Chapter Text
It had been many years since anyone other than his San Lang had prayed to Xie Lian.
It was completely understandable, he didn’t blame the mortals. Who would willingly pray to the twice-banished god of misfortune? Even his kinder titles didn’t do him much justice. What good was a god of scrap collecting when gods such as Ming Guang and Qi Ying existed to be prayed to?
Xie Lian had become content in his life following the fall of Jun Wu; he had his San Lang and his little shrine in Puqi, and he was finally able to rest without fear of Bai Wuxian. Most of his days were spent tending to the (admittedly much more sturdy since Hua Cheng’s renovations) shrine, helping the villagers of Puqi who had been the first to accept him as their own, and spending time with Hua Cheng in Ghost City.
It was another cool fall day, and Xie Lian was raking the fallen leaves from the lawn around the shrine with a content smile. The colorful leaves never failed to remind him of the day he had met San Lang on the wagon during Zhongyuan. He was almost finished with all of his chores for the day, and starting to think about what he would make for dinner that evening. Hua Cheng was coming to stay with him in Puqi for a little while. It had been so long since he was last able to visit, the villagers had begun asking after him.
Just as he finished putting away his rake, a voice, barely a murmur, caused Xie Lian to pause in his steps.
“Taizi dianxia,” the voice, distinctly male, began.
“At least, I think that’s how I’m supposed to address you? I’m sorry dianxia, I mean no offense if I’m doing this wrong.”
Xie Lians brows furrowed and he made his way into the shrine, settling down on a bench that Hua Cheng had made for him with Guzi the last time the pair had babysat the little mortal for Lang Qianqiu.
“I don’t know how often you get prayed to, or if you can even hear me, but I really need help dianxia. I’ve tried praying to just about every other god but no one has responded. I don’t even care if I die, dianxia, I just want the people I’m protecting to be safe. I used to be a cultivator, but then a lot happened. You probably already know, you being a god and all.”
Xie Lian very much did not know.
“I saved everyone I could—the last of the Dafan Wen—from the labor camps that the Jin’s set up. They’re not safe here in the Burial Mounds, it’s only a matter of time before the sects come for us. I’m sure they’re already planning an attack since they think I’m raising an army of fierce corpses to overthrow them with the Wen’s. In their eyes, the evil Yiling laozu would never dream of helping innocents. They’ll kill all of us—all of them. Please dianxia. Lan Zhan already left and I don’t know who to turn to.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, Xie Lian brought a hand up to dry the tears that had begun to form at the corners of his eyes. He wasn’t quite sure of the situation, having been far removed for any major cultivation sects for centuries, but the desperation in the you man’s voice reminded him so much of himself eight hundred years ago. Terrified, desperate to save everyone.
“I don’t have anything I can offer you right now, but if you help them I’ll make sure that Qing-jie and a-Ning erect a beautiful shrine for you wherever they are able to settle. Dianxia, I will gladly offer my own life for your help. Please.”
Xie Lian jumped as a familiar hand was placed on his shoulder, a familiar presence at his back.
“Please help us, dianxia.”
“Gege, what happened?”
Hua Cheng’s eyes were full of worry as he quickly knelt between Xie Lian’s knees.
“Ah, San Lang. I’m sorry, I must have lost track of time. I haven’t even started dinner yet.”
“Nonsense, gege.” A calloused hand was brought up to his cheek, stroking gently. “What troubles dianxia?”
“I received a prayer.”
Hua Cheng’s face immediately morphed into one of rage. “What did that pathetic mortal have to say to upset dianxia so? This San Lang will handle them gege.”
“No, no, San Lang.” Xie Lian grasped the hand was was resting oh so gently against his cheek. “He did not upset me on purpose. He was asking for my help.”
The calamity raised a brow in response, clearly not fully convinced.
“Do you know of a Yiling laozu or the Burial Mounds? Or of any cultivation sects under the name Wen or Jin?”
Hua Cheng tilted his head in thought, his hand moving from Xie Lian’s check to his lap to tangle with the gods own.
“I have heard of the Yiling laozu, mortals say he is the founder of ‘Demonic Cultivation’ and a plague upon the realm. Some even were speculating that he was a disciple of mine,” he chuckled. “As for the Burial Mounds, they are to the West. They are a site of demonic energy, it wouldn’t be safe for mortals to be there for any extended period of time.”
Xie Lian’s brow creased once more. “The one who prayed to me, who I am assuming is the Yiling laozu himself, told me that he was protecting a group he called the Dafan Wen there.”
“Really?” Hua Cheng almost looked surprised. “Then I’d assume that he has developed wards to allow them to live there relatively harm-free.”
“He must be very powerful,” Xie Lian mused. “He was ready to die for them, San Lang. He told me he would give me his own life if I could protect them for the cultivators that they are afraid of. He reminded me of…”
Memories of Xian Le flooded Xie Lian’s mind, the months leading up to his banishment, the years on the run, his parents, the humiliation.
“Shh gege.” The ghost king surged forward to wrap Xie Lian in his embrace. Lifting the god, Hua Cheng repositioned them so that he was sitting on the bench and Xie Lian was in his lap.
