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Chapter Text

In the beginning, there was nothing. No light, no sound, perhaps there was no world at all. 

The being in the coffin was without form; void. Desolate emptiness, darkness not just simply upon, it was. 

The being had long since drifted away into the far recesses of its own mind. What use was there in staying in that nothing world? Could it even be described as a world? As anything? No. All it was was a sea of pain and grief. An amalgamative mass of nothing but agony. 

As time bled the being’s conscious awareness of its suffering began to dissipate more and more. It did not have a body, nor a name, nor a past. The edges of itself adrift, sending awareness far far away, where it belonged. 

The being was the paragon of death, stagnant in the after life of its own making; unable to move on despite its desperation.

But after so long in that far away realm, entrenched in dark warmth, rest, and safety; The waters of the realm bloomed, and there was light. 

And For the first time in the being’s imprisonment, what it did have, was a friend. 

Alabaster scales that gleamed through the blanket of ink, soft tufts of fur that swayed with the ripples. A soothing melodic voice that lulled the paragon into it’s long bouts of slumber with its soothing rumbles of song. 

Ruoye, a kind and noble lóng that protected the fragile recesses, and kept the being company. 

After more indeterminate stretches of time, the being learned to not fear. It learned that light was just as good as warm oblivion, and that it could use and create the light to make a place to call it’s own. 

It molded the landscape into an ever shifting mountain valley decorated with brilliant maple and misty clouds. Water that fell from floating isles, grounds for training sword forms and martial arts, placed right next to meadows of brilliant flowers. These concepts were ingrained into the creator’s very soul. It was an after life of beauty and paradise. Who knew death could be so wonderful? 

The being even used the light to cultivate an image for itself. A hazy figure in white mourning robes, right over left, with long free hair and a featureless mask save for two entirely golden eyes. 

Though it was far from a true visage, the ghost’s selfhood shone through in the Heaven it created. 

The passage of time didn’t matter here. It could lay next to Ruoye in their favorite meadow of flowers for as long as they felt like. A couple hours, or perhaps eons, either way it didn’t matter. 

It was here he took in his first breath from the now completed realm. It was flawless, he could even smell the fragrant white flowers that swayed jubilantly all around him, and feel the vibrations of Ruoye’s rumbling purrs throughout his entire form. 

He was home. 

And finally at peace, fate had a cruel joke to play. 

The first chime was distant, heard through the thick fog that surrounded and guarded the recesses. 

The second chime seeped through the fog, causing tremors and cracks to form all throughout his Heaven. The isles fell, and the acidic smell of rot seeped through the fog. 

The third chime that played caused the realm to erupt, and tear it’s creator into shreds of complete and utter excruciation. 

And by the fourth, he became aware of the previous world. And his screams joined the cacophony of hell. 

He could feel. Oh gods he could feel. It was repulsive. Blasphemous, even, that he could feel. 

His existence was thrust into a conduit of pain. It wasn’t his body. It wasn’t even a body. This wasn’t his world, it was too bright, and much too loud. The blinding hot light felt like molten lava injected through the pores of his eyelids. The booming shrieks of the bells pounded at his eardrums, making his head throb and ache. 

Pores. Eyelids. Eardrums. These concepts were disgusting. It caused bile to rise in his throat. He wasn’t meant to have such defined and detailed parts. He was meant to be a concept, not a person. 

He could feel his bones and sinew and guts. He could feel how his skin shifted around his insides as he thrashed. He could feel his vocal cords snapping rapidly against themselves. He couldn’t escape, couldn’t do anything, all he could do was scream out. 

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. 

At the crux of the pain, he felt emotions too. Another once distant concept so cruelly reintroduced. It was somehow worse. The insurmountable loss, fury, fear. It all was too much. 

He prayed to die. He prayed to go back. He prayed for oblivion, for anything other than this. But what use was it praying to the same cruel universe that gave him the ability of escape, and then crushed it beneath its boot? Maybe this was his punishment. He didn’t know what he had done but whatever it was could it truly be deserving of this? How could anything deserve this?

Maybe Ruoye would hear his prayers. Maybe Ruoye would soar through the sky and scoop him up and away back to his resting place. Away from this volatile hell. Back to where the air didn’t hurt to breathe. Where he couldn’t feel the disgusting anatomy of a tangible body. Where existence wasn’t solely made up of pain. 

He barely registered the soft touch of silk coiling around his throat, nor did he remain awake to hear the whip-quick CRACK of his neck that rung out through the avenue of divine might  

The bells stopped. And there was silence. 

Two martial gods stood before the newly ascended god, closer than all the others that kept their superstitious distance. Even with the rusted mask in place, they somehow knew. 

Xie Lian’s body was skeletal and caked with blood and grime old and new. He smelled of death, a corpse ascended to Heaven. The sentient silk that had snapped his neck was still coiled around it, as though cradling the wound in place. 

“What the fuck.” Feng Xin whispered, feeling a mountain of swirling shock, disgust, and guilt. 

Mu Qing said nothing. 

Feng Xin closed the gap between himself and Xie Lian, he bent down and reached to pull the bandage off Xie Lian’s neck.

Before he could through, Mu Qing put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Don’t, you idiot. Didn’t you see what just happened?” Despite his words his usual mocking tone was nowhere to be found. It was deliberately devoid of any particular inflection. 

Feng Xin’s head whipped around and with glassy eyes he shouted “YEAH. IT FUCKING KILLED HIM. CLEARLY ITS GOT SOMETHING TO DO WITH WHY DIANXIA- Why- Why he..” His throat caught on a lump. Why he what? That he looked like a living corpse? That he had never for a moment stopped screaming until he died? Just what happened to him? Feng Xin decided it would be best to stop thinking lest he start crying for all to see. 

Mu Qing’s hand fisted into his robes. “It put him out of his misery. Now stop being a mess and get up. We’re taking him to your palace.”  His tone was curt, but not cruel. 

Mu Qing gestured a spell that lift Xie Lian into the air, and walked forward without looking back at Xie Lian once. Feng Xin trailed behind, neither of them saying a word as they walked somberly. Any onlookers were too shocked by the unexpected display of death to even gossip. 

“He ascended.. as the god of death?” 

Ling Wen nodded at Feng Xin. “While the specific circumstances of his ascension are unclear, it appears he was.. buried alive and ascended via the will of his mind alone. It’s not technically unheard of but it’s certainly not something that’s been documented since the earlier centuries of Heaven’s previous dynasty.” She spoke with a carefully disguised fascination, and mild unease. 

“Fucking hell.” Feng Xin turned to the now grime free and less skeletal, but still emaciated Xie Lian resting in bed. Feng Xin grimaced. “How come he..”

“Now that his body has temporarily passed, it’s slowly repairing itself. Due to the curse shackles, his body should return to the state it was when he first ascended. He should be adequately recovered within a month, give or take.” 

Feng Xin and Mu Qing exchanged disturbed glances, each thinking the same thing. A cycle of death and recovery, then, death again. Just how many times had Xie Lian died and came back? How long had he been buried? 

Mu Qing broke the silence. “Thank you for your assistance Ling Wen Zhenjun. And you-” He turned to Feng Xin. “I bathed him, so you’re on bedside duty. If you can’t figure it out call upon some medicine officials. I don’t want to hear from you about this unless he wakes up.” With that he made his brisk exit. 

Ling Wen gave a polite bow. “It would be beneficial to the situation for me to be informed when he wakes as well. He may need a less involved party to explain the details of his ascension.” She cleared her throat with a soft ahem. “And of course it would be imperative to record the details of his ascension and any other necessary information.” 

Ling Wen, the heaven’s ruthless scribe, ever voracious for her acquisition of information. 

Feng Xin let out a reluctant huff. “Yeah, fine. I’ll let you know when he’s ready.” 

That seemed to satisfy her and with one last bow, she made her way out the door.

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Chapter Text

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes, was nothing. He was trapped against a plush surface by a constricting weight. There was no light. No mountain valleys, or isles, or flowers. Not even Ruoye was there to placate him with its familiar cadences.

He sobbed. He could breathe. A novel concept, he almost couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to. Ghosts weren’t meant to breathe. 

He was imprisoned again, and something bad was coming. The pain had subsided but it’d return. It always returned. It may wax and wane but it was always there. His oldest companion. Death was the only means of his escape. 

Alone. Trapped. Damned. These were the constants of his soul here. In this realm, what type of being was he without them to define him? What ghost would he be without grief? 

He used the air around him to scream. He didn’t even know why, he instinctively knew it was better to exist unnoticed. 

He carried on for a brief moment until he was cut short as a soft brightness landed on a part of his face. Light. 

Light had landed on his nose. He had a nose. And on it was light. 

Light. Light. Light. His addled mind chanted like a vesper. Light. Light. Light. His lips—he had lips— traced the word with unpracticed movements. 

The light fluttered, twinkling with the sound of jiggling bells. It sent glowing specks that frittered down like snowfall. 

Snow. The thought filled him with a child like glee. He tried to repeat the word, but all that came out was an inelegant garble of sound. 

He reached up to it, maybe this was his chance to shape his world again. 

When he looked down at it, his heart soared. 

