dying star collapsing in on himself, and Xie Lian didn’t know how to save him.

---

Wei Wuxian would think he was dreaming if his dreams were ever this kind to him. Lan Wangji was there, standing in front of him, tall and serious and more handsome than ever. Could he have gotten more handsome? Was such a thing even possible? Wei Wuxian’s memory was poor, but even he should have remembered the sweet curve of his cheekbone, the slight pout of his mouth above a strong jawline. 

And he was in Yiling, of all places! Night hunting, of all things! The gods must really have been smiling on him that day for such a happy coincidence to occur. He wondered how an incident warranting the attention of one of the Twin Jades could be occurring so nearby without him hearing of it. He was about to get more details from Lan Wangji when A-Yuan’s hand slipped from his grip and he started a wobbly run towards a side street. 

“A-Yuan!” Wei Wuxian called after him. Wen Qing was going to skin him alive and grind his bones for medicine if she ever found out he’d lost track of him twice in one afternoon. “A-Yuan, you really can’t keep running off like—oh! Daozhang, it’s you!”

“White-gege!” A-Yuan called out, falling face first into the snowy skirts of the strange little cultivator, Hua Lian. 

Hua Lian had become a regular buyer of their Burial Mound radishes. Wei Wuxian privately joked that he was trying to feed a small village with the amount he purchased, but thought it prudent not to ask too many questions of their best customer. Wei Wuxian had followed up on his business plan of bringing A-Yuan along to garner pity, which had worked as well as he hoped it would. Thus, A-Yuan had met the “white-gege” on a number of occasions. 

However, Hua Lian was not alone today. Behind him trailed a tall young master dressed in rich red robes, the loose hair from his ponytail framing a sharp chin and haughty expression. He couldn’t have been much older than Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, and looked like he came from a respectable family, but Wei Wuxian was certain they’d never met. 

“Hi there!” Hua Lian said with a salute as A-Yuan did his best to climb him like a tree. Hua Lian laughed, hoisting A-Yuan up onto his hip. “Hello, A-Yuan. Have you gotten taller since I last saw you?”

A-Yuan giggled, hiding his face in Hua Lian’s collar. The other man’s arrogant face softened into a warm smile as he looked down at Hua Lian with a child in his arms. Wei Wuxian was beginning to suspect who this man in red might be. 

“Aiya, he grows like a bean sprout, but he’s heavy as a sack of potatoes,” Wei Wuxian said, reaching out to pinch one of A-Yuan’s feet. A-Yuan squirmed away from him, closer to the young man, where he noticed a braid threaded with a red bead hanging out of his ponytail. A-Yuan reached out to grab it and Wei Wuxian caught his hand. “A-Yuan, don’t bother the nice gege, ah—”

“It’s alright,” the man said, swinging the braid for A-Yuan, his smile just as friendly but less sincere as he addressed Wei Wuxian, “he has good taste.”

“Oh, sorry, let me introduce you!” Hua Lian said. “This is my husband, San Lang.”

“Yes, your husband!” Wei Wuxian bowed and kept his expression pleasant as his mind raced. He was collecting pieces to what was becoming a more interesting and intricate puzzle by the moment. How did this wandering cultivator settle down with this aristocratic young man who used a peasant’s name? Who were these people? “So nice to finally meet you. How have you liked the radishes?”

“They’re always delicious when gege prepares them,” San Lang said with a grin that could only be described as smug. 

“Eh? I should get his recipes then. I’ve run out of ways to enjoy radishes.”

“Wei Ying…” Lan Wangji interjected behind him.

Wei Wuxian watched Hua Lian’s face as Lan Wangji revealed his real name. He only kept smiling, not indicating any kind of surprise, but Wei Wuxian grimaced anyway at being caught in a lie. 

Lan Wangji was looking at Wei Wuxian, seeming to realize he may have made a mistake, but Wei Wuxian just shook his head minutely in reassurance. He knew by now Hua Lian meant him no harm. He probably figured out his real identity long ago and had been too kind to say anything.

Wei Wuxian reached out to tug lightly at Lan Wangji’s sleeve, bringing him to stand beside him. Lan Wangji was still holding the toys he had just bought for A-Yuan, not looking phased or embarrassed by it at all. Wei Wuxian had never stopped to think of the possibility of Lan Wangji being a father one day, but he was suddenly struck with the idea that it might really suit him. Standing together, facing Hua Lian and his husband, Wei Wuxian was filled with an overwhelming emotion he couldn’t quite name. 

“Lan Zhan, this is my friend Hua Lian from the market. This is Hanguang-jun, Lan Wangji. You’ve probably heard of him,” he said with some small amount of pride. “Very righteous, very respected and renowned.”

“Actually no,” San Lang said with disingenuous politeness, “we haven’t. How odd.”

Wei Wuxian narrowed his eyes at him. How did a saint like Hua Lian end up with this brat?

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hanguang-jun,” Hua Lian said, truly gracious enough for the both of them.

“We were just about to eat, would you like to join us?” Wei Wuxian offered.

