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Thunder pounds overhead as rain patters against the roof. A small plop! can be heard every now and then as an errant raindrop sneaks through and into a bucket.
Xie Lian aches. Stormy weather seems to awaken every long-since-healed injury of his, resulting in a dull throb here and there. His chest most of all.
At least the sun was already up. If it were dark he may truly think he was in that coffin again.
He’ll be lucky to even get out of bed today.
Hua Cheng has gone to Ghost City for a few days to deal with what he calls “taking out the trash.” He told the god to not hesitate to reach out, but Xie Lian’s sense of self-worthlessness overpowered his desire to interrupt his husband.
It’s not until the afternoon that Hua Cheng’s voice comes through their communication array.
“Gege, sorry this one didn’t reach out sooner. There was more trash than was expected. How are you?”
Xie Lian frowned. What was he going to say?
“Gege?”
“Hi, San Lang…”
“Is something wrong?”
“It’s… nothing San Lang needs to worry about.”
“I’m coming home now.”
Xie Lian dispares at his inability to lie and squeezed his eyes shut. The ghost king would be here soon and see just what a miserable excuse for a god he truly was.
“Gege.”
Time moved differently on these days.
He forgot about that.
Hua Cheng laid down next to his god and stroked his hair. “Did something happen?”
Xie Lian shook his head.
Hua Cheng remained silent until Xie Lian felt like speaking.
“Everything aches…” Xie Lian whispered.
Hua Cheng understood at once. “Can this one do anything for you?”
Xie Lian told him no. It had been a long time since he had felt like this. To his knowledge, there was no solution to such a psychological issue.
“This one is sorry he can’t fix this for gege,” Hua Cheng frowned, looking truly upset.
“Tell me a story. Distract me,” Xie Lian sighed. “Anything.”
Hua Cheng did just that.
🐰❤️🦊
The god awoke with his throat constricted.
There was no shackle or white silk band around his neck but it was tight all the same.
Xie Lian loathed these days. They frustrated him to no end. Sometimes, it would just happen in the middle of the day and he couldn’t hardly speak a word without feeling like something was strangling him.
Once, Feng Xin had been speaking with him in the Heavenly Realm when it happened. Suddenly, Xie Lian had just choked up and couldn’t speak. His friend was convinced something had happened—a curse or the like. He had called for Mu Qing who fussed over him.
Xie Lian felt humiliated. Something like speaking should be easy. Why couldn’t he speak suddenly!?
What was wrong with him?
He couldn’t even seem to speak through the communication array. Mu Qing begrudgingly reached out to Hua Cheng who showed up at once despite Xie Lian’s attempts to convey he was fine .
The three began arguing in front of him. Hua Cheng insisted he needed to come home while Feng Xin insisted it must be some curse. Mu Qing halfway agreed stating they wouldn’t leave the former prince alone until they figured out the problem.
Xie Lian’s mind was muddled so much it took him until that point to think of grabbing parchment and ink to write down that he just needed a break.
An incense time alone to meditate followed by a quiet meal and tea with his closest friends finally allowed him to get over that bizarre sensation in his throat.
Hua Cheng suggested they both learn sign language in case it happened again.
“My San Lang is so knowledgeable.”
This helped immensely for those days when he was alone with his husband. Though he’d be frustrated initially, Hua Cheng didn’t make a big deal out of it and easily interpreted his hand movements. It would feel just like any other day with the ghost king.
Today, however, he was not pleased to notice the restricting sensation.
There was a pretty serious meeting to take place with several of the other officials. They’d expect Xie Lian to be there and weigh in with his opinions.
“Good morning, gege,” Hua Cheng yawned.
Husband. Good morning. Xie Lian signed.
“Is gege feeling alright?” Hua Cheng frowned.
Xie Lian pointed at himself before hovering his palm over his face and curling his fingers inward. I am mad.
“This one knows,” he pulled Xie Lian to his chest and stroked his back. “I’m sorry.”
Xie Lian sighed. It’s fine but I have an important meeting. Today, of all days!
“Would gege like this one to inform the heavenly trash he won’t be able to make it?” Hua Cheng offered.
Xie Lian sat still. Considering.
Show his face and be the laughingstock of the three realms once more or skip out on his duty? Quan Yizhen did it often enough…
Xie Lian dreaded the whispers that would occur but he was the new Heavenly Emperor (even if he refused the title).
I have a better idea, Xie Lian smirked.
~
“Ah good. His Highness is here,” Ling Wen announced. “Now we can begin-”
“Ugh!” Mu Qing interrupted. “Did you have to bring him?”
“These meetings are meant to be private!” Another god said.
“Ah, nevermind Your Highness. This trash doesn’t deserve your help after all,” Hua Cheng had placed a hand on Xie Lian’s shoulder to turn them both around.
Xie Lian had allowed Hua Cheng to dress him up a little today—looking more regal than usual. He gave off such an air of authority and intelligence, the other officials were hesitant for him to leave and practically begged him to stay and help.