It was.. a butterfly. Incandescent and perfect. It was something that would fit perfectly in his meadow, maybe he had created it without realizing. Are you here to take me back? Are we going home? 

Home. Home. 

“DIANXIA!”

The ghost jolted as his surroundings filled with fire. The blinding sensation causing him to cry out. When he squinted his eyes to check on the butterfly and make sure it was safe, panic filled him as he found it was gone. He was about to beg for it to come back, but when he heard it’s lilting song tucked behind his.. ear, he relaxed. As long as he had a piece of home, he could find his way back. All he had to do was forge the path.

Slowly, he blinked away his tears and for the first time in… he took in the surroundings of the previous world. 

There were many things in the room. Bed. Closet. Window. human. And.. himself?  

He looked down at ‘his’ body, the corpse that kept him tied to this world. Those daunting details of his anatomy wrapped in a simple robe. White. Fabric laid left over right. That wasn’t right, he reveled in the fact that at least he had the ability to fix this. 

He tugged harshly at the cloth until it opened. He shuddered with the introduction of cold air on his corpse’s torso, then folded the robes the correct way. Right over left, the customary way of the dead. The familiarity gave him another thread of comfort. A sense of, yes this is right, this is how it’s supposed to be. 

There was a squawk that emanated from across the room. From the human.  

The ghost stared quizzically at the man in front of him. It had colors. Red, brown, black. The humans face was scrunched up with some kind of visible emotion. Faces show emotion, his mind supplied. Faces could communicate. He tried to communicate a greeting with his own, and couldn’t tell if it was successful or not. 

A thought crossed his mind that maybe he should be more cautious. Maybe he was taken from his home by this man? But he dismissed it, he should gather insight and use it to form judgements, being so quick to accuse would be rude. 

Ha! Manners! What an interesting idea. Moving faces and accepted terms of behavior, humans were turning out to be fascinating. 

Against his will, roiling bubbles leapt from his mouth. The sound reminded him of Ruoye’s sounds, and he grew sad. Just as quickly as they appeared, they were replaced with a different sensation. But the water that slipped from his eyes was patted dry with a soft cloth. He pulled his face away in confusion to look in the direction it came from. 

Noticing the ghost’s attention, the long ribbon of silk began to dance in playful loops and zigzags. 

A wave of feeling flowed through his arm from where the cloth was still halfway coiled. The wave had a shape. One that felt like, yes! I’m here! Friend! He knew then, that this cloth was somehow Ruoye.

It made his mouth pull up into a smile. Now with Ruoye, the butterfly, and the fixed robes, it felt like he was that much closer to finding his way home. He didn’t feel as doomed, nor as alone. He had two friends, and together they could all find their path back. He could be safe. And the pain wouldn’t return.

He repeated the mantra. He could be safe. He just had to get home. And the pain wouldn’t return. 

The ghost’s attention was yet again diverted when new sounds were introduced. He looked from Ruoye to two new humans that had entered the room. 

“Why is he up already? It’s only been two weeks.” The new man in dark blue robes emitted, gesturing in his direction. 

The noise had structure. They were words. Sentences. Just like light and snow, and all the other words the ghost had been learning anew. He tried to focus on understanding the speech. 

“Well, I did say the phrase ‘give or take’. It was a rough estimate. If this was a common occurrence for him, it’s likely his body learnt to heal even more rapidly.” The woman stated. Gender. Another peculiar phenomenon. 

The ghost caught a few meanings here and there, but the context was lost on him. He knew they were talking about him. They were doing so as if he wasn’t even there. Which if he couldn’t understand most of what was being said, he supposed that that was fair. But it still pulled his mouth downward. 

He shrugged it off with a distant amount of indignation and went back to watching Ruoye dance, it followed the rhythm of the twinkling bells from his hidden butterfly friend. What gender would a cloth have? What about a butterfly? Surely it would just be simpler for everything to be one category. But maybe it was a matter of expression? Identity. That word struck an uneasy feeling in his gut. Fear, longing? he wasn’t sure. 

“But that’s besides the point. Nan Yang, you mentioned that his behavior was strange?” 

The man hummed an affirmative. “I ran in here because he was screaming bloody murder. Then he redid his robes like.. that. Then when he saw me, he made some sort of face? Like he was constipated. Then he started laughing. Then he cried. Then when that snake thing wiped his face he started smiling again.” 

The man in blue let out a huff “Great, he’s still crazy.”

At that Xie Lian lifted his head up, recognizing the sentiment, and the meaning behind it. His butterfly even quieted it’s song, like it to wanted to hear every word. 

Words like that had been used to describe him many times in this world before. He had mastered the art of brushing them off, but coming from this person, it felt like being stabbed in an old wound. And it hurt. Hurting seemed to be the natural order of things in this world. 

He tried to envision letting the feeling go, it didn’t matter it didn’t matter. This wasn’t his world so it didn’t matter.

Behind his thoughts, he noticed something. A ball of familiar warmth. He  chased after, wading through the waters to sink into it. It felt natural, the way it pulled at him, stretching his attachment to his corpse. It felt like coming home. 

His mind grew fuzzy, and it was like whatever had happened to make him upset rolled off him like water off a duck’s back. Ducks. That made him smile. 

“Du-’ck.” The sound made him smile wider

The man scoffed, incredulous. “See what I mean?” The butterfly twitched. 

“Just how insensitive can you be asshole!? Obviously no one would be acting normal after being buried alive. Dianxia, ignore him, he doesn’t know how to not be a dick.” 

Buried. Alive. Not important. He died, of course he was buried. How could he have been alive? Even if he was, what matter is he was certainly dead now. 

Dianxia. That one held.. a lot. It wasn’t a name, but it was something one is called. Something he was called. But Dianxia was a title of status, and It clearly had been a long time since he was deserving of such a position. A Prince. Could that be a piece of his past identity? He could almost laugh to tears at the notion. Why was he being called this now? Did they know him? Did he know them? 

Identity. He could ask them for that. 

The ghost lifted his finger to gesture at the three people. “Id- id’n-ty” he tried a couple more times but it was clear none of them understood. There had to be a simpler way to ask. He was about to give up and turn back to his friends when Ruoye uncoiled further to draw the attention of everyone in the room. 

The two men looked as though they had just been stared down by an agitated horse that they needed to be cautious of. The woman looked intrigued. 

Ruoye payed the looks no mind and began to twist and turn suspended in the air. It finally stilled once it had formed a continuous path of lines and boxes. 

The larger man’s face lit up, then faltered as he spoke “Ah! you want to know.. who we are?” 

The sentence took a moment to process, then a wave washed over his arm just as it had earlier. This one had a shape too. It seemed to have the same shape as what the words spoken conveyed. He could feel the meaning, and it helped jog his memory of the language.

The ghost nodded his head, then looked fascinatedly at his cloth friend. Even in this unassuming form, Ruoye appeared to be just as clever as when it was a mighty lóng! 

Ruoye wiggled at him, effortlessly understanding and basking in the praise. 

“I am Feng Xin. Your former.. friend. My title is General Nan Yang” He pointed to the man in blue. “That’s Mu Qing. Xuanzhen. The asshole. Also your former friend.” The wave in his arm felt strained at that last word.  

“I am Ling Wen, a civil god. I keep records for Heaven.” The woman said simply. 

A God. “Heaven” He didn’t know what to make of that. 

All these names and identities.. he had to have had one at some point too didn’t he? Or maybe he was just always Wu Ming. 

No. That didn’t feel right. But did he want to know? Was it better to remain lost? What if having a name tied him down to this world, and he wouldn’t be able to leave?

“Dianxia— You do know where you are don’t you?” 

He shook his head. 

Feng Xin paused for a long moment. “..You do know who you are?” 

Mu Qing scoffed and crossed his arms “Of course he knows who he is you idiot, how could anyone forget!” 

No I don’t know. They stopped bickering as Ruoye zipped and changed shape. 

“…”

“You’re Xie Lian. The flower crowned martial prince, Taizi Dianxia. And you’ve ascended to Heaven as of two weeks ago.” Feng Xin said carefully. Concerned. 

“You’re the center of Heaven and Earth!” Mu Qing rolled his eyes. Sarcastic. 

The ghost, Xie Lian.. Xie Lian. Was that really his name? He didn’t feel tethered, but he felt heavy, like putting on the name weighed him down with all it carried. Just like words, names were important, even more so. They held meaning. Entire lives, relationships, emotions, pain. He didn’t want to remember his past life. 

But now that the name was there, he couldn’t escape it. It stuck to him like rot to cloth. Xie Lian. The laughing stock of the three realms. A coward that caused the fall his own kingdom. A failure. The god of misfortune, and now of death.

He didn’t want to be that. He was a spirit that liked flowers and sword training. He sat under maple trees and listened to Ruoye sing. He had passed from this world but now he was back in a life that was no longer his. With a name and identity that was both inescapably his own and not his at all. 

Ling Wen coughed. “Dianxia. We should discuss the circumstances of your ascension. In case you have forgotten, you ascended from a coffin as the god of death. You were quite distressed and injured. Any further details are unbeknownst to us and I would like to get everything you know on record.” Then as if an afterthought, she added, “of course we can answer any questions you may have as well.” 

