Chapter Text
What good fortune! Xie Lian has made off with quite the haul after a day spent collecting scraps. He’s got a new jar for pickling vegetables and a rich wooden hair comb to replace the one he accidentally snapped.
He feels lighter than a petal floating along a spring breeze or a bluebird singing atop the tallest maple tree. If only all days could be as fruitful and blessed and wonderful–
“Daozhang, I’m afraid something horrid has happened while you were away,” says an elderly auntie. Her face is wrinkled like paper and her robes are a sad gray.
Xie Lian takes in her sorrowful expression, her wringing hands, and he comes back down to earth. A few of the Puqi villagers have loosely gathered and they look on from afar, whispering.
“What happened?” he asks. As far as he’s concerned, the sun has not fallen out of the sky nor a mountain toppled over. What could be so bad–?
“Daozhang, while you were away, a great tree collapsed onto your roof.”
“...”
What?! Did one of the farm pigs sprout wings and lay eggs, too?! Has no-good Qi Rong finally grown a conscience and sworn off eating living people?! Something like this will take quite a while to repair on his own. Not to mention funds that the little scrap god simply does not have.
One of the fishermen pipes up and says, “Isn’t that place you stay in a shrine dedicated to that Crowned Prince? The one from… ah, what was it… Xianle? It seems like his misfortune is rubbing off on you!”
And then the brick of a man bursts out laughing as though his joke is so imaginative.
Xie Lian rubs his forehead until it is surely red and says, “I… I hadn’t realized last night’s storm was this bad.”
The elderly auntie plainly replies, “We didn’t either. Apparently your home was the only one damaged at all.”
“Hahaha… of course it was.”
So he slowly makes his way to the ruined shrine, his footsteps unsteady. Feeling the pitiful stares of the entire village, something like embarrassment creeps into his stomach.
And indeed, the damage is severe and irrefutable. An absurdly, comically huge tree has completely smashed the roof in, scattering splinters of wood and moss alike. His poor donation sign is lost in the wreck, too.
Currently looking for generosity and donations from others to help rebuild this–
Bah! Why the sight looks so natural that Xie Lian has trouble believing that it was not always like this. Really, was he so busy marveling at his new pickling jar that he didn’t hear the thunderous crash? He supposes that it was luck enough to have not been inside when it happened.
Imagine the little Puqi villagers coming across his body, flattened like tomato paste.
Xie Lian takes everything in, not moving a bit. And then he sighs, suddenly feeling small and stupid. Because what good is a pickling jar or a new hair comb? What good is anything? No, nothing is good. Nothing is ever good.
Just then, an idea pops into his head, but he does not have the courage to act on it.
The pair of red dice that Hua Cheng had given him sit like stones in his pocket.
“Use them whenever you’d like. I will always come,” he’d said in his easy way.
This definitely seemed like reason enough for sure… and also a little presumptuous. Was he really about to call up the Ghost King, the most feared being in all three realms, as vicious as he is deadly?
What if… what if he’s busy? To get rebuffed might just be enough to do Xie Lian in for good. He’d never recover and this destroyed shack would be his final resting place.
He hears a familiar and melodic voice behind him. “Gege?”
Xie Lian turns to see Hua Cheng, looking every bit a handsome and refreshing youth. A finely cut blade of grass, dewy after rainfall. He wears a white inner layer that is silken like flower petals. His hair is fastened into a messy braid, the coral bead akin to a scarlet moon in the night sky.
Under such an attractive visage, Xie Lian feels his face heating up. He waves a trembling hand behind him and says, “Oh, this is no big deal. Everything is good, everything is always good with me. No need to trouble yourself, hahaha…”
But Hua Cheng does not appear to have heard his words. He simply takes a closer look at the disaster, his eyes sharp and discerning. Yup, the shrine is completely annihilated, no guesswork there.
After a moment, he solemnly asks, “Do you know what this means?”
Xie Lian is taken aback by his serious tone. “... what?”
And then Hua Cheng smiles, charming and reckless in equal measure. “It means you and I are having a sleepover.”