Grasping onto his husbands robes, Xie Lian steadied himself.
“I want to help them.”
“Then I will go with you.”
“No San Lang,” the martial god pulled away ever so slightly to be able to look at his husbands face. “This is something I need to do alone, at least at first.”
Seeing his husbands disagreeing look, he added, “I will let you know if I need anything or if I am in danger, I promise. Please, San Lang.”
Bowing his head, Hua Cheng almost looked like a pouting child rather than a feared and respected ghost king.
“Gege will let me know as soon as something goes wrong,” he warned, pulling Xie Lian close once more. “And I will send one of my butterflies with you.”
Xie Lian smiled softly at his husbands protective nature. “Of course, San Lang.”
“I’m serious, gege,” he murmured, placing a kiss to Xie Lian’s head. “I don’t know much about them, but I know that the Wen sect were recently involved in a confrontation involving the other four of the five great clans of the West. Most of the clan was wiped out.”
“This old god will be careful, San Lang.”
Another kiss was place against his hair. “I know gege.”
Suddenly, Xie Lian was struck by an idea.
“San Lang, would Yin Yu possibly know anything more about these cultivation sects and the Yiling laozu? He belonged to a cultivation sect in the West before he ascended after all.”
“That is a wonderful idea gege, we can call him over later so that you may speak with him.”
“Oh, we can just invite him over for dinner! I’m sure we will have more than enough for him to join us.”
“But gege…” Hua Cheng pouted.
Xie Lian laughed. “He works very hard, San Lang, let me treat him to dinner tonight. You won’t have to share my cooking with him, Wang-yeye left an offering of noodles earlier, he can have it.”
“You are too good to him gege.”
“Nonsense, he works very hard for you. Come, San Lang.” Xie Lian carefully detangled himself from their embrace. “Help me prepare dinner?”
Smiling, Hua Cheng stood with him. “Of course gege. What will we be having tonight?”
“I gathered the ingredients for stew, if that pleases San Lang.”
“Stew sounds wonderful.”
The pair worked in silence for the better part of an hour, Hua Cheng cutting up vegetables and meat while Xie Lian prepared the broth. In the end, the stew ended up being semi-gelatinous, purple, and reeking of onions despite onion not even being an ingredient. Not wanting to ruin the noodles from Wang-yeye, Xie Lian tasked Hua Cheng with heating them up over the fire for Yin Yu.
Settling down at the table, Xie Lian reached out to the former heavenly official through the communication array.
“My Lord Yin Yu, would you be able to join San Lang and I in Puqi shrine?”
In seconds, a response came through.
“Of course, dianxia.”
There was a click of dice outside the shrine, followed by a knock on the door.
“Come in Yin Yu!” Xie Lian called out.
Hesitantly, the waning moon officer pushed the door opened, stepping into the—admittedly—small shrine. Removing his mask, he bowed before the couple.
“Dianxia, Hua Chengzhu.”
Xie Lian smiled, gesturing to the bowl of noodle across the table from Hua Cheng and himself. “Come! We made dinner.”
Yin Yu turned slightly green at this. “Dianxia, I couldn’t—“
“Don’t worry,” Xie Lian cut him off gently, swatting San Lang as he glared at the former martial god. “Your dinner was left as an offering by one of my friends in the village. San Lang and I are eating what I made.”
“He should be grateful for any food that comes from dianxia,” the calamity at his side grumbled as he pointedly gulped down a large spoonful of stew.
Yin Yu bowed again, sitting across the table from the married couple. “Many thanks, Dianxia. What can this servant do for you?”
“I have some questions about the cultivations sects of the West. You cultivated under a clan in the West when you were mortal, correct?”
He nodded, picking up his chopsticks. “I did, dianxia. I was part of the Meishan Yu cultivation clan, a minor sect under the five great clans. Though, we were allied with Yunmeng Jiang so we had some say in matters with them.” Yin Yu tentatively took a bite of his food, relaxing immediately upon tasting that it was not, in fact, Xie Lian’s cooking. “Dianxia, what do you know of cultivation sects?”
“Admittedly, not as much as I should. I stumbled upon many clans during my years wandering, but I never stayed for very long. The central plains never had any centralized sects outside of the royal court of Xian Le; most cultivated under a Guoshi or alone.”
The former martial god nodded. “Very well. In the West, there are five great clans, and many other smaller sects who are allied under the five great clans, such as my clan.”
“Who are the five great clans?”
Chewing thoughtfully, Yin Yu took a moment to gather his memories.
“Yunmeng Jiang was the clan I knew the best aside from my own. They are a very ambitious sect, their motto being ‘attempt the impossible.’ Then there is the Gusu Lan clan. They are known for being morally righteous and they have thousands of rules that their cultivators must follow. Most young cultivators of the West attend lessons under the Lan clan at some point in their lives. There is the Qinghe Nie clan, their founder was a butcher. Due to this, their cultivators cultivate with the dao rather than the jian, which makes them unique in the cultivation world. If what I have heard from mortals recently is correct, the Qishan Wen clan was recently destroyed by the other cultivation sects in the Sunshot Campaign after it’s leader, Wen Ruohan, threatened to destroy the rest of the cultivation world. Finally, there is the Lanling Jin clan. If I remember correctly, the current head cultivator, Jin Guangshan, is the chief cultivator of the West.”