“Ling Wen Zhenjun, with all due respect, are you serious?” Mu Qing asked. “He doesn’t even know his own name, let alone communicate properly, and you expect that he can satisfy your curiosity?” 

Even with Ruoye’s help, Xie Lian found it difficult to parse all the meanings and information behind the exchange. They swirled around his head and left him tired and wanting a nap. 

“Naturally, until Dianxia fully recovers, our records will remain rudimentary, however, it is important to begin as soon as possible.” 

Mu Qing muttered an “Unbelievable” under his breath and for once Feng Xin agreed with him. 

“Ling Wen, I understand it’s your job, but be courteous.” Feng Xin warned. 

She gave a wry smile. “Of course.” She turned back to Xie Lian. “Dianxia, what was the last thing you remember, before you ascended?” 

Remember. Before? 

My home. After life.  

There was a pause as Ruoye whipped up the characters. Then all three of them furrowed their brows.

“What do you mean by after life?” 

I’m dead. Rested there, with Ruoye. Then appeared here. He felt his face contort with distaste.

All three of them glanced down to the lapels of his robes. 

Ling Wen coughed. “You seem, upset about your ascension?”

Xie Lian laughed Of course upset. Intend No offense, here sucks. 

His forgotten butterfly fluttered, twinkling like it was letting out a chortle. 

Ling Wen’s expression grew complicated.“Dianxia, your point of ascension was from a coffin. It appears you were buried. Alive.” 

Not alive. I’m dead. 

Mu Qing threw his hands in the air “You’re still alive! Gods why are you being so stubborn?” 

“Gee I wonder why? Why do you think!?” Feng Xin retorted. 

“Alright, alright.” Ling Wen let out a harbored sigh while pinching the bridge of her nose. “Okay Dianxia, you were dead, and in an after life with your.. ribbon, then shortly after, you ascended?”  

Ruoye is a dragon. He corrected.

“…” 

“…”

“…”

Do you know, how I return?

“…I apologize Dianxia. But, you can’t go back. I’m not exactly sure how you were even there in the first place, but you being trapped in the coffin must have had something to do with.” 

“Maybe it’s not as simple as that? What if he was in some sort of dream?” Feng Xin asked.

Xie Lian felt a surge of panic. Then anger. 

No. It wasn’t true. He could go back. He just had to find out how. All he needed was information and his companions, and he would figure it out.

Lie. Want return, can return. Not dream. Ruoye knows. Friends, information, can return.  Ruoye whipped around expertly, diligent in shaping the slew of words. 

Mu Qing let out a dramatic sigh “Enough. Don’t you see that this is pointless? Both of you are just upsetting him.” He ignored Feng Xin’s grumbled ‘You’re one to talk.’ And continued. “We should just leave him alone until he regains his memories. Get him some food or something, who knows the last time he’s eaten anything. It should help with the loopiness at least.” 

Not stupid. 

He huffed. “Like I said, pointless.” 

Ling Wen reluctantly agreed to return to her questioning at a later date, and bowed in farewell as she made her exit. 

Feng Xin gave her a nod of farewell, then turned to Xie Lian. “Right then. Food. Is there anything in particular you’d like to eat?” 

Food was something that surprisingly, Xie Lian found himself remembering well. Images came of picking fresh fruits while sitting on the shoulders of someone much taller than him, and later, of pots of burnt rice turned sludge, but made with love. He knew eating wasn’t necessary for him, but the idea of it felt nostalgic. He had created food, back home. Some of the trees had hanging fruits. And many of them had a variety that felt special, many of them had..

Peach.

Mu Qing ‘tsk’ed “Peaches? You can’t just eat peaches. You need something of more substance. Feng Xin, have someone bring in plain congee too, it should be easy on his stomach.”

Peach. 

“Yes Dianxia you’ll get your peaches too.” He rolled his eyes.  

Xie Lian laughed and gave him a good natured smile. 

Mu Qing sighed. “You haven’t changed, have you?” The shape of it was complicated, but not without familiarity. 

A couple minutes passed. Xie Lian, and his two ‘former’ friends managed to have pleasant conversation, despite the occasional needed charades.

Shortly after the peaches and congee arrived, the voices in Feng Xin’s head told him that he was needed for something important. Or something like that. The term array was described to Xie Lian in the clunky abstract translation via his former lóng, turned magical ribbon. 

Feng Xin even taught him how to access the array after being lent spiritual power. It was far more effective for communication but he was told that the lent power was finite and it was best to save it. 

Mu Qing stood up from where he was seated on the bed. “I should probably get going too. I have things to handle. Dianxia, you won’t burn the place down if left alone right? Actually please do so, it’d be funny.” 

Feng Xin let out a squawk of indignation.

Though Mu Qing’s sentiment had the usual air of sarcasm, there was still a finer shape of care beneath it. Xie Lian understood what he was really asking. 

He nodded. Not alone. He smiled and gestured to Ruoye, who was suspended in its word acrobatics. Ever a loyal companion. 

“Don’t kill him again or anything.” He rolled his eyes, then turned and waved, making his exit. 

“Remember Dianxia, if you need anything you can contact me with the array.”

He nodded. As he was handed the bowl of peaches and congee by Feng Xin, he tried his hand at speaking for a third time.

“Thank. You.” The syllables were quite simple, essentially all he had to do was hiss with his teeth twice, and it sounded audibly legible! 

“Of course, Dianxia.” Feng Xin’s expression was complicated but his words washed over Xie Lian with a genuine warmth. 

As soon as the door closed behind him, Xie Lian slumped back against the plush surface of the bed. Conversation was exhausting. 

Not two minutes after the chit-chat brigade had left, he felt a scuffling by his ear. 

The butterfly from earlier flew out from its hiding place and into the air. Xie Lian offered his hand out as a perch, which the butterfly took eagerly. 

He smiled at it. You’re quite the shy thing, aren’t you? And cute. My beautiful little light. 

He was expecting for it to have no reaction, even if it could hear him, it was just a simple butterfly he had unconsciously created, right? But it seemed to hear him, and take kindly to being praised. Then again, Ruoye was the same. So maybe the possibility wasn’t so far out there. 

The butterfly flew from his hand and onto the edge of the bowl of congee, flapping it’s crystalline wings. 

With a sigh, Xie Lian sat up again. You’re right, I should probably try eating. It would be rude to turn it down. 

He gingerly picked up the spoon, and scooped a modest sized bite into his mouth. The porridge felt foreign on his tongue. It was somewhat unpleasant, the prospect of having the warm texture move about on his insides, but the sweetness of the peaches helped with the process. 

It tasted not unlike home, but there was something more distant to it. It tasted like a life lived and lost. Like family. It made him sad. 

Still, he took a few more bites for the sake of courtesy before gazing at the butterfly once again. He felt insatiably drawn to it, like inside him rested a honing beacon that couldn’t help but reach for his light, and hold it close.  

He offered his hand again, delighted to feel the pinpricks of it’s legs pitpattering on his skin. 

You need a name, my friend. 

To be without a name makes on Wu Ming. And that wouldn’t do, it was a sad and careless name. The thought of it made him ache with a mountain of never forgotten regret. Where did it come from? 

He thought for a moment, and put all his care into the thought. Until finally deciding on the name that suited his friend best. 

Xuedie. Every time you flap your wings, you make it snow! 

He had considered Guangdie but liked the delicate ring of Xue better than Guang. Xue was a word that felt like it could flutter away and glide on the wind, much like snow, and the butterfly itself.

To finalize it into existence, he was determined to speak it out loud. 

“Xu-ě. Di-é- Xuedie.” It was far from perfect, but Xie Lian was proud of himself. 

Xuedie appeared to be proud too, it hopped into the air like it was cheering him on!

Just as he began laughing, however, he heard booming footsteps landing close by. 

Before he could even perk his ear up to listen for the direction, the door to the room came bursting open, smashing against the wall with a deafening crack. 

“GUOSHI!”

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Chapter Text

There in front of Xie Lian, standing at the precipice of the door frame, was a young man. His face contorted with rage, and the title spoken was hissed out and bitter. He did not need Ruoye’s assistance to figure out how this man felt about him.  

What was worse, was that this man struck an instinctual reaction of Get away! Get away! Inside him. The old student’s face held too many memories. Too many past regrets. Too much. Too much. 

In that moment, Xie Lian became toppled by how it was all too much. 

The fire sensation of the room that burned his eyes, the sickening sensation of digesting food in his stomach, the constricting of his robes pressing in on him, making him all the more aware of the prison that was his corpse. 

He was here. He was here and he couldn’t escape it. He couldn’t run away from his own mind as countless flashes of memory clawed their way to the surface of his mind without mercy. A massacre. An unthinkable order. A heart coldly pierced by his own blade. 

With each flash, only more and more came. They branched out into an endless system of roots and connections. Xie Lian couldn’t make sense of it all. He felt small and consumed. 

Bile rose, causing him to wretch. The congee he had eaten surged from his stomach in a splatter of grey paste and pink chunks, all onto the blankets that still covered him. It reeked of acid, and shame filled him at such a pathetic display. 

The man, Lang Qianqiu, looked taken aback, but quickly recovered as he stalked forwards.

“GUOSHI. I killed you with my own hands, and buried you beneath the earth! And now you ascend to heaven? Your tenacity truly knows no bounds!”