Lan Wangji’s expression soured and Wei Wuxian had to stifle a laugh. Wei Wuxian knew he didn’t care for strangers, but did he really have to sulk at the aspect of eating with a couple other people who weren’t Wei Wuxian? 

“Ah, no, that’s alright,” Hua Lian said, setting A-Yuan down. A-Yuan had managed to unravel the bandage around Hua Lian’s wrist and was playing with it as though it were a live thing, chatting animatedly as he wrapped it around his finger. 

“Are you sure?” Then, just to see what Lan Wangji’s face would do, he added, “We wouldn’t mind the company!”

Lan Wangji did not disappoint, and scowled at the ground. 

“We’re trying not to eat at restaurants when we still have so many radishes at home,” San Lang said. 

" So many radishes,” Hua Lian emphasized. 

“Alright, well when you run out, you know where to find me! Say goodbye to the geges, A-Yuan, time to go.” A-Yuan executed an adorable, if clumsy, bow before being beckoned over by Wei Wuxian. However, instead of taking a hold of his hand, he reached up for Lan Wangji. “Wow, you’ll really favor anybody but your Xian-gege, huh?”

Lan Wangji patiently handed A-Yuan his toy sword and smoothed down his hair before taking a hold of his chubby, little hand. 

They said their farewells to Hua Lian and San Lang and continued their walk to the restaurant. 

“Hua Lian has been a bit of a blessing. The people of Yiling didn’t know what to think of us before he started buying from us. They’ve warmed up to us now, because of him,” Wei Wuxian felt the need to explain. Lan Wangji did seem to relax at the comment. 

“I am glad Wei Ying has been treated kindly,” Lan Wangji said. 

“Say, Lan Zhan, don't they seem a bit familiar to you? Aside from me having met Hua Lian before, I mean.” 

“Mn,” Lan Wangji nodded, a frown tugging down the corner of his mouth, confirming Wei Wuxian’s lingering suspicions. It was validating to know Lan Wangji must have had similar thoughts to Wei Wuxian while they interacted with them earlier. 

“But we don’t know them, do we? Or their families?”

Lan Wangji thought for a moment before slowly shaking his head. Wei Wuxian nodded. Lan Wangji’s memory was much more reliable than his own. If he said they’d never met before, then they must not have. 

“Huh.” Wei Wuxian shrugged as they arrived outside the restaurant. “Well, don’t worry about them just now, Lan Zhan. We should catch up with each other! Remember, I’m buying, so get whatever you want!”

---

On the outskirts of Yiling, Hua Cheng’s footsteps grew heavier as he shifted back into his true form. Xie Lian appeared even smaller next to him as he stretched to his full height. Hua Cheng wordlessly took Xie Lian’s hand, rolling his dice in the other, and transported them back to their home on Mount Taicing. 

“I was hoping you’d get a chance to talk to him longer, or get close enough to touch him,” Xie Lian said, breaking the silence now that they were truly alone. “I didn’t expect him to have company.”

“No worries, gege, I got everything I needed.”

“And?”

“Your suspicions were correct. He’s a cultivator without a core. He’s practically a walking graveyard with the amount of demons and ghosts clinging to him. It’s amazing he could even speak, let alone function normally.”

“Hm.” Xie Lian sank into a seat, tilting his head up at him. “You’re impressed by him, I can tell.”

“I’m intrigued,” Hua Cheng said, sitting down next to him. Xie Lian raised an eyebrow and Hua Cheng conceded, “Also a little impressed, yes. I wish we knew his methods. He has spiritual tools.”

“The flute.” Xie Lian nodded.

“Yes, the flute, and something else. Something older, I could sense it on him. Tools aside, I’m not sure how he’s doing it. But whatever it is, it’s not sustainable.” 

“I’m sure it won’t be as simple as telling him to stop,” Xie Lian said ruefully.

“It doesn’t seem that way, no.”

Hua Cheng shifted closer to his husband, putting an arm around his waist and letting Xie Lian lean against him as he stared thoughtfully into the distance. Just like Hua Cheng knew it would do no good to warn Wei Wuxian of the harm he was causing himself, Hua Cheng also knew he could not tell Xie Lian to concern himself less with mortal matters. This new method of cultivation was worth noting, especially if it developed a larger following in the future. But for now, it was just one man. Inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.

However, it mattered to Xie Lian, which meant it mattered to Hua Cheng. 

“Maybe it’s not about stopping him,” Xie Lian mused. “Maybe it’s helping his situation. Maybe it’s giving him better tools.” 

“All good ideas, gege.” 

“Maybe he just needs to know someone believes in him,” Xie Lian said, eyes lifting up to Hua Cheng with a complicated expression. 

Hua Cheng froze, several things sliding into place very quickly, and he pulled Xie Lian closer to kiss the top of his head.

He was beginning to understand why Xie Lian was so hellbent on helping this boy. Hua Cheng wasn’t sure if it could work, but if Xie Lian wanted to try, then Hua Cheng would be by his side to offer everything he had. 