“His Highness doesn’t feel like using his voice today but because he is so selfless he insisted on being here anyway. I am only here to translate,” Hua Cheng met the eye of any official who appeared to want to protest. “So yes , General Xuan Zhen. He did have to bring me.”
Can we just start please? Xie Lian signed and Hua Cheng translated. He took a seat and Hua Cheng stood next to him, being his voice for the day.
Not one person dared to comment or ask why.
Thank you. Xie Lian said to Hua Cheng when they returned home.
🌸❤️🍁
Xie Lian was back in that godforsaken temple, tied down on the altar with his own silk band.
This isn’t anything new. He finds himself here routinely in his nightmares—whether he recognizes he is dreaming or not.
Most nights, it plays out just as it did in his memory. Funny enough, this is the easiest version to recover from.
Other nights, White No-Face is torturing him in a new way. Sometimes, Xie Lian himself is afflicted with Human Face Disease. A few nightmares involved Bai Wuxiang assaulting and harassing him. But the worst ones were when he tortured Hua Cheng.
His husband had been right. There really is no greater suffering than watching your beloved in pain—and unable to help in any way.
This time, however, the white-clothed calamity forced him to get drunk—pouring a burning liquid down his throat as he laid there. He chokes and coughs but that doesn’t stop the liquor from being poured.
The next thing he knows, he’s in Xianle once again. Feng Xin is telling him it’s been a month and Xie Lian has no memory of the time passed. He looks down to find his hands are bloodied. When he looks up again, Feng Xin is gone, replaced by that half-smiling-half-frowning white mask. There’s not a speck of dirt on the ghost but all around them are dead bodies. Fangxin is suddenly in his own hand.
“You killed them all,” Bai Wuxiang laughs. “The crown prince murdered all the people of his own kingdom.”
Xie Lian’s arms are tied behind his back again and forced to his knees. A thin ghost with a ponytail and black robes approached—now wielding that cursed black blade.
Wu Ming.
“You were his last believer,” Bai Wuxiang said to Wu Ming. “And he let you die anyway. He does not care for you.”
The white calamity continued to say other similar things to Wu Ming, who had started trembling.
Wu Ming raised the sword with a distant look in his eye, as if he was not present.
“I’m sorry,” Xie Lian rasped. “Please, Wu Ming, please don’t! I should have treated you better! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
The sword was plunged into his chest anyway.
And again.
And again.
And again.
“I’M SORRY!” Xie Lian screamed.
Incoherent voices filled his ears and he shut his eyes, unable to stand the sight of his last follower turning against him.
“Look at me,” a voice said, a little louder than the others.
He opened his eyes again. Wu Ming was gone. Bai Wuxiang was gone, as well as the dead bodies and blood. A figure was looming over him, holding his wrists, speaking in a soothing voice.
Xie Lian thrashed for another moment before he realized his husband was the one above him.
“Breathe, gege,” Hua Cheng said. “You’re safe. I’m here.”
He repeated it over and over, releasing his wrists. Xie Lian realized in his sleep he had been clawing at his bare torso, red scratches threatening to break the skin all over his chest and stomach. No wonder Hua Cheng had seized his arms—he couldn’t allow Xie Lian to hurt himself.
“I’m sorry,” Xie Lian sobbed.
Hua Cheng pulled him close and rubbed circles on his back.
He apologized repeatedly to the ghost, guilt for all that his beloved had suffered on his behalf.
Xie Lian couldn’t tell whether minutes or hours had passed by the time he had finally calmed down. He was highly aware of how much of a mess he must be—tears and even a little snot had poured from his face, onto Hua Cheng’s sleeping robes. His hair was tangled and frizzy, sticking up in gravity-defying methods. His throat felt tight. Phantom-pains radiated out from his chest—his least favorite side-effect from nights like this.
“Does gege want to talk about it?” Hua Cheng asked.
Xie Lian typically did share the contents of his nightmares with his husband. He wanted to share, he wanted Hua Cheng’s comforting words, but if he knew who hurt him in his dream, he’d surely get upset.
The god’s throat closed up and his tongue felt useless. Another stupid side-effect from his nightmares and flashbacks.
He sat up and tried to force his voice anyway. “I-I…”
Xie Lian’s hand came over his neck, he tried to swallow the choking feeling away.
“Don’t force it,” Hua Cheng said softly, familiar with the symptom.
Xie Lian frowned and clenched his fists, upset with the way his own body turned against him so often.
“I know,” Hua Cheng read his mind. “It’s not fair.”
Xie Lian rested his forehead on the ghost’s shoulder. Hua Cheng smoothed his messy hair.
“Would you like a glass of water?” He asked.
Xie Lian nodded without lifting his head. Hua Cheng understood anyway. He pulled back to get up but Xie Lian moved with him.
“Mm… gege must want to come with me then?”
Xie Lian seemed to come to his senses and released his husband. He was then laid back onto the plush pillows and the red blankets pulled to his chin.
“I’ll be just a moment,” Hua Cheng kissed his forehead and left several silver butterflies to sit with Xie Lian. They lit up the room with a gentle glow. One crawled onto Xie Lian’s hand, stretching its wings out. The god would always be enamored with the beauty of these creatures.