Xie Lian scrambled backwards across the bed, landing on the floor below. He tried to stand, but it was no use. His good for nothing body felt sluggish and weak. All he could do was back against the wall and cling to his knees.  

Xuedie, evidentially, was not a fan of how the situation was developing. It quickly sprung into action, faster than Xie Lian would’ve ever expected. It zipped around Lang Qianqiu, leaving substantial wounds in its wake.

Lang Qianqiu stopped his approach and attempted to dodge the surprisingly vicious butterfly’s attacks. “Damn it!- What the hell!?” 

Xie Lian trembled. His entire being was screaming for him to run, but he couldn’t. He had no control. No means of escape.

Ruoye wound around his torso. The pressure comforted him. He hid his head behind his arms, trying to will his existence away. But he was quite literally pulled out of it, suddenly finding himself halfway upright, slumped over the opening of the window with Ruoye supporting his weight. He understood.

Ruoye coiled both ends of itself around the window shutter and pulled, helping Xie Lian clamber over the edge. Wanting to make sure Xuedie was following after him, he turned around looking back to the room. He was relived to find that his little savior was indeed fluttering after him.

He looked further back to see that Lang Qianqiu was too occupied to follow in pursuit, attempting to smother flames that had ignited on his robes, and in the process spreading it to the surrounding walls. His robes were shredded and seeped with blood, emanating from the countless gashes that covered him. Xie Lian felt terribly guilty. 

Xuedie at last caught up to Xie Lian and landed on his shoulder. With it, a sudden onslaught of searing energy poured into the entirety of his being. It flowed through the fibers of his muscles, stitching him fully together like an old cloth doll being lovingly repaired. He stood and marveled for a moment at the raw, thrumming power.

However, he had no time to thoroughly analyze the details of his predicament. As soon as the remnants of his shock wore off, the body he inhabited automatically kicked into gear and ran as fast as his newfound energy could carry him. Which, surprisingly, was quite fast.

He ran past unfamiliar, daunting palaces that reflected that horrendous sensation of heat, shooting pain into the center of his eyes. They were so big and endless that if he weren’t careful, he was sure they would swallow him whole. 

He zigzagged through the labyrinths of pathways, solely focused on getting as far away from the dizzying and overwhelming realm as possible.

Xuedie jingled with fervor and flew ahead of Xie Lian. He didn’t even question, only blindly followed, faithful that he was being led to safety. 

After countless more twists and turns and passing by whispering hordes of apparent Gods, they came up to an enormous wall with a tall red gate. Xuedie landed upon the solid gold ring knocker, twitching its antennae at Xie Lian.

He hastily shoved open the gate, expecting the weight of a mountain. But to his surprise, it effortlessly opened as if made of paper thin fine china.

The path that lay ahead was inky, dark and swirling. The curling dread he felt in his gut made him hesitate, and filled him with a hysterical urge to turn and hightail it in the opposite direction. 

Xuedie hovered in the dark, looking back at Xie Lian. It seemed to consider something, and in the blink of an eye, a cloud of countless silver butterflies erupted in the darkness, surrounding Xie Lian in their rapturous light. 

He looked at them with awe and wonder, uncertain how he could ever forget about such wonderful and perfect creations.

What else had he forgotten? If he could forget the good of his own world, had he forgotten the good of this one as well? But in the end it didn’t matter, did it? He didn’t belong here.

He ran through the gate, and was only moderately terrified as it closed behind him. But with the army of butterflies in tow, he knew no matter what, he would be safe. Yes that’s right. He thought. The dark was there first, then the light came. And as if created by that thought alone, a light had appeared at the end of the tunnel. He knew that was his destination.

He was going home. He was going home. Tears of joy slipped past him as he ran faster and faster, eager to leave the past far, far behind him again. He was going home. He was going home. He was going home.

Xie Lian practically leapt through the enlightened doorway.

In his excitement, his foot caught on an unseen obstacle, and he went descending towards the earth in front of him. He braced for impact, but even after several seconds, he never touched the ground. Instead, he collapsed onto a bed of his silvery friends. They were inexplicably comfortable, as though he were resting on a cloud. 

They lowered him softly to the ground, but did not move from beneath him, acting as a barrier between him and the grassy floor. 

He lied there, chest rabbiting up and down. His lungs stung, and another wave of dread washed over him. 

He could still feel all those cruel details of himself.

No. He protested internally.

No. No. No. No.

He shot upright, frantically swiveling his head rapidly to make out the landscape of his surroundings. 

No, no, no, no, it was all wrong, it was all still wrong. 

He sat in the middle of a maple forest canopy, next to a bubbling stream. Trees blanketed the expanse of the sky above, casting a pleasantly cool shade. A quaint trail sat just beyond the copse of maple trees. It was by no means unpleasant, but it was wrong. The trees didn’t feel like his, he didn’t feel like himself. Whoever that was now. 

Maybe, he bargained with himself. Maybe he just wound up in an area he wasn’t well acquainted to. It wouldn’t be the first occurrence of that happening, he thought as he looked to Xuedie for comfort.

Xie Lian’s attention wandered back to his surroundings. He needed confirmation. His eyes tracked along, from the naturally occurring archway of branches he had lept from, to the trail, until finally landing on the stream. Filled with desperation, he scrambled over to it, closing his eyes as he hovered over the bank. Taking in a deep breath he shouldn’t have needed, he opened his eyes to see his familiar featureless mask...

A contorted face of discomfort stared back at him. Two detailed eyes. A nose. Lips. Pores, eyelids. All the bullshit things he shouldn’t have.

His eyes swelled with tears. Pathetic. Pathetic. He violently swiped through the surface of the water, dismantling the incorrect image.

Stupid! Stupid! it was all so stupid!

He felt too much, and he hated it. Anger, sadness, desperation. He hated words, sounds, feelings. Hated this stupid world. Hated how all of it made him feel like a petulant child. A whining toddler who does nothing but cry and pout that it can’t have what it wants.

He pulled back from the water, pulling his knees to his chest again. “Home.” he said choppily in his broken voice. 

“Home. Home. Want. Stupid.” Xie Lian pleaded to no one. Fucks sake, he even sounded like a child. 

Xuedie—he knew it was Xuedie in particular—landed on his knee. Ruoye unspooled from Xie Lian’s wrist and wiggled up behind him, prodding at his face and wiping it dry for the nth time that awful day. 

He laughed self depreciatingly. I know. I’m a mess. I cry, then laugh, then cry again like a madman. Haha, of course I’m crazy. 

It was undeniable that they both wholeheartedly disagreed. Xuedie fluttered and jumped in a particular way, while Ruoye bobbed and weaved through the air like a charmed snake shaking its head no. 

He sighed, and laid back down, looking up above to the familiar red that both reminded him of home and reminded him that he wasn’t there. 

Adrenaline and inexplicable butterfly magic long gone, the exhausting weight of his corpse and mind pulled his bones further into the earth.

He imagined then what it would be like to swallowed up by the flora of the copse. It would happen slowly, but Xie Lian could be patient when he put his mind to it.

Vines would search for purchase, and coil around his limbs just as Ruoye was privy to. Spores would wander and make themselves at home under his skin. He would become a part of the forest then. A part of the beautiful cycle of life and death. It’s only natural for a corpse to fertilize the earth, sacrificing its last ties to the world to make way for new life. His eyes felt heavy. He closed them as he leaned into the fantasy.

“DIANXIA”

The timing was laughable. He didn’t respond. 

But of course that didn’t matter. Against his will, his mind spun with an onslaught of words and shouts that came from multiple voices. Dianxia, Guoshi, fire, butterfly, kidnapping, blood rain flower?  

He didn’t care about understanding any of it. He just wanted it all to stop. Was it too much to ask for a dead man to get some peace and quiet, damn it!?

Xie Lian rubbed the palms of his hands into his eyes and let out a frustrated, exhausted, fed up groan. 

The universe seemed to answer his unspoken prayers, and slowly, the voices fizzled away, replaced instead by a twinkling lullaby. Ah, so not the universe. A laugh escaped from him. Just like the first time he prayed, of course, it wasn’t the universe that answered.

He took his hands off his eyes and looked down to Xuedie, who was flapping its wings happily on his knee, content in helping to relieve any of Xie Lian’s stress.

Aiyah, my little shining soldier. 

Xie Lian picked up Xuedie, and turned on his side, cradling his precious butterfly in his hand. He looked at it in fascination, trying to decipher all its wonders and secrets. 

His eyelids once again grew heavy, and this time, he was not interrupted. One moment, he was gazing at that soft light, and the next, he was submerged into that blissful state of nothingness.

.

.

.

Chapter Text

In the peaceful recesses of the inky in-between, a voice from beyond called out, dragging the formless away from its preferable state of nothingness, and reintroducing him to the unfortunate reality of his situation and identity. 

Xie Lian stared up at the vibrant expanse of maple trees swaying above, blinking bleary eyes, adjusting to the uncomfortable light of midday. He wished to sink back into his bed of plants, where noise and light couldn't make his head throb.

“Gongzi? Are you alright?”

Xie Lian sighed in resignation, begrudgingly sitting up and turning his head to the direction of the disturbance. 