---

Wei Wuxian was drunk. He sat on the edge of his lotus pond, green shoots bursting through the stench of decay, as a bitter wind bit through his clothing. Not even the alcohol could keep him warm anymore. 

Before, he could keep warm just by circulating—

Ah, but that was before, wasn’t it? No use dwelling on before now. He took another swig from the jar, only to find that it was empty.

“How useless am I?” He asked the cold night air. 

Souls of the dead had taken root just under his ribcage, growing in the muck, threatening to burst out of him just like his beloved lotus sprouts. They clawed at his insides now, desperate for release, for revenge. He was filled to the brim and hollow as a drum at the same time. It was a nauseating combination. 

That night, it was enough to make him actually sick. He retched blood into the plant bed. Everything on this mountain was stained with blood. What did it matter? 

“How useless am I?” He asked his lotus plants. He missed his sister. He missed his brother. And Lan Zhan, he…he…

Wei Wuxian gagged again, but his stomach was empty. 

“How useless am I?”

---

Mu Qing and Feng Xin nervously eyed the plate of rice cakes that Xie Lian placed in front of them after he poured their tea. 

“Don’t worry, I bought these in town,” he said, keeping his exasperation in check as he slid the plate closer to them. Mu Qing let out a breath and Feng Xin happily picked up two of them, placing one in front of Mu Qing. Xie Lian smiled. It was worth a little self-deprecation to see his two friends get along. 

“How have you been, Dianxia?” Feng Xin asked, mouth full of sesame and red bean. “Followers keeping you busy?”

“Were you raised in a barn? Speak to him after you’ve swallowed, you heathen,” Mu Qing snapped. 

Xie Lian sighed. He had already jinxed it and the truce hadn’t lasted after all. Feng Xin just rolled his eyes, pointing at the rice cake and nodding, indicating it was good without speaking so Mu Qing wouldn’t scold him again. Mu Qing frowned, picking his own cake up to take a bite, and letting out a surprised little “Mm!” as he chewed. 

The two mollified for the moment, Xie Lian answered Feng Xin’s question.

“Just the usual, actually. Nothing too exciting.”

“Really?” Feng Xin frowned. “It’s been chaos for most of us in the heavens. You may not have heard, but we were discussing what to do in the communication array just this morning.”

“Discussing what? Has something happened?”

“You really haven’t heard?” Mu Qing asked. “That Yiling Patriarch killed the son of the Jin Sect leader, his own shijie’s husband.” 

Xie Lian’s blood froze, his stomach sinking. He hadn’t visited Yiling in a few weeks, but it had been quiet for so long now. He thought that it might really have blown over. He should have known better, considering his own history, how one's past can never really be let go. How quickly things can get out of hand. 

“Wei Wuxian?” Xie Lian asked, tamping down the panic rising in his chest.

“That’s the one,” Feng Xin confirmed. “My followers have been uneasy about him for a while, but now they’re really frightened.”

“We’ve been called to intervene,” Mu Qing added, “but I don’t really know what they expect us to do. He’s an abomination, certainly, but it’s not as though we can smite him from above. He’s still human.”

“As far as we know,” Feng Xin pointed out. “He spends enough time with ghosts and demons. It might be worth looking into.” 

“You can’t!” Xie Lian blurted out. They both stared and Xie Lian cleared his throat, looking down at his teacup to avoid their gaze. “I mean. You shouldn’t. Just leave him alone.”

“Dianxia?”

“Can’t you send some dreams to your followers to reassure them? I don’t think he would harm anyone without reason. Maybe he was provoked, or had to defend himself.”

“It’s worse than that,” Mu Qing explained. “He has an undead general that he controls with crafty tricks. Along with the Jin Sect heir, they killed hundreds of innocent disciples from multiple sects. It was a massacre.” 

“That can’t be right.” Xie Lian shook his head. “No, it…I’ll look into this right away. Just leave it for now.”

“Why would you look into it when your followers haven’t—”

“Wei Wuxian is under my protection,” Xie Lian admitted with some distress. “I know him. I’ve met him. I can figure out what happened, I’ll take care of it.”

Feng Xin and Mu Qing were both silent for several seconds before communicating to each other with a shared look. 

“Xie Lian,” Mu Qing sighed, setting down his teacup, “we can understand why you would take interest in a person like this, we really do.”

“But he’s a necromancer, a demonic cultivator, it’s the path he’s chosen,” Feng Xin continued. “I’m sure Wei Wuxian himself is not the one praying to you. Am I wrong?”

He was not. Xie Lian knew the expression on his face confirmed as much for Feng Xin.

“You can’t help somebody who doesn’t want to be helped,” Mu Qing said gently. 

“How do you know he doesn’t want help? How do you know this choice was of his own making? You know the kind of decisions a person can make when you feel like you're backed into a corner. Weren’t we just as desperate once? Didn’t we all make choices too?”

“Dianxia...” Feng Xin gave him a pained expression. 

“Tell the other gods to hold off. Let me speak with him.”

“Alright,” Mu Qing said. Feng Xin raised his eyebrows at him, but didn’t contradict him. 

