Work Text:
Feng Xin had always known Xie Lian’s sense of self-preservation was as good as nothing. His highness had this detrimental habit of downplaying or worse, hiding his emotional pain and physically injuries both from others and himself. Even before his first ascension, he had tended to push himself to the brink of exhaustion in pursuit of excellence in martial training and spiritual cultivation. Feng Xin remembered the countless times when his highness was found wearing his body to the bone, the meal, bath and rest long forgotten.
Feng Xin admired that indomitable resolve of Xie Lian’s, only it was equal part worrisome. It also meant it had been up to him and Mu Qing as his attendants to look after his well-being when the crown prince wouldn’t care to. Over the years, Feng Xin had learnt to pick up signs of his highness’s oncoming ailment and to urge him to rest before it had the chance to manifest into some full-blown illness. Not that Xie Lian had a weak constitution—on the contrary, his highness was the strongest among the three of them—but his lack of self-care and tendency to overstrain meant a flu or cold was bound to knock him down every once in a while.
Even after eight hundred years, that instinct was still ingrained in Feng Xin’s mind, always telling him to look out for his friend and protect him from harm like in the old days. Feng Xin had to keep reminding himself it was now someone else’s responsibility to do so, as Xie Lian was married to Crimson Rain who was consummately more protective of his highness than both Feng Xin and Mu Qing combined.
Maybe that was why this time Feng Xin failed to catch the signs sooner. The old Feng Xin during the Xianle era would have cajoled his highness to bed the moment any indications of unwellness surfaced. But now, by the time he was aware of those Xie Lian was already staggering in his feet, face pale and covered with a sheen of sweat. Mu Qing was the one who caught him before he dropped to the ground in the center of the Great Martial Hall.
“Your highness!?” Feng Xin rushed to his side, slipping an arm under his shoulder the way Mu Qing was doing to support Xie Lian’s shaky body. Amid the shocked gasps and shouts ringing around the hall at the collapse of their new emperor, the two ex-attendants carried Xie Lian to Feng Xin’s palace as it was the nearest, leaving the panicking crowd behind. Gently they lowered their friend onto the bed, and it was only then Feng Xin got a closer look at him. Face ashen and scrunched up in distress, Xie Lian’s face reminded Feng Xin of one of those few times when the former crown prince had overworked himself into exhaustion and fallen ill.
An exasperated sigh sounded beside him. “Does he never learn to take care of himself?” It seemed like Mu Qing had come to the same conclusion.
Feng Xin grumbled, “At least it wasn’t caused by a curse or something equally malicious.” To which Mu Qing only rolled his eyes in response.
Still, it was after both Ling Wen and the heavenly physician had taken a look at the stricken god, confirming their theory that the collapse was caused merely by exhaustion, that the tight knot in Feng Xin’s stomach finally began to loosen up. Truthfully, Feng Xin should have seen this coming. Even more so than the Ling Wen Palace, scrolls and paper had been flooding Xie Lian’s Palace ever since he reluctantly took the role of the stand-in Heavenly Emperor shortly after Hua Cheng’s return. It didn’t help how many of the gods like coming to his highness for advice on the most trivial matters. Never one to decline requests and voice complaints if it meant helping others, Xie Lian was apparently overwhelmed and under a lot of pressure.
They would have to reevaluate the workload allocation and found ways to share his highness’s burden before he decided he’d had enough and quit. Or worse, his cantankerous husband setting the heaven on fire for torturing his beloved.
Speaking of Crimson Rain, Feng Xin figured they really should inform the man of Xie Lian’s current status, but the only one who knew his communication array password was still lying unconscious in front of them. Sending someone to the ghost city was out of question as well since no one would want to be subjected to the ghost king’s fury at hearing the bad news. It was probably better to wait for his highness to regain consciousness and contact Crimson Rain himself, it seemed.
To his relief, it didn’t take long before Xie Lian’s eyes fluttered open. “…Mu Qing? Feng Xin?” he asked blearily as he sat up on the bed. “Why am I…?”
“You passed out. In the middle of a meeting in front of everyone.” Mu Qing’s tone was indifferent, even though the hand placed gently on his highness’s back suggested otherwise.
“Oh…I did?”
Feng Xin nodded. “The physician said it was due to overwork. Are you feeling better now, your highness?”
“Ah…yes, I think so. Sorry for the scare.”
“I wasn’t worried at all,” Mu Qing sneered. “It’s just that you caused quite a commotion. Some of the young gods thought you were dying.” Classic Mu Qing, always trying to hide his softer side behind sarcasm.
“Yeah right, I remember how your face was more ashen than his highness’s.”
“As--as if you were any better!”
Feng Xin was about to retort that he had no issue admitting his care for his highness, only to stop himself when he saw Xie Lian massaging his temples with a grimace at their rising argument.
“Sorry, your highness,” Feng Xin lowered his voice. “You may want to ask Crimson Rain to pick you up. Mu Qing and I will hold down the fort here.”
The smile Xie Lian gave him was tired but genuine. “Thank you, Feng Xin, Mu Qing, but there’s no need to bother San Lang with this while he’s busy. A little more rest then I can leave by myself.”
“Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” At Xie Lian’s questioning look, Feng Xin continued, “It’s not like we want Crimson Rain to come here, but I’m fairly certain he’ll murder us all if he finds out we’re keeping anything related to your well-being from him and let you leave on your own when you’re unwell.”