Xie Lian would be content to sleep atop a pile of dried leaves on the ground. Moreso if the leaves are not the poisonous ones that make him itch for days with abandon. Once, for three days and three nights, he could only lay curled on his side as tiny pinpricks shot across his skin. He’d closed his eyes and pretended that he was truly dead.
That had happened several centuries ago, but it’s a memory pushed to the forefront everytime he walks past a purple-spotted bush. And now, he could make even a rotting grave a comfortable place to sleep.
So why, why, why is Hua Cheng having such a lavish room prepared for him at Paradise Manor? The stone-faced attendants rush around, adjusting this, adding that.
Xie Lian feels a little bad and he wants to tell them it’s okay or he wants to jump in and help. But neither of those things feel appropriate to do, so he settles for sitting on the divan and watching apologetically.
Hua Cheng leans against the wall beside him, silently overseeing. He’s traded his white top for a black one, revealing another swirling tattoo on his shoulder that Xie Lian had no clue about. Hua Cheng catches him staring and looks down, his cold features softening.
“Is there anything in particular that you would like?” he asks.
“A bed with a mattress is already a luxury for me, so I’m good,” Xie Lian serenely says. He hadn’t put much thought into his words, but when he peeks at Hua Cheng again, his brows are dark and lowered.
A silence descends over the two for a moment. Xie Lian lightly clears his throat and says, “Thank you again for all of this. I was really just going to stay at the shrine and clean up as best I could.”
Hua Cheng neatly folds his hands behind his back and says, “Really? Gege wouldn’t have called me?”
“I… I didn’t want to bother you,” Xie Lian softly admits. It’s a sentiment that’s been quietly building all this time. But it suddenly feels so, so silly when given voice.
Before he can attempt to take it back, to stuff it back in his mouth, Hua Cheng says, “Bother me? Impossible.”
Xie Lian can hear the smile in his tone. He smooths his robes and calmly says, “It’s very much possible. You have an entire city to run. I would be foolish to think that you would drop what you’re doing and come to me very often.”
“This city and its needs come second only to you.”
Xie Lian doesn’t know what to say to such a thing, so he says nothing. But his heart feels full in a way that it hasn’t since he was a child.
The attendants have just lit the final candle and the room is complete. Lush, thick carpets and gauzy white curtains. A large dresser that is deeper than ink, carefully polished beside a crystal mirror. But what really draws the eye is the bed with sheets the color of rubies and pillows the color of sweet cream.
Opulence that Xie Lian has not known for centuries. He can only stare like a fool for a moment. Confused emotions swirl within; why would the fox walk beside the bunny? To have a bit of fun before devouring its meal?
Still, Xie Lian fixes a smile and politely says, “Thank you very much, San Lang. I deeply appreciate your hospitality.”
If Hua Cheng notices the formal tone, he gives no indication save for a raised eyebrow. Instead, he extends a slender, patient hand. “Are you hungry? Dinner has been prepared.”
Just then, the smell of pork and spices floats through the air, promising what is guaranteed to be a hot, delicious meal. Suddenly the stale bun that Xie Lian ate that morning may as well have been a rock that he choked down.
He lowers his head and quietly says, “San Lang is always doing so much for me. I just hope he isn’t burning himself out for my sake.”
Without missing a beat, Hua Cheng says, “I’ll always burn as brightly as you need me to.”
As though no truth were simpler, no spoken word more universal.
Xie Lian blinks. And then he whispers without thinking, “Then I’ll burn for you, too.”
The Queen of Xianle was a woman of gentle words and soft smiles, believing truly that no one person or thing was any better than another. If the king was a thunderous storm, she was the cool drizzle that fell after.
Xie Lian’s first concrete memory was not of swords or duties, but of his mother reverently watering her flowers in the gardens. And maybe that was his earliest look into what it meant to be devoted.
Dark hair loose like waves around her shoulders, her sleep robes fluttering like leaves in the early morning breeze. If a great wind had come along and swept the palace up into the sky, Xie Lian just knew that she would have been safe in her world of seeds and soil.
Except she had not been safe. Neither she nor his father and anytime he tries to recall them, his head aches.
So he has resolved to leave them in the past, before ruin found them, before ruin found his kingdom. That way, they will always be happy.