Just beyond the tree line, there was an older, unremarkable man. Xie Lian was relieved by the man’s normalcy. This person clearly wasn’t anyone from heaven, with their elaborate outfits and flashy jewelry.  

The man had called out from quite a respectable distance away, cautious in approach. He had a humble and friendly demeanor to him that eased Xie Lian’s waking discontent. Though this place wasn’t home, it wasn't unpleasant. And Xie Lian much preferred it to the exceedingly opulent and dizzyingly overwhelming “Heaven” he had somehow escaped from. And at the very least, he didn’t feel as though the world would swallow him whole at any moment, and that was something to be optimistic about.

The man stepped forward, thankfully lowering his voice to a less hollering volume with the reduced distance. “Sorry to wake you, Gongzi! I wanted to check that you were alright. If you need a ride into town, you’re welcome to hitch a ride on my cart!” 

Xie Lian stared at the man dumbly for a moment. Words were coming back to him, slowly, and it took him certainly longer than a normal person to respond, even with Ruoye passively acting as his magical translating bracelet. 

If the man minded the pause, he didn’t show it, and waited patiently for his response.

Xie Lian appreciated it, giving a nod when the words registered. Why not? Towns might have more information. It wouldn’t hurt to have a better grasp on where exactly he was.

He followed the man out of the copse and to the aforementioned cart. It was simple, but looked reliable, likely having seen years of use. Hitched to the front of it was a great big ox with long horns that stretched as wide as Xie Lian’s arms put together. 

He instinctively stop in his tracks, captivated by the animal. It was just so large! But despite that, it looked cute! Xie Lian had no recollection of ever meeting something quite like it, sure it was possible, but the animal was completely novel. Determined to introduce himself, Xie Lian turned to the man that was climbing up into the driver’s seat. 

“You can go ahead and climb on in back. It’s bumpier up front. Once we get into town, there should be someone willing to get you some proper robes and food.” He said, as if having said verbatim many times before. 

At Xie Lian’s gesturing, the man lifted his head. “Hmm? what’s that?” 

Xie Lian pointed at the ox. Then made an up and down motion with the flat of his hand.

“Ah, you want to pet ol’ Xiao Huang? Go right on ahead! She’s very docile. Best ox in all three realms!” He leaned over and gave her hind quarter a loving pat. 

Tentative, Xie Lian lifted his hand, placing it gently upon the ox’s frankly massive head. 

Xiao Huang was very kind indeed, if a bit shy. She quickly, however, warmed up to Xie Lian, affectionately leaning into his touch as he scratched behind her ears. He hoped Ruoye wouldn’t be too jealous. 

As she butted her head further into his hand, he could feel the weight of her massive horns pushing him back. Her neck had to be remarkably strong to hold up her head. And if she ever had the inclination for it, she could easily send Xie Lian flying. The thought filled him with an appreciation for both her strength and her dedication to practicing the calm spirit of Daoism. The thought made him chuckle lightly. 

“Many. Thanks. Daogu-Huang.” He said, being sure to pronounce every word correctly. It was met with a curious glance from the old man, and an appreciative moo from Xiao Huang. It lifted his cynical mood exponentially.

He smiled and studied her further, finding his heart flourishing at all her lovely details. She had beautiful amber colored eyes with rectangular pupils, and eyelashes that were simply stunning. Xie Lian lamented at not being able to tell her how wonderful she was in a way that would express it sufficiently. 

He gave Xiao Huang once last parting pet and walked to the back of the cart, steeling his heart as she lightly mooed in protest.

This is where he met an overly simple but daunting hurdle. The top of the cart went up almost to his waist, and he wasn’t feeling confident in his ability to climb his way up, still getting used to inhabiting his halfway recovered form. His bad mood from earlier resurfaced, but there was no going back now. 

Even with Ruoye’s assist, the effort was embarrassing. 

Feeling thankful that the man had his back turned, and there was no one else to witness—

A hand appeared in front of him. 

Xie Lian furrowed his brow, craning his neck up to meet the face of yet another a young man, older than the first. Oh for the love of- he groaned inwardly at how fate enjoyed playing cruel jokes on especially him. 

But upon further inspection of the man, he let out a small sigh of relief. From general body language and face, this one appeared to have no history, nor bad blood with him. 

The man’s handsome features were gentle and inviting, polite. Yet there was an air of playful charm about him that laid beneath. Hair half tied in an askew ponytail, eyes auburn bright, and body donned in robes red as maple. Xie Lian had to admit, the young man made quite the striking impression. 

He felt his rude expression dissipate, likely leaving a rather pathetic picture of a cranky-now-placated homeless teenager. He in fact had a home damn it!!

The man said nothing to acknowledge Xie Lian’s poor athleticism nor disposition, only kept his hand outstretched patiently for Xie Lian to take. Xie Lian looked back down at it, mildly hesitant. 

Tied to the ring finger was a vibrant red thread that caught his eye. And before he could realize, Xie Lian found himself automatically reaching towards it, skepticism be damned, hand pulled along by whatever instinctive force.

The man’s hand was sturdy, surprisingly strong for his unassuming nature. Xie Lian felt secure, like even if he were to fall, he would without a doubt not hit the ground. 

After situating himself on the cart, sat close to the helpful man in red, the hand in his had not pulled away. Instead, now no longer supporting Xie Lian’s weight, its grasp turned resting under his. Demanding neither to keep nor break the contact. Xie Lian found himself a bit obsessed with the grounding sensation it brought. 

He realized then that this was the first person he had touched since his death. Since as far as he could remember, really. He had forgotten what it felt like, how such a simple connection could make his heart light up.  

The contact was warm, and the hand itself soft. The center point of connection sent a singing thrill into Xie Lian. How the hand trembled slightly with unmistakable reality, and how it caused his soul to tremble with it. 

His head swam, disoriented by the onslaught of feeling. This hand held an entire other world of a person. One with a heart that beat, one that felt. A world that was alive. Xie Lian felt a crazed, gnawing urge to get closer, and feel more of that warmth and connection. He wanted to study and learn its intricacies. To consume and be consumed in entirety. 

Attentively, he traced the lines of the hand. Feeling underneath his own the branching connections of a life lived. One not lost, but flourishing. 

Life looked quite beautiful on others.

“How’s my fortune? Does it look promising?” The man in red asked, playful, but without a hint of mockery. His voice had a soothing quality. Soft as snow, and resonant with a rumbling cadence that reminded Xie Lian of Ruoye’s purrs. 

Lost in the sentiment of life and touch, Xie Lian had ironically, entirely forgotten about the person in which the hand was attached to.

He searched for a word, one that would be easy to say, and add to the conversation more than just a nod. Ruoye surely deserved a break, and learning to speak adeptly would make information gathering all the easier. 

“Fortunate.” He said simply. Perhaps lackluster and to the point, surely limiting his first genuine conversation, but he was speaking. And less choppily at that. A stark improvement from just.. Yesterday? Previously today? Time was a fickle concept, especially when sleep was involved. Point being, he was trying hard to focus on his optimism, okay??

Showing no awkwardness at the limited speech, the man tilted his head, smiling sweetly. “Well, I certainly am now that I have you for company.” He said, the sway of his hair complimenting the lilt of his voice. 

The words took a moment to register, but when they did, they made Xie Lian’s cheeks heat. What a strange reaction. His body had many for being dead. 

Xie Lian squeezed the man’s hand, and found it remarkably easy to smile back, “You, too.” Then added, “Sorry. Trouble, talk.” when he felt embarrassed by such curt responses.

The man waved his hand, brushing aside the apology. “It’s no trouble at all. Brevity is the wit of the soul, after all.” He said, sounding completely assured in his proclamation. 

Xie Lian abruptly laughed. He hadn’t a clue half of what the words meant, but the shape of it was amusing to him. Maybe he didn’t hate words all that much after all. At least, not when coming from this intriguing person. 

The way he talked was easy to follow but didn’t feel dumbed down. This was the type of person to say what they mean, and mean what they say, not standing atop a pedestal of flashy and overcomplicated monologues. 

And despite the man not being a cute and pretty cow, Xie Lian felt his good mood coming back full force, even more than before. The man was cute and pretty in his own right after all.

Eager to continue the interaction, Xie Lian searched the archive of his mind for acceptable conversational etiquette. One of the first things when becoming acquainted with someone was to exchange names, which, luckily for him, was easy to do. 

Though he found his own name aversive, he didn’t know any other to provide. So he pointed at himself and said, “Xie Lian.” Then pointed at the man and asked, “Name?” And hoped it didn’t sound too demanding.

His new companion shrugged casually. “I’m third in my family, so you can call me San Lang.”

Xie Lian was glad it was an easy name to pronounce, and quite a pleasant one too. Cute. “San Lang..” He tested, then smiled wide, realizing. “Coincidence!”

San Lang, looking intrigued, raising a curious brow. “Oh?” 

“San Lang. My. Third Friend!” 

Suddenly, San Lang’s smooth air ever-so-slightly faltered, as a rosy wash of color bloomed across his face. And though his actual expression didn’t change much, he fidgeted in place. 

Xie Lian hadn’t known humans could change colors! There must be a reason, and a reason behind that reason! He made note to find out. 