Xie Lian nodded. He picked up his teacup, alarmed to see his hand was shaking. He set the cup back down, still avoiding the pitying looks from his friends. 

“Please,” he sighed, smiling weakly, “finish your tea.” 

---

He had to walk half a day to find the temple, but at last it was within his sight. It had been drizzling rain for the past hour and his hair and robes were sticking uncomfortably to his skin. He adjusted his appearance as best he could before saluting the attendant within the shrine. Like many of the temples devoted to the Flower Crown Martial God, it was a humble affair, but it was warm, dry, and welcoming all the same.

He nearly dropped to his knees before he remembered always being told that the Crown Prince preferred for people not to kneel. He bowed instead, feeling awkward as he lit the incense. Then, as an afterthought, he lit a second stick for Crimson Rain Sought Flower. He didn’t make a habit of praying to ghosts, but rumor was they were more powerful when prayed to together. Besides, considering who he was praying for, asking a ghost as well as a god couldn’t hurt. 

“Please protect Wei Wuxian,” he whispered into his folded hands. “Please save him from himself.”

---

Wei Wuxian was three jars of wine deep when his alarm talisman burst into flame. Someone had broken through his barrier. They were coming to the Burial Mounds. 

He took another long sip of wine, let it pour out the corners of his mouth, dripping down his neck and into the collar of his robes. 

What did it matter? What did any of it matter? Let them come. He’ll kill them all. 

Sure enough, Wen Ning came running to the mouth of his cave moments later. 

“G-Gongzi,” he said, “they’re here, it’s—”

“I know,” he said, taking another swig of wine. “How many?”

“Two.”

“Two?” Wei Wuxian narrowed his eyes. “Two clans?”

“No, Wei-gongzi, two people. From the market, it’s—”

“Wei Wuxian?” A soft voice called from behind Wen Ning. “We just want to talk.”

The white-robed cultivator and his surly husband. The souls that clung to him, that whispered into his ear night and day, suddenly rose to a din. He flinched, pressing a hand to his ear. 

“Come in.”

As they crossed the threshold the voices of the dead abruptly went silent. Wei Wuxian tried to make eye contact with San Lang, but he only trailed after his husband, a bored expression on his face. Interesting.

Wei Wuxian pushed off from the corner of the cave he had been sitting in, leading them to the low table toward the back. He could at least pretend to be civilized, if only for a moment. 

“Wine?” He asked, lifting the jar in his hand. Then, giving Hua Lian a pointed look he said, “We don’t have tea, sorry. I can have Wen Ning fetch water for you.”

“There’s no need,” Hua Lian said smoothly. “Wei Wuxian, we heard about what happened. I’d like to—”

“You knew who I was,” Wei Wuxian interrupted. He was strangely on edge without the presence of spirits around him. “The whole time, you knew I was Wei Wuxian, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he said calmly. 

“Then I should probably tell you I’ve figured out who you are. I know why you look so familiar to me, especially together.”

They both sat and stared silently at him. There was still a chance he was wrong, but of all the endless things he had been blamed for, no one had ever accused him of being stupid. 

“Crimson Rain Sought Flower and the Crown Prince of Xianle,” he said with a bit more conviction than he felt. “Right?”

“That’s right,” Taizi Danxia said. 

Wei Wuxian nodded. Drank again. He had guessed it himself, but still found himself stunned. An immortal and a ghost king. Huh.

“Huh,” he said out loud. Then, he suddenly came to his senses, and began to shift onto his knees to kneel. “Should I…?”

“No no,” Taizi Danxia said, waving his hands, “that’s really not necessary.”

“Hm,” Crimson Rain huffed, as though he disagreed.

“I thought you’d look different,” Wei Wuxian admitted to Crimson Rain. 

“I bet,” he said with a wry grin. His canine teeth were abnormally sharp.

Wei Wuxian drained the rest of his wine, and neither of them made an attempt to start the conversation again, so Wei Wuxian got to the heart of it. 

“Why did you come find me? In the marketplace?” 

“Would you believe me if I said it was a complete coincidence?” Taizi Danxia offered. 

Wei Wuxian snorted. It was almost endearing to know that a god could be such a poor liar. 

“You have some ego, boy, if you think he came to Yiling just for you,” Crimson Rain drawled.

“Then why are you here now? Why did we keep meeting?” he demanded. He looked back and forth between the two of them. “Have I angered the heavens? Or I’ve angered the dead? You’re all against me, is that it?”

Crimson Rain rolled his eyes. 

“You’re really not as important as you think you are.”

“San Lang…” Taizi Danxia quietly admonished, before turning back to him. “Wei Wuxian, the truth is that while there are many who curse you, there is someone who prays for you.”

Wei Wuxian blinked.

“So you decided to personally check in?”

“It’s not unheard of,” Taizi Danxia said with a shrug, but his gaze was evasive. 

“And now what?” Wei Wuxian asked, keeping his voice even as he drew Chenqing from his belt, twirling it anxiously in his hand. “Now that you’ve seen me. Now that you know what I’ve done.”