Really, sometimes Xie Lian thinks that where he once held a heart, only ash remains in its place. Indifferent and aimless, scattering in whichever way. Do what you can, give what you can, but nothing really matters in the end.
But… but when Hua Cheng looks at him and smiles in his lazy way, Xie Lian can suddenly remember what the ground feels like under his feet. He can perfectly feel his heart soaring in his chest. He feels– he feels alive.
After dinner had been cleared away, the two spent another hour or so just talking, the topics ranging from existential to ridiculous. And throughout, Xie Lian’s laughter came freely, a cascade of water over a cliff’s edge.
“Would gege still like me if I was a worm?”
“Haha, what? Of course I would.”
“Really? But what could we do together?”
“Lots of things! I would put you in a nice, spacious jar with fresh leaves. And when the weather is warm, I could put you on my shoulder and go for walks outside,” Xie Lian finished.
“Hm… then I pray to be born a worm in my next life,” Hua Cheng said, serious as could be.
Which only brought on another bout of giggles from Xie Lian. “San Lang should know that he doesn’t have to be a worm to walk with me.”
Now, Xie Lian lays curled on his side, the thick blankets heavy atop him. When was the last time he dared sleep on something so soft? Who knows? Who cares? He will bask in this feeling like a cat basks in the sun.
He stares out through the arched windows at the distant mountain peaks, wondering what secrets could be found at the place where the valleys meet.
Xie Lian is no stranger to a quiet night, with only the light of fire and the stars to keep him company. But he inwardly finds himself longing for Hua Cheng’s sweet voice to lull him to sleep all the same.
Just then, right when he is on the cusp of dreamland, an odd glow softly illuminates the room. Dim enough to make him question himself, but bright enough to be undeniable. It even reaches the mirror on the far side, casting prisms of gold along the floor.
His eyes find the window once more, only to see a tiny, twinkling sprite beside it. Whether it came from the sky or sea or was there this entire time, he does not know. For one, long moment, he can only stare unblinking.
“Is it true?” it finally asks in its small way.
The carpet is downy underfoot as Xie Lian crosses the room and cracks open the window. The night air is cool and pleasant on his skin. “Is what true, little one?”
The sprite rests on the window sill. It doesn’t have a face, but Xie Lian still gets the impression that it’s looking up at him as it speaks. It asks, “Is it true that you’re Chengzhu’s beloved?”
…!
“Wh-huh? You– I– That–”
Of course, the sprite only takes his embarrassment as affirmation and it chortles in pure delight. “Oh, I knew it! Everybody knew it!”
Elated, it suddenly flies in through the window, laughing and singing. Xie Lian tries in vain to catch it, truly liquid gold slipping through his fingers. He thought it like a star at first, but stars couldn’t possibly be so mischievous! All the while it chirps, “Chengzhu’s beloved, Chengzhu’s beloved!”
Yup. May the earth swallow him whole now. He’s had a good run, all things considered.
The door slides open then and Hua Cheng steps inside, looking every bit a demon lord.
“Get. Out.”
Fearing for its life, the tiny sprite flies out as quickly as it flew in. Immediately after, he stalks over and crisply locks the window. The sudden darkness in the room is nearly unsettling. Hua Cheng is nothing but shadow, save for the glint in his eye.
Before Xie Lian can open his mouth, offer some sort of apology, Hua Cheng beats him to it. “My deepest apologies. It should not have troubled you so and will be dealt with.”
“No, it’s okay,” Xie Lian replies, a reflex. He’s uttered that so many times over his life and it’s always lying at the tip of his tongue.
A pause. Hua Cheng nods once and stiffly turns to leave. Xie Lian almost lets him, but some quiet thing hums in the back of his mind.
Softly, he says, “It… it reminds me of a ghost I once traveled with a long, long time ago.”
Hua Cheng says nothing, seeming content to stare at the carpet. So Xie Lian keeps talking.
“Well, maybe not so silly… No, this ghost was earnest and sincere. A certain sadness about it. I used the last of my coin to free it from a jar and it just followed me around after that.”
“And what became of it?” Hua Cheng breathes, no different than the notes of an ocean’s wind.
Xie Lian balls his shaking hands into the sleeves of his robes. They weren’t his; Hua Cheng had given him something to sleep in and the delicate fabric feels like it’s slipping off his skin.