Realizing something again, Xie Lian mischievously grinned and pointed at San Lang’s face. “Hong.” The man sputtered with a surprising amount of shock. Xie Lian moved his finger to point at his robes. “Hong.” Then to the trees. “Hong.” Then giggled at his own joke.

San Lang looked to the side, complexion only intensifying. Really, he had gone from so suave and casual to bashful in a matter of such few words! Xie Lian felt another thrill at the sight of an affronted pout forming on San Lang’s lips. “Ah- Daozhang-Gege is unexpectedly cruel to this San Lang.” 

Xie Lian giggled. Oh no, he had to make up this cruel transgression to his poor new friend! ..Even if that same cruel side of him wanted to do the opposite, and find new ways to garner reactions. Maybe he should try tugging on the man’s pony tail next? He thought to himself, playfully lifting his free hand to toy with that soft hair. If he gave it some minuscule tugs, that was neither here nor there.  

Ah- there was that color again!

“Gege…” the man whined. Whined!! Hahaha.  

Xie Lian let up on his studies, pulling his hand back. “Make up. Make up. Sorry.” He laughed. “San Lang, meet, other friends?” Introducing others, another common practice. Xie Lian was checking off all the boxes! He would master polite etiquette in no time. 

San Lang put a hand to his heart. “This one accepts Gege’s apology, and would be honored to meet his other friends.” The shape was sincere. Xie Lian was astounded at the fact that not once was it anything else. 

Ruoye, excited to be the center of attention, left its usual place on Xie Lian’s wrist, swaying upright like it was waving to San Lang. “Ruoye, San Lang.” Xie Lian said, gesturing to the man. “San Lang, Ruoye.”

San Lang offered a small bow. “Honored to meet you, esteemed friend.” 

Ruoye bowed back, making Xie Lian giggle again. 

With that introduction complete, he looked around the vicinity, realizing with a start that Xuedie was nowhere to be found. Not perched on his shoulder or flying nearby. He swiveled his head, beginning to grow distressed. 

When he heard a twinkling song awaken on the side of his hair, he let out a relieved sigh. He reached up, letting it perch on his hand, before presenting it to San Lang. 

“Xuedie.” Or at least, it must’ve been Xuedie. It didn’t feel like a different butterfly, but it seemed just a touch.. simpleminded? It’s demeanor now much more that of a regular butterfly than the clever and sentient little soldier he had come to know. 

But before he could worry further, there was a thrumming sensation concentrated on the butterfly. Immediately after, Xuedie gave an enthusiastic jingle and landed on his nose. It seemed to still understand him, so it was likely now that the threat of Heaven was more or less past them, Xuedie could relax.

He looked past the wings in his center peripheral to see San Lang’s lips quirked upward in a gentle smile. It set his dead heart kicking with renewed fervor.

“I like, your face.” Xie Lian thought of saying. Ah no, the word was smile, wasn’t it? 

San Lang coughed but quickly recovered face, adapting since the last endeavor. Resting his head casually on his palm. “Oh? What does Gege like about it?” He grinned like the cat that got the cream, sharp canine peeking out in a way that made Xie Lian’s brow sweat. 

Xie Liam hardly even registered that he had said the thought out loud, but San Lang’s reaction made it apparent he accidentally had. 

Taking a second to consider, Xie Lian, admittedly, liked many things about San Lang’s face. 

The man had even prettier eyes than Xiao Huang, but you didn’t hear that from him. And much like Xiao Huang, the more Xie Lian looked at the other man’s face, the more he found himself besotted with the harmony of his details. 

Bright eyes, strong nose, curved lips. Eyelids, pores, it didn’t matter, Xie Lian could find a way to obsess over them all. The way the gentle angle of his jaw complimented his straight nose, how his eyelashes fell against his cheek, a butterfly’s kiss. San Lang was wholly and almost too perfect. Xie Lian thought he was most endearing when that picture perfect image slipped, red faced and so tangibly human. He would have to find more ways to bring it back. 

Xie Lian couldn't manage to coral all his thoughts into words, and it frustrated him endlessly. Begrudgingly, he settled for expressing how it made him feel, blurting out whatever words he thought suited San Lang. “Charming. Gentle. Snow. Warm.” Safe. He waved his hand in the air, searching for the summary he was looking for. After a moment, it hit him. “Handsome.” He said, lightly tracing the lines of San Lang’s palm once again as his gesturing hand returned. He found himself very pleased that during their whole interaction, their hands had not parted once.

San Lang looked at him for a moment like a stunned deer. Wide eyed and speechless. That entirely too cute falter of perfection making a comeback. 

When it smoothed out again, some fissures remained in place, and Xie Lian was confident there would be plenty of opportunities to breach the surface again. 

“Ah, warm snow? Gege, that’s an oxymoron.” 

Xie Lian held up a finger. “Metaphor.” He corrected. 

San Lang just laughed, defeated in one mere word. 

Like all his discoveries about the man, his laugh filled Xie Lian with a blossoming feeling, like a plant slowly sprouting from its case. He couldn’t help but bask in the warm glow, leaving him insatiable for more. More, before he could manage to lose it, he thought irrationally. 

His heart craved to learn; craved to know. San Lang was proving to be the first thing to fully distract his mind from all the overwhelming bullshit. He could feel, but it was pleasant. Inside him was a steady, fulfilling ache; nestling into his ribcage, and making itself at home. It was overwhelming, confusing, and recklessly hasty, but good.

It almost made him feel alive. And for the first time, he found himself not entirely minding being away from the place where he belonged. San Lang felt like someone he could belong beside. And that made him wonder if maybe they had met before. But how could Xie Lian ever have forgotten about someone like him?  

“Why, here?” What a shame, limited speech really put a damper on tone. He was honestly curious even if they hadn’t met before, but instead, he sounded suspicious. 

Gracefully, San Lang showed no offense. “What brings me here? Hm I suppose I tend to wander around whenever I’m bored. Pick up odd jobs here and there when they interest me. Perhaps Gege has something I could help him with?” 

Xie Lian lit up with excitement. There was something he needed help with! 

“Information.” He pointed at himself and said, “Lost, looking for home.”

San Lang’s eyebrows furrowed in sympathy and nodded. “I understand. I’m sorry you..” He paused, looking stricken. Xie Lian discovered that his heart couldn’t stand seeing the expression on his face. “I’m sorry.” He finally landed on, looking down at their joined hands, sounding far too apologetic. “I’d be more than happy to give you any information you need.” 

Confused to see San Lang so upset, Xie Lian softly adjusted his chin to be level again. “No sorry. Not fault.” San Lang’s sad expression unfortunately didn’t dissipate at the response. “Situation like so. Died, rested in after life, taken away, now here, ghost. Want return.” He gestured up to Xuedie who was now resting on his shoulder. “Light. I shaped, made after life. Key to return?” He let out a sigh after the taxing explanation. Talking about his unpleasant circumstances was much more tiring than laughing and teasing San Lang. 

San Lang looked at the butterfly strangely, then nodded, believing him. But his entire manor had turned odd since being introduced to Xie Lian's situation, despite his effort to hide it. 

“I’ve heard of the usage of spiritual power to shape realms before. Though it takes immense power and… dedication to create more than a simple room. The specific circumstances of how they work is also not something well known. We’d need to understand the full picture first, and use that to fuel our research.” 

“Sorry.” It was now Xie Lian’s turn to look down. “Disorient. Memory poor. Communication..” He made a hand gesture that hopefully portrayed his inadequacy. 

San Lang squeezed his hand. “No sorry. Not fault.” He quoted sincerely. Xie Lian thought it was unmistakably his fault, but the assured statement didn’t leave room for debate. 

Perceptively sensing Xie Lian’s line of thought, San Lang continued to comfort. “We can figure it out together, Gege. Communication, memory, understanding. Whatever you need, I’ll help. As for our research, it’s said that Ghost City is a hub of information, especially when it comes to situations such as this. If there’s anywhere we can go to learn more, it’s there.”  

The fact that this man Xie Lian met not even half a sichen ago would go to such lengths to help him was incredibly touching. San Lang was truly special. 

Really, the kindness Xie Lian had stumbled upon between him and the cart driver, and even Xiao Huang herself, was more precious than any shining riches the heavenly realm could ever offer. 

Snapping himself out of his sentimentality, he focused on the particular premise in San Lang’s words that piqued his interest. “City, for ghosts?”  

“En. Whether ghost, mortal, god, or otherwise, it’s where many go to conduct whatever business they have. If you name it, Ghost City likely has it. I even have a place there.”

Xie Lian couldn’t hide his shock as he pointed at the other man. “Ghost?” He asked. 

“En.” He confirmed, looking sheepish.

Xie Lian’s jaw dropped. San Lang looked entirely alive! 

Unable to believe it, he abruptly leaned towards San Lang, whose eyes were deer wide yet again. Unceremoniously, he plopped his head down, pressing his ear to the chest in front of him, which he noted had a pleasant amount of cushion. 

Just as Xie Lian expected! Not only was San Lang, as previously established, delightfully warm, but his heart pounded with remarkable enthusiasm! On top of that, San Lang had breath that hitched, and he even smelled good! And while he had stilled to the extent of the dead, all evidence pointed to him being undeniably alive. 