“I want to help.”

“You can’t help me,” Wei Wuxian said, his mouth twisting into a sad smile. “Even if you knew how to fix—that is, do you know about…?”

“Your golden core?” Taizi Danxia finished for him. “I’m not sure of any solution to that right now, but maybe with a little more time—”

“Ah, time is something I’m a little short on lately,” Wei Wuxian said lightly. He had long lost hope of restoring his golden core, but it still stung every time it seemed like another option might be in reach, only to have it snatched away again. “It wouldn’t matter anyway. I’ve made my choices.”

“You see, gege?” Crimson Rain said, crossing his arms. Taizi Danxia put his hand on Crimson Rain’s knee, and he looked down, appearing chastised. Among the whiplash of this conversation, Wei Wuxian still couldn’t help but be fascinated by their dynamic. They acted like any married couple; it was easy to forget they were both immortal beings.

Suddenly, Wei Wuxian realized he had an opportunity. When would he ever be this close to an intervention, divine or otherwise, again?

“Can you help the Wen Clan instead?” he asked. “The two of you are so powerful. Can you protect them?”

Wei Wuxian’s stomach was already sinking as he watched Taizi Danxia’s straight brow begin to furrow. 

“You understand, as a god, I can’t interfere much with mortal matters, but—”

“What good is being a god if you can’t do anything?” Wei Wuxian snapped.

Then Crimson Rain stood up, towering over Wei Wuxian from his full height, which was…taller than before. His shoulders were broader, and his hair had come loose. As Wei Wuxian’s gaze climbed higher, he was met by a glare from a single, dark eye. 

He had faced true horrors and terrors here in the Burial Mounds, he had seen nightmares come to life, but he’d be foolish not to fear a ghost king in his true form.

“You watch your mouth when you speak to his highness,” he hissed, voice dangerously low.

“It’s alright, San Lang,” Taizi Danxia said, placating once again. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed. “I used to say something similar.”

Wei Wuxian shook his head, bowing a little. He was forgetting himself. Or he had forgotten, maybe, a long time ago.

“No, he’s right. I apologize. I don’t mean to be disrespectful. I’m—” There were tears rolling down his cheeks, but he couldn’t even be embarrassed. He was what? Overwhelmed? Empty? Enraged? Numb? “I’m just…”

“I know,” Taizi Danxia said with more empathy and understanding than Wei Wuxian could ever deserve. “Wei Wuxian, how old are you?”

“I’m nineteen.” He wiped his face, thought a minute. “Or, maybe I’m twenty. I’m not sure what day it is. If I’m not twenty yet, I will be soon.”

“So young to be so troubled and serious,” he said, not unkindly. Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure if he could ever be unkind.

“I’m far from serious. Ask anyone, they’ll tell you.” He deflected with a laugh but it fell flat. “Everyone must seem young to you.”

“Wei Wuxian, what I tried to say earlier is that I cannot interfere as a god, but I would like to offer some advice,” Taizi Danxia folded his hands in his lap and looked up at him with large, doe eyes, “as a friend.”

Friendly advice from a god. There were not many occasions where Wei Wuxian was struck speechless, but he could only nod. 

“You can’t save everyone,” he continued.

Wei Wuxian opened his mouth to argue, but Crimson Rain, who had not sat down but moved to stand behind his husband, raised his hand to stop him from speaking.

“Let him finish, or so help me,” he growled.

Wei Wuxian snapped his mouth shut. Taizi Danxia did not placate or make apologies for anyone that time, only continuing to look at him, sympathetically but with gravity. 

“You can’t save everyone without destroying yourself,” he finished. “That is the price. Even now, many have already been lost.”

Wei Wuxian clenched Chenqing in his fist, working his jaw in an effort not to cry again.

“So what do I do?” It barely came out as a whisper, but Taizi Danxia still heard.

“Keep those you love close. Let them be your light, and let them guide you. It’s easy to get lost in the dark when it seems like there’s no way out.”

“I’m doing this to protect the people I love,” Wei Wuxian said, helpless. “I’m doing what needs to be done, what no one else is willing to do.”

“My child, you are only one person. No matter how powerful you become, I have learned that you need to know when to ask for help.”

Wei Wuxian didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Who would help me?”

“You’ve helped so many. There are those who have gone out of their way to see you, even now. Is there truly no one you can turn to?” He said it so meaningfully that Wei Wuxian knew he was referring to someone specific. He didn’t know how omniscient gods could be, but he had met them in the market that day. He must have followed up, he must have known.

“I couldn’t ask that of him.” Wei Wuxian shook his head. “Of anyone.” 

“Wei Wuxian, you need not ask,” Taizi Danxia said, his patience seeming to wear thin for the first time since they began speaking, “I have heard him offer.” 

“I don’t want the kind of help he’s offering.” They didn’t understand. How could they? Nobody could. “He, he thinks he can…it’s too late. It’s too late for anything.”

“You’re wasting your breath, gege,” Crimson Rain said. Instead of any derision or condescension coloring his voice, Wei Wuxian only sensed pity, which was certainly worse. 

