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The gentle fall of snow blanketed the mountainside in a soft frost. The crisp air was thin and kissed Xie Lian's exposed face. Layers of white robes far too thin to withstand the cold were stacked atop one another and covered in a much thicker gray makeshift coat. A scratchy woolen scarf coiled around the god's neck, keeping the slumbering Ruoye from the overzealous cold.
Winter in the village had come with an enthusiasm unmatched by the rest of nature. Skeletons of trees lined the path with flushed reds of falling maple leaves, long forgotten.
Puffs of frozen air left the man's mouth with each breath, and his nose was nipped red. A large bag lay over his shoulder, filled to the brim with numerous unnameable objects. Modest homes with chimneys ablaze stood out against the world draped in white. Few villagers dared remain outside, preferring the warmth of their homes. A man as brave as Xie Lian gave him a nod as he passed. The god returned his nod only to send a cascade of snow from his straw hat, much to the god's surprise. The villager chuckled, and Xie Lian could not help but grin too. He walked on, passing three homes until he came to a substantially larger house with a heavily thatched roof. He opened the gate to the home and shut the door behind him. An exposed path of stone led to the porch, and Xie Lian was mindful of his step so as not to slip. The contents of his bag rattled as he stepped onto the wooden porch, wood creaking beneath his feet. Before he could raise his hand to knock, the door opened to reveal a startled young woman. Upon seeing the god's face, hers immediately fell. "Daozhang," she greeted, crestfallen.
"Hello, ma'am. I brought you the item you requested last time," Xie Lian replied. From her somber expression, it was blatant that nothing had changed since last they spoke. Weeks had passed, and the dark circles under the woman's eyes had only worsened. When she raised her head to meet his gaze, tears immediately bloomed, and her lip trembled as she bit back a sob.
Frantically, Xie Lian cried, "Ah, ma'am! Please don't cry! I can come back another time if now is no good..."
The woman only broke further in response and rushed into his arms, making everything increasingly awkward. She wept openly as Xie Lian attempted to comfort her. He looked around, thankful everyone was insistent on remaining inside to avoid the weather.
"I'm so sorry!" she apologized, pulling away suddenly. Still sniffling, she motioned for Xie Lian to enter.
"Thank you, ma'am, " he replied. He removed his straw hat and entered the small doorway, careful not to knock into it with the oversized bag. The home was warm, and everything was exactly as it had been last time he visited. While neat, the home felt untouched, as if the space were only for display rather than livable. Without wishing to cause further harm, Xie Lian swiftly set down his bag and rustled about to find the item she had requested. Things clattered this way and that. He removed numerous pots without lids and other strange trinkets in search of one item. The woman watched Xie Lian struggle with the contents of his search, speechless. He bit his lip, feeling increasingly sheepish. His fingers, numb from the cold, fumbled through so many items it was a mystery how he had managed to fit so many in the bag at all. Strands of chestnut brown hair fell in his face with his efforts. The woman could not contain a laugh at the sight.
“Ah! I promise I have it, I... just can’t seem to remember where I placed it,” Xie Lian admitted with a sigh. With a swipe of his hand, he swept his hair back from his face and suddenly remembered something. He reached into his left sleeve and rummaged about before pulling out a small, worn yet beautiful wooden comb. He handed the comb to her and saw a bittersweet smile cross her lips.
“Thank you, Daozhang,” she spoke softly.
Xie Lian shook his head. “I should be thanking you. I could not have possibly mended my robe without your help,” he replied, recalling the massive hole in his robe from one of many accidents. Quickly, he began to pack away all of the many items once more as the woman examined the comb.
“He loves for me to comb his hair, so when I could not find his comb I didn’t know what to do...” Tears fell once more from her eyes, soaking into the wooden floors at her feet. Once more, she said, “Thank you.”
Xie Lian felt his own heart constrict. He stood and took hold of his bag of scraps. “No need to thank me. If you need anything, please feel free to stop by anytime,” he said gingerly. There was no reply as the woman only stared at the comb in her hands.
There was little he could do, and even less he could say. Sorrow had stolen the meaning of home from the house, and the shadows of melancholy had stolen her youth. There was a void where her beloved had left, and there was little a forgotten god could do to change that.
Xie Lian placed his straw hat atop his head and began to make for the door with his bag of scraps in tow when a whisper stopped him in his tracks.
“It’s been five months and three weeks...”
The days had added and multiplied, summer gave way to fall and surrendered to winter. Her husband was still missing.
"I have prayed day and night. Please tell me, Daozhang. Why have my prayers not been answered?"
Xie Lian bit his lip, unsure what to say. He could not bring himself to lie and say he had the answer. Yet her hope remained suspended on a thread, and anything could unravel it.
Their home was extravagant for one in the village, yet it threatened to fall to ruin. The business of her merchant husband had allowed them a level of comfort many could only dream of. Yet it was all but impossible to maintain such a lifestyle without him. Amid her hardship and the weight of financial constraints, all seemed hopeless.
Light from the fire drove shadows up and down the wooden walls. It crackled and popped, keeping time as the god struggled to answer.