However, the thought of San Lang being a ghost, just like Xie Lian, was admittedly very appealing in its own way. And could very well be why existing around San Lang felt so effortless. 

Xie Lian, regrettably, pulled back from the soft expanse of the man’s chest, wishing he could stay cushioned for just a bit longer. “San Lang. Warm, heart beats, breathes, smell amazing! How ghost?” He questioned emphatically, grabbing San Lang’s face and checking him over further.

The man with crimson face matching robes looked at him dumbly. Xie Lian hadn’t even meant to inspire a new reaction, but he wasn’t complaining. 

This time, his air of smoothness did not return. “Only.. only powerful ghosts are able to have advanced forms that appear alive. Savage or above. I made this one to look alive and appealing so I wouldn’t frighten— Mortals. When I travel.” The way his cheeks squished against Xie Lian’s hands as he talked was incredibly comical.

Xie Lian nodded in intrigue. That was useful to know! Not only was it impressive that San Lang was so powerful, but could Xie Lian himself be powerful? His form did seem very advanced, and he could see why the gods would mistake him for being alive, in that case. He would have to collect evidence to confirm!

“San Lang.” He patted his chest. 

San Lang looked at him like he had grown a second head. “You- you want me to listen to your heart?” He croaked out. 

Xie Lian nodded his head, feeling completely assured at the necessity. “En.”

San Lang didn’t argue, only sat there with crimson cheeks coloring his cute, incredulous expression. Then, slowly, as if in a trance, leaned forward to press his head against Xie Lian’s chest. At first he barely hovered, but then gradually rested his entire weight, surreptitiously draping his arms around Xie Lian’s waist. The closeness and pressure could practically make Xie Lian weep as his hand instinctively came up to stroke San Lang’s hair. He had no ulterior motive in this scientific endeavor at all. 

Everything was quiet for a long moment, both of them forgetting the original intention of the embrace. It gave Xie Lian time to soak in the contact, and his being ached to never not be touching San Lang. 

San Lang breathed out a long, contented sigh. “It’s beating. Gege.” 

Xie Lian figured as much. Though it was still a surprise to get confirmation that he was powerful, he really felt the opposite. It was possible he was limited by a number of circumstances. His body being one of them, but there was also an instinctual weight that was resurfacing. Parts of himself had been locked away. His godhood, he recalled, and his luck as well. With unease, he remembered that long ago; he did something to deserve it completely, though he didn't know what.

He squeezed the man tight in his arms.

When they both reluctantly parted from the proximity, San Lang seemed almost sleepy. His eyes glazed over and focused entirely on Xie Lian. Out of all the reactions so far, this was the most adorable, and his favorite. He thought briefly of affectionally pinching his cheeks and watching them color. 

Mercifully, he decided instead to reconnect their hands. San Lang’s once again cradled in Xie Lian’s, where it ought to be. 

“How, ghosts powerful?” He asked, helping San Lang come back to earth. While Xie Lian now knew it wasn’t strange for him to get no power from his sealed godhood, he should at least have something to account for from his ghost-hood.

San Lang blinked a couple times, not dissimilar to a frog. “They… There’s two ways.” He cleared his throat, this time speaking with eyes less hazy. “First, and most commonly: Resentment. The more they have, the more powerful they become. Think of it the fuel to a ghost’s fire. To my knowledge, ghosts can’t exist without some amount of resentment.”

Xie Lian hummed, pensive. “Sad.” To be so linked to their suffering, it was truly an unfortunate fate. 

“It doesn’t have to be.” San Lang said softly. 

Xie Lian stared inquisitive, waiting for him to continue. 

San Lang looked down to their hands, moving his own underneath to instead cradle Xie Lian’s. Tenderly, he traced the lines of Xie Lian's hands, sending featherlight warmth into his very soul.

“Say that a ghost’s reason to stay is because someone they hold dear still exists in this world.” Delicate fingers brushed along the center, the life line, then the heart. “They may suffer and feel resentment towards the world, but ultimately their love for that person overrides any hardship. Centuries of suffering would be worth it just to see that person happy.”

Xie Lian furrowed his brows. Wouldn’t a ghost that solely exists for that person finally be free to pass on? To be separated for so long only to leave this world when finally happy with their beloved. Xie Lian didn’t know if he found that more bitter or sweet, or both. “Fulfilled.. Pass on?”

San Lang looked back up to Xie Lian’s eyes, earnest, and with an intense, fiery passion. “Not necessarily. If their only wish is to fulfill their purpose by making their beloved happy, unless that person wouldn’t want them to exist, it would be out of the question to leave.” His grip on Xie Lian’s hand was gently unyielding, as if trying to hold the entirety of Xie Lian together. 

“Simply being beside that person, protecting them, serving them, with them, anything, would be beyond the ghost’s wildest dreams. There would be no more suffering after that.” 

The blind devotion of the scenario took Xie Lian by suprise. But, when put that way, it did sound sweet and incredibly romantic. Unconditionally loyal. San Lang was highly sentimental, and without a doubt self sacrificial, to come up with the sentiment. 

San Lang bit his lip, looking away. “Which brings me to the second way ghosts can gain power.” He diverted back to the original topic, eyes returning to Xie Lian’s and pausing his explanation for dramatic effect. Xie Lian found it incredibly endearing. 

“Any potent emotion, but especially love, can fuel a ghost’s existence just as much as resentment. Ghosts can’t exist without a reason to stay in this world, and while love itself does not directly cause a direct increase in power, the tenacity it brings can be the means of gaining it.” 

Xie Lian was beginning to think that everything San Lang said held not only deeper meaning, but experience. 

San Lang gestured casually. “There is even a custom among ghosts involving love. When a ghost holds someone dear—their beloved—they will gift that person their ashes.”

“Ashes?” Xie Lian had never heard of such a gift. 

San Lang nodded. “A ghost’s ultimate weakness. Their physical tether to not just this world, but their entire existence. Destroy the ashes, and you destroy the ghost. Permanently. Even taking away the ability of reincarnation. Because of this, few dare to gift their ashes.” 

To show complete trust like that, the sentiment was wholly sincere and romantic! Though understandable why not many practiced. 

“You?” Xie Lian asked simply, ecstatic at how effortlessly San Lang picked up the meaning, eyes lighting up in that way of his.

“If it were me, of course I’d give my ashes to the one I loved. Regardless of whether they would cherish it, or use it as a simple plaything, it wouldn’t matter. So long as it made them happy.” 

Xie Lian laughed. San Lang was so arrogant and carefree, yet fully sincere, saying the words like any other attitude would be absurd. He really loved all sides to San Lang he was discovering. Though, quickly he grew concerned at the declaration of blind self sacrifice and low self regard. He realized then that maybe laughing was the entirely inappropriate reaction. The man just made it too easy to be happy! 

He took both of San Lang’s hands, squeezing them tight, and bore his gaze into those bright auburn eyes. “San Lang. Deserves. To be. Cherished.” He enunciated every group of words with a squeeze to San Lang’s hands. It was the only complete sentence he’d managed to string together all day, and he hoped it added to the impact. 

The man sucked in a breath, growing quiet as he averted his gaze back down to their entwined hands. Eyes glassy, and expression complicated, his voice was hoarse as he spoke. “I wouldn’t be so sure.” Uncharacteristic tension sculpted the words. And inside was a definite anger, though not directed at Xie Lian.

But before he could argue, San Lang’s gaze returned, softening. “However, this one is honored Gege thinks so.” 

Xie Lian thought it best to divert topics after that, kindly guiding them away from San Lang’s vulnerability, and to more neutral waters. “Most powerful ghost?” He asked, bringing up their original topic, a touch abrupt.  

Eager to take the divergence, and be of assistance, San Lang flashed a small smile. His ability to recover so quickly from his previous blip in mood remarkable. “Oh that’s easy. Crimson Rain Sought Flower, Hua Cheng.” He said, voice mirth once again.

Hua Cheng? What beautiful imagery! 

“Pretty!” 

San Lang laughed that beaming laugh of his. “Pretty name maybe, but not a pretty person. Hua Cheng emerged from Mount Tong’Lu’s trials as the most powerful calamity, a ghost king. For a ghost to accomplish that, they have to be truly ruthless. Disdainful of the world, and everything in it.” 

He leaned casually against a flake of hay, flicking a fly away piece. “Which reminds me.. Ghost City is quite an unseemly place, filled with criminals and all sorts of trash. Ruled by none other than Hua Cheng, who is known to be the most wicked of all. ‘The scrounge of the heavens.’ Is another popular title of his.” 

Scrounge of the heavens, now that was the title of an interesting character! Xie Lian found himself greatly intrigued. 

“In short, Ghost City can be overwhelming and dangerous for most. if Gege doesn’t wish to go there, we can find another way to get the information we need.” 

Xie Lian shook his head, denying the suggestion. With each word, he was only finding himself more curious. 

“In that case, I have a cart in town. The journey shouldn’t take more than three days. If at any time you change your mind, tell me, and we’ll figure something else out.” 

Xie Lian nodded his agreement, then eagerly asked the first question of many that rolled around in his mind on the topic of Ghost City and its mysterious ruler. “Crimson Rain, Sought Flower. Why?” The name sounded particularly familiar..