“Think about what I said, Wei Wuxian,” Taizi Danxia said, standing to leave.

“Thank you, Dianxia,” Wei Wuxian said, remembering his manners at last.

“Just Xie Lian is fine,” he said with a small smile. 

“It’s ‘Dianxia’ in front of me, if you know what’s good for you,” Crimson Rain muttered.

The two turned to leave, and Wei Wuxian rapidly flipped back to part of the conversation he was only just coming to process.

“Wait,” he called out, and they both stopped to look at him. “You said there’s someone who prays for me. I don’t suppose you would tell me who that is?”

“I don’t think he would like it if I did,” he said apologetically. 

Wei Wuxian nodded, still seated on the floor. The ghost and the god took their leave, and he was alone.

---

“That was very good of you, San Lang,” Xie Lian said as they made their way down the mountain, away from the Burial Mounds.

“Gege?” Hua Cheng feigned ignorance.

“Dissipating the spirits around him. I felt it when it happened, and it wasn’t my doing.”

Hua Cheng sighed, sliding one hand around Xie Lian’s waist as he reached for his dice. 

“It won’t make a difference. He’ll just attract more soon.” 

“Still. You didn’t have to and it was a very generous act. Sometimes, we don’t even realize how much we’ve been suffering until it stops. It’s easy to get used to pain. Providing him some relief, even only temporarily, might give him the hope he needs to continue.”

Xie Lian tipped up onto his toes to give his cheek a kiss before they left for Paradise Manor. 

It was only a day later when Hua Cheng received the news from a subordinate. 

“Fuck,” he cursed. 

Xie Lian had already been alerted by the heavens, but when they traveled together to the Burial Mounds it was already too late. The little wooden houses were smoldering, the rows of radishes trampled.

They were able to answer one last prayer at the Burial Mounds, and Hua Cheng hoped that would be enough to console Xie Lian. 

When they returned home, the spirit world was in uproar. So many new dead, so many lost, dangerous souls released to the world without a master anymore. He attended to matters as quickly as he could, but did not see Xie Lian for several hours. When he was finally able to leave, he began looking in all the usual places for Xie Lian. When he couldn’t locate him immediately, he knew where he must be. 

Hua Cheng entered Qiandeng Temple where Xie Lian was seated on the floor, listless and sighing. 

“Gege?” Hua Cheng called, announcing his presence before going to sit next to him. Xie Lian kept his gaze fixed on the altar, silent tears slipping down reddened cheeks. 

“It’s all they’re talking about in the communication array. Most of them are happy to have him gone. The ‘issue’ is resolved,” he said bitterly. “We were all receiving prayers about it, but no one could find a way to ethically intervene, so now it will be back to business as usual. At last.”

“Useless. All they do is talk.”

“Maybe they’re right,” he sniffed. “Maybe this is just another fated mortal tragedy. I always get too involved, that’s what they say.”

“When has that trash in the heavens ever known anything about anything, gege?”

Xie Lian was quiet for a few moments and Hua Cheng wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Xie Lian leaned into his touch, but still seemed lost in thought. 

“I had already ascended by the time I faced anything like the hardships Wei Wuxian dealt with,” Xie Lian said. “He was so young, San Lang. He had people who loved him. And everyone is celebrating the fact that he’s gone.”

“Not everyone, if what you say is true,” Hua Cheng said. “There will be those who mourn him properly so he can be at rest.” 

“They haven’t even found his body yet,” Xie Lian said with a sigh. 

“No?”

Xie Lian shook his head, more tears tracing down the side of his nose. Hua Cheng ached for his husband. That anyone had caused him to feel such despondence was unacceptable. Hua Cheng had vowed that he would never let any harm come to him, no matter how large or small, and he would not break that vow today. 

“Gege,” Hua Cheng said, “there might be something I can do for him.”

“San Lang?” Xie Lian looked up at him with hopeful eyes. 

Ah, that was already better. Hua Cheng used the edge of his sleeve to gently dab at his cheeks. 

“If I can get to his body first,” Hua Cheng continued, “I can get his ashes.”

“San Lang,” Xie Lian breathed, “do you mean…?”

“Don’t give up yet, gege,” he said. “You can keep your promise. We can still protect him.”

---13 Years Later---

Wei Wuxian was happy. 

His lips were still bruised from kissing, but he smiled anyway. Lan Wangji loved him, and he was alive.

Lan Wangji loved him, and he was alive.

They had been on the road for two days now since Guanyin Temple. They slept under the stars, found new ways to make each other blush, and woke up in the morning with no real destination in mind. 

Wei Wuxian was so, so happy. 

They were in a small fishing village outside Yunmeng when they stumbled upon the temple. Wei Wuxian stopped in his tracks, Lil Apple protesting as her reins were tugged. Lan Wangji turned and raised his chin inquisitively. 

“We should go in,” Wei Wuxian said, nodding toward the temple. 

“Crown Prince of Xianle and Crimson Rain Sought Flower,” Lan Wangji read from the plaque above the door. 