“What he said.” For once, Mu Qing backed him up.
With a soft sigh, Xie Lian gave in. “…Alright. I’ll call San Lang then.”
So Feng Xin watched as Xie Lian placed two fingers on his temple to initiate the communication array. “Hi San Lang, are you—no, no I’m fine, everything’s fine San Lang! It’s nothing bad so you don’t have to—But Feng Xin and Mu Qing are taking good care of me…” Feng Xin felt a swell of pride in his chest at the mention of his name. “Really, I mean it—no, San Lang…!” Xie Lian’s face went through a course of expression as he listened to the other side of the conversation, before finally settling into a fond smile. “Okay then, I’ll see you soon, San Lang.”
Almost as soon as the connection was cut, a swarm of silver butterflies appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the room, announcing the arrival of a frenzied looking ghost king. Hua Cheng rushed to Xie Lian before his feet touched the ground, plonking down on the bed beside his highness and started patting him down to check for injuries.
“Gege, gege are you alright? Tell me which of those minions did this to you and I’ll burn them right here, right now!”
“I’m really okay, San Lang. It’s no one’s fault but my own,” Xie Lian placated, running his hands up and down on the other’s arm as if Hua Cheng was the one under the weather. “It seemed like I’ve worn myself out and fainted. Feng Xin and Mu Qing carried me here to rest.”
“Oh gege…I’m sorry I wasn’t here to take care of you. What can this San Lang do to make gege feel better?” Stricken, Hua Cheng cradled his husband’s face and gently stroke his cheeks. Xie Lian leaned into the touch and smiled fondly.
“I’m already so much better now that San Lang is here.”
“Gege…” The ghost king finally relaxed and wrapped his arms around Xie Lian to tuck him close to his chest. Letting out a soft content sound, Xie Lian visibly melted into the embrace, letting his husband planting kisses on his temple and caressing his hair in the most delicate way.
Feng Xin watched from the side as the lovers exchanged quiet loving words, the existence of an audience long forgotten. Years ago the scene would have flustered and grossed out Feng Xin, the open display of affection was never something he could get used to and would stay away from as far as possible. But after reconciling with his highness last year and learning what he had been through during those decades in Feng Xin’s and Mu Qing’s absence, Feng Xin was just glad his highness had finally found someone who could bring him happiness again.
So he decided to leave them alone in their little bubble of bliss for a while longer.
Still, that didn’t stop the mock gagging sound from leaving the mouth of the one standing beside him.
“We’re still here, mind you,” Mu Qing said.
Xie Lian pulled back, flushed. “Oh, we, um—sorry!” Then he started laughing awkwardly.
Hua Cheng just eyed them with distaste. “Why are you still here?”
Now that was rude. Feng Xin couldn’t let it slide even if he was his highness’s ‘beloved’. “Hey, this is my palace! You’re the one barging in my private property!”
The glare Hua Cheng threw at him was borderline murderous, but Feng Xin was by no means intimidated. “You have the nerve to blame me when you minions are the ones burdening his highness and causing his distress. I guess I was wrong to have assumed you’ve grown from anything other than useless trash unworthy of his highness’s comradeship.”
“CRIMSON RAIN--!!”
“Guys, guys stop! Please don’t fight?” Xie Lian placated, his hand on Feng Xin’s chest the only thing stopping him from headbutting the ghost king. “Sorry Feng Xin, Mu Qing, we’ll get out of your hair now!” Xie Lian hurried to stand up, only to stagger and stumble back into Hua Cheng’s arm.
“Gege!”
“Ugh…”
“Xie Lian, for heaven’s sake!” Mu Qing cut in harshly. “Just lie back down before you kneel over again!”
“Watch your tone, trash!” “Don’t speak to his highness like that!”
They chided in unison, which somewhat lessened the tension in the room, even though Feng Xin, Mu Qing and Hua Cheng continued to glower at each other. Hua Cheng was the one to look away at last, diverting his attention back to Xie Lian who was still clinging to him. Ever so gently, he put his hands under Xie Lian’s arms and knees, scooping him up in one smooth motion into a bridal carry that Feng Xin was unfortunate to have witnessed too many times. His highness wasn’t embarrassed anymore, as he simply slumped into the protective arms and rested his head against the ghost king’s shoulder.
“His highness won’t be back for the next two weeks. If you dare disrupting his rest there will be consequences,” Hua Cheng warned as he began to walk towards the door.
“But San Lang, I can’t take such a long leave!” Xie Lian protested. “There are tons of matters waiting for me to handle--” which was silenced by a passionate kiss. When they parted, it was obvious Xie Lian had already lost his train of thoughts.
“Gege’s health is more important than anything.”
It physically pained Feng Xin to agree with the ghost king, but he did for the sake of Xie Lian. “Crimson Rain’s right, your highness. You should take some time off.” To his surprise, Mu Qing concurred with a solemn look.
“Just focus on getting back on your feet. We’ll handle things in your absence and talk to Ling Wen about how to offload you more in future.”
Xie Lian looked between the three of them, blinking, before his lips curled up in trust and gratitude. “Alright then. I guess I’ll see you guys in…two weeks?”
“Yes, your highness.” Then they were gone with a kaleidoscope of silver butterflies. Feng Xin allowed himself another moment to reminisce in the trust he just saw in his highness's eyes, before turning to Mu Qing, determined to live up to that sentiment.
“We got works to do.”