It really was no time at all when Hua Cheng returned with a tray carrying water as well as some lychee. He handed the cup to him.
“Would gege like to be held?” Hua Cheng asked as he drank.
Xie Lian shakily handed the cup back to him, fearful he would spill it. He gave a simple nod and half-heartedly lifted his arms toward his husband.
Hua Cheng took off his robes leaving him in just his pants before he climbed into the bed next to his beloved. He then pulled Xie Lian to his chest. The god appreciated the coolness of his skin.
The ghost ran his hands through Xie Lian’s hair, carefully removing any tangles without tugging on his head. He tried to focus on the feeling of Hua Cheng’s skin and fingers in his hair but the throbbing in his abdomen was too much. He couldn’t hold back the whimper of pain.
Hua Cheng paused. “Did I hurt you?”
Xie Lian was about to shake his head no, but in his dream… it had been.
He lifted his face, opening his mouth to speak but again, his voice was gone and his tongue wouldn’t move.
Hua Cheng frowned. “This lowly one apologizes gege…”
Xie Lian sat up and began to use his hands to gesture his thoughts. San Lang would never hurt me.
“But this lowly one has,” Hua Cheng glanced away toward where E-Ming resided.
No. That’s different.
“Gege hasn’t answered my question then,” he whispered.
Xie Lian hesitated.
Hua Cheng waited.
In my dream. Someone wore your face. They had Fang Xin.
Xie Lian didn’t need to write anymore for Hua Cheng to understand.
“This worthless ghost—“
Xie Lian grabbed his face, cutting him off. He shook his head furiously. He wanted so desperately to speak but every time he opened his mouth his throat only contracted more.
While Hua Cheng was often tempted to berate himself for this sort of thing, he understood that it would not be conducive to helping his husband. He put those thoughts away at once.
Hua Cheng then peeled the god’s pale hands off. “Gege, you know it gets harder the more you try to force it.”
His husband was right, but it didn’t change how he felt. Xie Lian turned and punched a pillow with his fist.
Then he did it again.
And again.
Hua Cheng simply waited it out while the god exhausted himself—abusing the poor pillow until feathers littered the bed and floor. At some point he had started crying again. Everything hurt. His throat. His hands. His chest and abdomen. It wasn’t real! Why did it hurt so much!?
Xie Lian doubled over, clenching his sides.
Hua Cheng scrambled to hold him once more.
A hoarse voice trembled. “I’m sorry.”
“Gege has nothing to apologize for,” Hua Cheng stated.
“The pillow,” he whispered.
“Gege can burn down all of Paradise Manor if it’s what makes him feel better. The pillow is nothing.”
“You—!” Xie Lian gasped, looking up, and voice returning but trembling. “You should be angry! I don’t deserve your kindness! I’ve gotten you killed three times! You should be mad that I’ve hurt you—“
“Gege—“
“—That I’ve destroyed your things—”
“Dianxia—”
“—That I can’t even just be consistently happy now that you’re back. That I—“
“Xie Lian!” Hua Cheng raised his voice, cutting him off, finally.
It was rare for the ghost to use his name. So he was instantly stopped.
“I could never be mad at you,” Hua Cheng squeezed his shoulders. “You’ve done much more good than bad. For me and worthless idiots who don’t appreciate it. Your guilt is proof of your goodness. Not to mention none of it was truly your fault. You were pushed to those actions you regret. Just because you can’t see your goodness, doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist. You deserve good things.”
Xie Lian dropped his forehead onto Hua Cheng’s shoulder.
“I’m constantly waiting for everything to fall apart again,” Xie Lian confesses. “Every day feels too good to be true. I know I’m supposed to be happy now. I have everything I could want and more. Yet I still find myself struggling. I either can’t properly enjoy it because of my worries or I just completely ruin it myself. Like right now.”
“You’re allowed to have bad days, gege,” Hua Cheng pulls him closer. “You don’t have to be happy one-hundred percent of the time. I certainly don’t expect you to be. I want you to be happy—but it’s impossible to be so all of the time. What matters to me is that you’re safe to feel whatever you feel. That you laugh when you want, or cry when you want—not just do what you think is expected of you in the moment.”
Xie Lian melted into Hua Cheng.
“San Lang makes me feel very safe,” Xie Lian whispered.
“That’s all I want.”
The two remained there for a while, just basking in one another’s presence.
“Gege?”
“Hm?”
“You know this one could never choose to hurt you, right? Then or now.”
“I know, San Lang.”
Hua Cheng wore an expression telling him that he wasn’t so sure about that. Xie Lian continued.
“I’m no expert on dreams,” Xie Lian said, drawing circles with a finger on Hua Cheng’s back. “But I think it’s due to my belief I don’t deserve you rather than any fear.”
Hua Cheng gave a sound of assent, relaxing slightly. “Gege deserves the world.”
Xie Lian sat up and gave Hua Cheng a kiss. “This one only wants his San Lang.”