“My shijie used to take me to their temples when I was little,” Wei Wuxian explained as he secured Lil Apple to a nearby tree. “They’re not worshiped that widely in gentry families, most cultivators don’t know what to make of the relationship between a god and a ghost. I think Shijie thought it was romantic. It’s said they bless marriages, but she’d get embarrassed when I brought it up.”

Lan Wangji’s expression was soft as he took his hand and they stepped over the threshold together.

“She told me they were lucky, too. That I should pray to them when things seemed impossible, because they had unorthodox methods for providing assistance when everything seemed lost. Maybe that’s why I liked them. I’ve always been a little unorthodox too, eh Lan Zhan?”

“Mn.”

They lit incense together, but as Lan Wangji sank down to kneel, Wei Wuxian reached and took him by the elbow.

“Ah, he said he doesn’t like kneeling.”

“He?”

Wei Wuxian blinked. Well. There were certainly stranger things about himself that Lan Wangji had already accepted, what was one more?

“Aha, Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian scratched the back of his neck. “Would you believe me if I told you I’ve met them before?”

“I would,” he said readily. 

“Lan Zhan, you’re too much, really.” Wei Wuxian laughed, leaning into him. “Of course you believe me. Oh! Actually, you’ve met them too! Do you remember when we ran into that cultivator and his husband in Yiling? We were with A-Yuan.”

“I do,” he said. “They had been looking after you.”

“They were my customers, Lan Zhan. But yes, I suppose that’s what they were really doing. They visited me in the Burial Mounds once too. They tried to do more for me, they really did, but you know how I was back then.”

Lan Wangji said nothing, but he squeezed his hand, and that was enough. 

They pressed their hands together in prayer, quiet together for a few moments. 

It was funny. Wei Wuxian had been thinking of the god and the ghost king ever since he had returned, but now that the whole orchestration of his resurrection had been revealed, he was doubting they had anything to do with it after all. They probably didn’t even remember him after all this time. Immortals lived so long, how much of an impression could one man’s life leave? 

He thanked them all the same, remembering Xie Lian’s kind face, the way the souls in his head would quiet in Hua Cheng’s presence. Then, another memory surfaced. Something Xie Lian had said to him long ago.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said slowly. “You didn’t know not to kneel.”

“I know of them, but we do not have their temples in Gusu. I have not come to one before.”

“I thought…Xie Lian—I mean, Taizi Dianxia, no offense.” He bowed to the idol for Crimson Rain. “He told me once that someone was praying to him for me. I always assumed it was you.”

Lan Wangji shook his head. 

“Then who…” As Wei Wuxian wracked his brains, another face came to mind. It wasn’t just him that his shijie had brought to those temples when they were young. It wasn’t just him who heard shijie’s stories. 

“Oh, Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian whispered. “You bastard.”

Lan Wangji pulled him close, hugging him from behind as they silently watched their incense burn down. 

“I will have a temple built for them in Gusu,” Lan Wangji said. 

“I’d like that,” Wei Wuxian said, feeling sober. “I think they’d like that too.” 

“They bless marriages?”

“Mhmm. That’s what shijie said, anyway.”

“Wei Ying. Marry me?”

Wei Wuxian grinned, wide and unbidden across his face as he turned in Lan Wangji’s arms.

“Right here? Right now?”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji confirmed. 

They quickly lit more incense. Wei Wuxian felt certain that Taizi Dianxia and Crimson Rain Sought Flower would not object to kneeling if it was for their wedding bows. 

---

“I’ve never been to Gusu before,” Xie Lian said, turning around the temple, delighted. “I like it, don’t you?”

“Any temple devoted to gege is worth having,” Hua Cheng said as he inspected the statues that had been carved for them. These had been made from the same stone, which was a nice touch, Xie Lian thought, rather than having them as two separate pieces placed next to each other. “Not bad, though.”

“A glowing review!”

“You’re teasing me, gege.”

Xie Lian laughed, tilting his face up to kiss his husband. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry, we can come back when—Dianxia?”

Xie Lian whipped his head around, and in the doorway were two men, one in black and the other in white.

“Wei Wuxian!” Xie Lian called out, running towards him, arms outstretched and pulling him into a hug. A basket of fruit and other offerings that Wei Wuxian had been carrying were uncomfortably squished between them. “Oh, it’s so good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you too,” Wei Wuxian said, seeming a little overwhelmed. Or maybe Xie Lian was just hugging too tightly again.

“Oops, haha,” Xie Lian laughed sheepishly. “I got a little carried away. But you look well!”

“I am, I am,” he said, frazzled but smiling. “Ah, we built this temple, but I didn’t really think you’d come.”

“Well, I had to come congratulate you in person,” Xie Lian said, acknowledging Lan Wangji with a bow. “Hanguang-jun, it’s good to see you as well.”

“I guess word would have gotten to you, huh?” Wei Wuxian laughed. Lan Wangji went to Wei Wuxian’s side at that, and bowed his greetings as well. Xie Lian wasn’t sure if he was too stunned to speak, or was truly just a man of few words. “Yep, Lan Zhan is stuck with me forever now.”