"I...I will ask for any word of his whereabouts. But in the meantime, you must do well to take care of yourself.”
From his sleeve, he withdrew and offered a small handkerchief to dry her tears.
"You must take care, for when he returns he will feel as if he never left and nothing has changed. Please…continue to have faith."
The woman contemplated for a moment before nodding slowly and returning the handkerchief. "Thank you, Daozhang. You are right. Though things may seem bleak, I must keep myself well for his return. He would not wish to see me like this. He would certainly worry.”
Bidding her farewell, Xie Lian set off once more.
The snow had begun to fall with less fervor, and the sky was painted a faint pink. Snow crunched under his boots as he trudged through the ice back to Puqi shrine. His mind looped the interaction without rest. Feelings of guilt consumed him as he had no idea what had become of the woman's husband, yet he knew there was little chance of his return. The truth had caught in his throat, and he could not bring himself to utter it. There was only so much power in heaven and even less from one god. To interfere was a slippery slope that Xie Lian had fallen down many times before by meddling in human affairs.
The distinct shape of the shrine came into view as he made his way up the hill. With all the items sold, he returned with produce for dinner. While he was sure Hua Cheng would eat anything he cooked, no matter how inedible it seemed, he was unsure what to make.
Discarding his snow-drenched coat, he quickly began to prepare their meal. There was no telling when the ghost would walk through the door, so Xie Lian moved swiftly, dicing vegetables and tossing them into a pot.
The shrine filled quickly with toasty warmth from the stove's fire. It thawed his frozen fingers and cold flushed face. The wind whistled playfully outside, and he imagined a pair of mischievous arms encircling his waist while he cooked. The comforting presence of his beloved wrapped him in bliss. The sensation was so intimately familiar that Xie Lian grinned and chuckled, interweaving the present and imagination. Hua Cheng would listen carefully as he recounted the tale of his day. The ghost would hum in confirmation or ask a question or two. If Xie Lian asked about the infamous ghost king's day, the response was always the same: no matter how exciting and full of adventure, the event would be brushed off as "nothing much.” They would laugh with contagious smiles, never to subside through the night. Time would give in to their joy and cease to exist entirely as love filled the spaces instead of seconds.
Steam billowed from the pot of vegetables, filling the air with a burnt smell. Xie Lian's daydreams immediately shattered as he lifted the lid, sending an explosion of steam into the air. The contents had congealed into a strange coagulation of vegetables and liquid.
"This looks much better than last time!"
The god smiled to himself, proud of the progress he had made toward improving his cooking. He plated two servings and gathered utensils for them both. While they only owned two bowls, Xie Lian was sure to prepare Hua Cheng's serving in the bowl without any chips or cracks. Any items that remained on the multifunction table were removed, and Xie Lian set everything thoughtfully. He was all but thrilled to have Hua Cheng try his new and improved dish.
He bustled around a few minutes more, ensuring everything was as close to perfection as possible before taking a seat at the table.
His legs thanked him for resting by aching furiously. He looked across the table at the space and imagined Hua Cheng's dashing face looking back at him. He wondered what form he would take for dinner today. Would he be the red-clad and clever youth or the infamous and fearsome supreme? He became lost in memories and daydreams as he stared into that space. Time once again surrendered to the whims of Xie Lian's imagination while he waited.
And waited...
And waited...
And waited...
The warmth of their meal faded with that from the extinguished stove, but Xie Lian dared not touch his food. He insisted on waiting for Hua Cheng before digging in.
Hours slipped unnoticed, and Xie Lian found it increasingly difficult to stay awake as he sat. When it became impossible to keep his eyes open, he got up and removed the bowls, and returned the contents to the main pot.
Completely drained from his day's trek, he sat on their shared straw bed. His body groaned for rest. While the god could withstand many days without food, his stomach also accompanied the complaining. It had been a few days since he had last eaten a proper meal. Or perhaps a few months. Xie Lian’s eyes fell heavy as he pondered when was the last time he had had a proper meal. Blurry images of Hua Cheng danced amongst vivid dreams of maple leaves in a symphony of reds and warmth.
The god smiled to himself as he thought of his beloved and all the things he would tell him when he returned.
Surely he would be back tomorrow. He must have gotten tied up with something, wherever he was.
Surely tomorrow he would wake up to the sound of the front door creaking open, or the smell of fresh incense placed as an offering from his most devoted believer.
Surely tomorrow.
The memory of the village woman's tear-streaked face pillaged his more pleasant thoughts. The weight of her grief still weighed heavily on Xie Lian's heart. A grief he, too, shared.
It had been eight months, two weeks, and four
days since Hua Cheng had disappeared, sending millions of silver butterflies to ignite the sky in crystal fragments. Tears had fallen plentiful enough to drown an ocean on that day, but he had not cried since. Xie Lian had promised himself he would not cry, because Hua Cheng would be back.
The god's fingertips were once again flushed with the cold that crept in from the cracks of the thatched roof. He reached for the ring he wore around his neck and held it tightly. A hushed wave of comfort settled around him as he fell asleep with a hopeful smile.
Surely tomorrow.