“I’m not sure… but it, too, said that it had a beloved. Someone it was waiting for and… I hope it found that person.”
If you were to say that the world is balanced on a sword’s edge, at that moment, Xie Lian would have believed it to be true. He meets Hua Cheng’s eyes then, sees something shift and break in them, a wave crashing to shore.
He bows his head and says only a single word. “Dianxia.”
And in that one word is the weight of centuries past and futures untold. Ancient and evergreen all at once.
Xie Lian feels his knees sway under him, but he remains rooted upright.
“...me? But why…?”
Hua Cheng thinly smiles. “Didn’t you say it yourself? If we get along, then we will meet again. If we do not, then we won’t. I guess we get along pretty well.”
Xie Lian’s head spins and spins, a wheel set loose down a hill. One piece after another snaps into place and he begins to realize just how vast this puzzle is.
This time, he really does need to sit down and he feels Hua Cheng’s hand on his lower back, guiding him toward the edge of the bed. It’s either a second or eternity that passes before Xie Lian finally finds his voice, weak as it is.
“Then that means… but that was so long ago… how much could San Lang really have in common with the scrap god now?”
Hua Cheng makes no move to sit down beside him. Standing like his bones are made of glass, he says, “Do commonalities matter much? It is you that I like, not your station or what you do.”
The moon shines through the clouds and Xie Lian has trouble deciphering if this is really just a dream. He so badly wants for that to be the case, let this whole night be forgotten come the first light of day.
Instead and despite himself, he says, “San Lang, I’d like to ask you something personal… and I pray that you will tell me the truth.”
Closing his eyes, Hua Cheng replies, “Of course. Please ask your question, Dianxia.”
His twitching fingers are the only thing that betray him. Xie Lian knows that he isn’t much better off.
“...was it you? Were you the child I caught during the festival?”
A pin could drop or the heavens could implode. Neither would matter because nothing matters but this.
“Yes,” Hua Cheng finally says.
Over the roaring in his ears, the pounding in his chest, Xie Lian asks, “And you… were also the little soldier boy?”
“...yes,” he says again, much quieter.
At once, tears prick Xie Lian’s eyes. He puffs out a laugh, runs a tired hand through his hair. “I understand, San Lang. I understand why you follow me around.”
“Do you?”
“You still think me that golden god, that infallible Prince. I am not him. He fell with my kingdom.”
In one motion, Hua Cheng kneels in front of him, a single breath away. “That person sits before me now.”
Xie Lian sadly shakes his head. “That person never existed. Or if he did, he was only a prelude to the laughingstock, the trash I am now.”
Suddenly, Hua Cheng tightly clasps Xie Lian’s hands and he speaks with a fervor reserved for only the most unwavering souls. “Does Your Highness forget so easily? It is you that matters, not the state of you. That is what you said to me when I was stuck in the form of a child. It’s still you. Why– why do you think the same words don’t apply to you?”
At that, Xie Lian simply has no answer. “Well, I’m saying now that you should… you should let me go. Let me be a memory. Please… don’t put all your faith or hope into me. I’m not strong enough to bear it and I don’t want to hurt you. I– I don’t want to hurt anyone ever again.”
The tears that had been threatening to spill finally do and Xie Lian can only sit there, looking as foolish as he feels. His body that should have so many trailing scars like cracks in cement may remain unblemished, but he will never forget. He cannot forget, lest he truly jump over the edge of insanity.
He never should have opened that damned window.
Hua Cheng’s eyes travel over his face as he gently wipes his cheek with a cool finger. He whispers, “You could never hurt me, gege. I only wish to be the bridge you cross, the sword you use. For I will always be your most–”
“San Lang,” says Xie Lian, sharper than he meant. “Let’s… let’s just sleep now, okay? It will be better in the morning, I think.”
He turns away then. A childish reaction by all rights, but what else is he to do?
“Can I show you something?” Hua Cheng asks, his voice softer than a petal on a lake’s surface.
Xie Lian does not answer.
“Gege, please.”
“...okay.”
Rising to his feet, Hua Cheng extends a hand and as he has done so many times before, Xie Lian takes it.