“Well done,” Xie Lian said with a wink, getting a shocked laugh out of Wei Wuxian. 

“I hoped you wouldn’t mind when we used your temple.”

“Not at all! We were honored that you thought of us.”

“We,” Wei Wuxian repeated, letting his gaze wander to Hua Cheng. “Ah, Crimson Rain, I really hope I didn’t cause too much trouble, before.” 

“Nothing gege and I couldn’t handle,” he said, stepping up beside Xie Lian and resting his hand at the small of his back. 

Please don’t tell him, Hua Cheng said into their private communication array. 

You kept his soul safe all those years, Xie Lian said. You repaired it so it would survive resurrection. Don’t you think he’d like to know? 

Not today. Not yet. It’d be bad for my reputation. 

Yes, dear. Xie Lian smiled, nodding along to some story Wei Wuxian was telling about Cloud Recesses. 

Besides, don’t you have something you’d like to tell him too?

Xie Lian was about to reply, when they were interrupted. 

“Wei-qianbei?” Another voice called from outside. “Hanguang-jun? Are you still here?”

“A-Yuan!” Wei Wuxian called back. “We’re here, just catching up with some old friends.”

A young man wearing the Lan headband, his face still round with youth, appeared in the doorway. 

“A-Yuan?” Xie Lian repeated, unexpectedly overwhelmed with emotion. A-Yuan looked at him, curious but polite.

“That’s right, Dianxia,” Wei Wuxian said, then, to A-Yuan, “They knew you when you were very little, so you probably won’t remember—”

“White-gege!” A-Yuan said, his face breaking into a smile, and oh, he looked just like the dust-covered little boy Xie Lian remembered. “Red-gege!”

“Well how do you like that?” Wei Wuxian said, hands on his hips. “I practically raised the boy and he doesn’t remember me for months, but he meets you maybe twice and recognizes you on sight!”

“Hello, A-Yuan,” Xie Lian said gently, resisting the urge to cry and also ruffle his hair. 

“I thought I dreamed you,” he said, eyes wide with wonder. “In the Burial Mounds, I thought it was a dream.”

“In the Burial Mounds?” Wei Wuxian frowned. “What?”

I guess we only get to keep one secret today, Xie Lian said.

Hua Cheng sighed in the array, but kept his face neutral. 

“Right before I was taken to Cloud Recesses, when I had a fever, I saw all kinds of things I only half-remembered later. But one image that stayed with me was a figure in red and one in white,” A-Yuan explained. Then, to Xie Lian, “You sang to me.”

Xie Lian rubbed his forehead. “Aha, you remember that?”

“I was lying in your lap,” A-Yuan said to Hua Cheng, oblivious to the embarrassment from both of them. “There was something in your hair you let me hold, it was swinging over me.”

Hua Cheng actually smiled at that. His husband didn’t have patience for many, but he’d always had a soft-spot for A-Yuan. 

“Oh?” he said, pulling the braid forward from the long fall of his hair, with the coral pearl threaded through it. 

“Yes!” A-Yuan said, becoming emotional himself. “Yes, the red bead. I remember it so well because I…I realized later it couldn’t have been true, but at the time I thought—I thought you were my parents. That my father and mother’s spirits had come to protect me.”

Everyone in the temple was silent for a moment. Wei Wuxian’s eyes welled with tears when he turned to Xie Lian.

“You protected him. I had asked. I had prayed.”

“You did.” To save everyone from further emotional overwhelm, Xie Lian took a deep breath and gave into his urge to pat A-Yuan on the head. “A-Yuan, it’s so good to see you, all grown up! Though I suppose you’re not just ‘A-Yuan’ anymore. What is your courtesy name?”

“Lan Sizhui,” he said proudly. 

“A good name that I can only assume came from your Hanguang-jun,” Hua Cheng said. 

Xie Lian glanced over at Wei Wuxian. He was still in shock, but clearly took no offense at being teased. Maybe he correctly realized that meant Hua Cheng was warming up to him.

“That’s right,” Lan Sizhui said with a smile. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I’ve been so familiar, but I should have asked. How do I address you, Dao—” He cut himself off and turned to Wei Wuxian, puzzled. “Earlier, did you say Dianxia?”

“Haha, never mind that,” Xie Lian said quickly. “Red and white gege will do just fine.”

“I will also accept ‘Most Revered Majesty,’” Hua Cheng added. 

“He’s kidding,” Wei Wuxian said flatly, “don’t call him that.”

Hua Cheng just smiled. 

“Thank you,” Lan Wangji said, speaking for the first time and bowing deeply, “for everything.”

“Ah, no need, no need,” Xie Lian said, taking that as their cue to leave before they could find something new to cry about. There had been enough crying among them for multiple lifetimes, thank you very much!

“You’ll keep hearing from us,” Wei Wuxian said, linking arms with his husband and Lan Sizhui as he addressed him, “if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” Xie Lian said. He felt relieved. A wound that he hadn’t even realized was still open had healed. “I look forward to it.”