Xie Lian’s brow furrowed. “Chief cultivator?”
“Yes, it was something the Jin clan proposed recently following the death of Wen Ruohan and the demise of the Qishan Wen clan. A way to keep all of the remaining clans united and to guide all the clans as one.”
“Sounds more like a way to have total control over everyone,” Hua Cheng snorted, leaning his head on his husbands shoulder. Xie Lian silently agreed.
“Jin Guangshan died before he could officially be appointed chief cultivator, and his son, Jin Guangyao was appointed in his place.”
“What did Wen Ruohan do to try to destroy the other clans?”
“He ordered the burning of the Cloud Recesses, the home of the Lan clan, and the massacre of Lotus Pier, the home of the Jiang clan.”
Xie Lian tensed slightly. How had the heavens sat idly and done nothing?
Hua Cheng’s hand rubbing up and down his spine helped him clam down just enough to think about the information that he had just been given.
“Do you know anything about the Dafan Wen?” he asked, putting aside his now empty bowl of stew.
“I’m afraid I don’t know much about the Dafan Wen, dianxia. They are a cultivation branch under the Qishan Wen who cultivated on Dafan Mountain. I believe they were also wiped out following the defeat of Wen Ruohan.”
Xie Lian sat in thought, processing everything he had learned.
“Yin Yu,” Hua Cheng spoke up. “What do you know about the Yiling laozu and the Burial Mounds?
Placing his chopsticks in his empty bowl, Yin Yu’s brow furrowed. “The Yiling laozu? They say that he is a demonic cultivator who seeks to carry out the destruction of the clans of the West. Some even speculate that he was taught demonic cultivation by you, Hua Chengzhu. As for the Burial Mounds, I believe they are an area of pure concentrated demonic energy just outside of Yiling. It was sealed off by a clan leader many years ago because it was infested with fierce corpses and spirits.”
Xie Lian hummed in thought, reach over to gather their dirty dishes.
“Thank you for your help Yin Yu.”
The waning moon officer bowed his head. “Of course, dianxia. Allow me to clean the dishes.”
“Oh, no, you don’t need to—“
“Let him, gege,” Hua Cheng interrupted. “It’s the least he can do for not wanting to eat your wonderful cooking.”
“San Lang,” Xie Lian laughed. “You know my cooking is a hazard to anyone other than you. It doesn’t hurt my feelings.”
Regardless, it was already too late. Yin Yu was at the basin using the water that Xie Lian had collected from the well earlier to wash their dishes from dinner.
“Oh, thank you, Yin Yu.”
“Don’t thank him dianxia.” Hua Cheng pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“San Lang, be nice to him!”
The couple was interrupted by a throat being cleared in front of them. Yin Yu stood before them, mask back in place.
“Thank you for having me, dianxia,” he said, bowing.
“Of course Yin Yu! You are welcome here whenever you want, you know this.”
Yin Yu’s eyes darted to Hua Cheng for barely a moment before settling back on Xie Lian.
“Of course, dianxia. I will take my leave.”
Waving as he walked through the distance-shortening array, Xie Lian leaned back into his husbands embrace.
The pair sat at the table in a comfortable silence for a long while, just enjoying each others company.
Shifting to face Hua Cheng, Xie Lian sighed. “I’m sorry, San Lang. I told you that we would spend the week together, but I must leave tomorrow.”
“It’s alright, gege,” he assured, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Xie Lian’s ear. “You must go save the common people.”
“San Lang!” he exclaimed, face darkening with blush. “Don’t tease!”
“I would never tease my gege.”
Lifting the god into his arms, he proceeded to smother Xie Lian’s face in kisses.
“Ahh, San Lang! Put me down!”
“What was that, gege? Keep kissing you?”
Xie Lian shrieked with laughter, wriggling in the ghost kings hold. He settled once he felt Hua Cheng sit on their bed in the back room, turning to pinch his nose.
“That was uncalled for,” Xie Lian scolded with laughter in his eyes.
“You loved it.”
“Hmm, no, but I love you.”
If he had any blood in his body, Xie Lian was sure that Hua Cheng would be blushing.
“Gege!” he cried, burying his face in his husbands chest.
Then, quieter, “I love you too.”
Xie Lian pressed a kiss to the top of his husbands head, stroking his fingers through his hair.
“Come, San Lang. Let’s get to bed. I’ll have to leave early tomorrow.”
“But I’m so comfortable here gege.”
Xie Lian chuckled softly. “Come, up.”
Pulling his husband up from his chest, the god gently began removing his crimson outer robes, followed by his own. He gently laid them both down so that they were face to face and pulled the blanket up to cover their bodies.
“I love you, my San Lang.”
The ghost smiled, resting his forehead against his husbands.
“I love you, dianxia.”