San Lang shrugged. “Hua Cheng has the ability to make it rain with the blood of those he defeats.” He took a piece of hay, gesturing it around as he told the tale. “One day, he was strolling along after defeating whoever, when he saw a flower being burdened by the rain. So he extended his umbrella, shielding the flower from the pouring blood.” He said, holding the hay over Xie Lian’s head as if it were an umbrella. It made both of them chuckle.

Xie Lian found the story to be such an unexpected and tender act of kindness. The display of empathy for a simple flower.. Xie Lian was beginning to suspect that this so called wicked Hua Cheng was not all that he seemed. At the end of the day, rumors were only rumors. And even if most held a modicum of truth, word of mouth had a tendency to warp the simplest of stories, and completely rewrite the most complicated.

Xie Lian would just have to continue his curiosity in order to solve this mystery. “Hua Cheng look like?” 

“What do you think he should look like?” San Lang asked cryptically. 

Xie Lian tried imagining it for a moment. In his mind’s eye emerged an imposing and merciless figure adorned in flowing black robes. The man was tall, cloaked in a wild aura. Where his face should be was instead a smiling white mask. Despite the threatening picture, Xie Lian felt a fond familiarity.. Then guilt. 

The man in his head approached Xie Lian’s own form, polite and unobtrusive. He took Xie Lian’s hand, then guided him to lay beside on their stomachs. A bed of familiar white flowers and soft grasses greeted them. The masked man kicked his legs joyfully in the air, then picked a pristine white flower, offering it to Xie Lian. 

The stark contrast of the image made Xie Lian’s lips quirk up and reminded him of something San Lang had said previously. “Earlier. San Lang, ‘travel form.’ Hua Cheng, many forms?” 

The man nodded. “A correct assumption. Hua Cheng is known to switch forms on a dime. He does it so often that no one knows what he truly looks like. He can be anything from a ferocious beast to a deadly seductress.” The last words were dripping with an amused tone of mocking quotation. San Lang shrugged. “Whatever he feels like.” 

Xie Lian thought back to the man in his head. Then to San Lang himself. “Cute?” 

San Lang barked out another laugh. Xie Lian felt very proud of himself. “Sure, why not? Though, why does Gege think he would he have a reason to be?” He asked with a coy smirk. 

Xie Lian’s face strangely heated again, he tried shrugging casually, mimicking San Lang’s suave farce. “Whatever. He feels. Like.” He successfully parroted, suddenly laughing as he added,“Or: flirt!” Thinking of how ‘Hua Cheng’ had kicked his legs while gifting the offering. 

San Lang coughed. “Not very likely. Hua Cheng is entirely antisocial and tolerates few people.” 

“Not impossible.” Xie Lian argued, sticking his lip out in a pout. 

San Lang looked away, defeated. “…En.” 

Xie Lian poked the man’s lightly dusted cheeks, thinking to himself. They were supple and bouncy, like mantou. He should bite them. 

He pinched one gently, he had to stay focused. “San Lang, travel form. Not original.” He stated, more than asked. 

“..it’s not.” The man confirmed, voice strained.  

“See real?” Xie Lian asked.

San Lang looked at him with an air of facetiousness. “What if I were to be ugly? Or frightening? Would you still want to see it?” The tone would be casually hypothetical if it weren’t for the fact that San Lang looked constipated.

It was becoming apparent to Xie Lian that, despite San Lang’s confident nature, the man held himself in worryingly low opinion. 

Xie Lian would just have to change that. “Always cute.” He said seriously, poking San Lang’s nose. “Even if, doesn’t matter. Friends. Honest. Sincere.” Xie Lian was once again, incredibly frustrated by his limited speech. If he were able, he would come up with all the clever words to lift his friend’s self esteem, making it impossible to argue. If Xie Lian knew anything about himself, it was that he was stubborn as all hell, and he would not rest until San Lang agreed.

Though to his relief, San Lang didn’t argue, only nodded his head in assent. “I’ll show you sometime, when theres a chance.”

After that, their conversation naturally diverted to random topics, filling in their time cruising past the rice paddies of the country side. 

When Xie Lian inevitably got too mentally exhausted to verbally respond, San Lang was more than happy to indulge him by one sidedly telling him an assortment of random knowledge, all the while with Xie Lian leaning comfortably on San Lang, head resting on his shoulder. Of course, Xie Lian loved all the things San Lang told him, even when he couldn’t fully understand. It didn’t matter either way when his favorite part was savoring the soothing vibrations of San Lang’s voice. 

Two incense sticks later, as San Lang was talking about the history of weaving looms,  the driver hollered back, telling them that they would soon arrive in town. 

“Gege, that reminds me.” San Lang said, reaching his hand to the other side of the cart, careful not to disturb Xie Lian’s position. 

From wherever he pulled out a neatly folded square of light blue to white brocade fabric. It looked exquisite, decorated with gold and silver embroidery accents that shaped swirling clouds and jubilant flowers. It felt as if it was made just to suit Xie Lian’s tastes. 

San Lang held it towards him. “Once dusk hits, it’ll be cold. You can borrow this if you’d like.” 

Now that he mentioned it, Xie Lian was rather chilly. Even with daylight still present, if he were to move away from the warm beacon that was San Lang, he may start to shiver. His single layered robe that he had woken up in was not going to cut it. 

Appreciating San Lang’s thoughtful generosity, Xie Lian nodded and reached out towards the high quality fabric. It felt just as lovely as it looked. “Thank. You.” He managed to say, making no move to unfold the brocade. Too busy tracing the lines of silk embroidery, awestruck at the detail. It felt a piece of home. 

“Would.. you like me to help you, Gege?” San Lang sounded strangely hopeful. 

Xie Lian was mildly confused. A blanket was quite simple to use, wasn’t it? Still he was too tired to question much, and pressed the brocade back to San Lang, nodding. Whatever the help entailed, from San Lang it would always be welcome.   

San Lang smiled back, auburn eyes like warm honey. He gently unfolded the fabric, revealing a different shape than just a simple blanket. The main piece was shaped similarly, a simple rectangle, but unlike a blanket, it had sleeves and lapels, It was actually a robe! 

San Lang diligently draped the fabric over Xie Lian, picking up each of his dead weight arms, and guided them through the sleeves. Xie Lian didn’t have to do anything, and he reveled in the prospect. When San Lang wrapped and tied the robe, he did it the correct way, right over left. 

Xie Lian was not the most skilled with words, nor at perfectly understanding what he felt and why, but every detail of this man felt irrevocably good.  

“One last thing.” San Lang said, reaching into a pouch attached to his belt. He pulled out his hand, and opened his palm, presenting the item to Xie Lian. 

In the bed of his palm, was a ring. Brilliantly crystalline and faceted, and tied to a silver starlight chain. Xie Lian didn’t even have a reference point on how much money things cost, but it looked absolutely priceless. 

“Just a simple piece to tie the outfit together, Gege. Really, nothing big.” San Lang replied quickly. 

He leaned in close, holding Xie Lian’s hair to the side as he clasped the necklace around his neck, the tremor of his hands near imperceptible. On their wavering retreat, his fingers unintentionally brushed the side of Xie Lian’s neck, featherlight and stirring, making him shudder.

When San Lang leaned back, he looked entirely starstruck. As if the only truth of the universe that was and ever will be, was Xie Lian. 

Xie Lian laughed lightly at San Lang’s expressive face, feeling warm and giddy at the attention. He gestured a well? How do I look?

Ever perceptive, San Lang understood. 

“Wonderful, Gege.” He said, emphatic.

Soon after that, the cart came to a stop. San Lang hopped off, dutifully offering his hand to Xie Lian as support. 

Xie Lian scooted forward until his legs dangled over the ledge, then blinked at the hand, then to San Lang. 

He took it in his grasp, then waited open palmed for the other. Of course, a hand quickly followed suit.

Xie Lian guided both of them to his waist, looking at San Lang, expectantly, knowing he would get the picture. 

With only a slight stutter to his face, San Lang tightened his grip, lifting Xie Lian up and pulling him towards himself. Xie Lian’s stomach flipped with delight, and he instinctively reached his arms to wrap around San Lang’s neck. 

When San Lang set him down on the ground, Xie Lian could feel his cheeks burning at the whole situation. But very notably, he realized San Lang was tall. The perfect height for Xie Lian to bend down slightly, and bury his head into that plush chest for a second time. He gazed longingly at his chest, imagining being whisked up and carried safe and warm like the supposed Prince he used to be. 

San Lang coughed. “Shall we?” He asked, holding his elbow out for Xie Lian to grab hold. 

Xie Lian snapped out of his fantasy. Humming happily, he grabbed onto the arm, refraining for now from asking San Lang to carry him. 

Arm in arm, he waved Xiao Huang and the old man goodbye, then poked at San Lang’s side for him to do the same. 

.

.

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Chapter Text

As the pair of ghosts walked along the path into town, Xie Lian took in the quaint yet lively scenery. The town, or rather village, was sized barely a block of heavens roads. Graciously small, and filled with people alight with humble joy. Wholly perfect in its simplicity.

The ghost swathed in soft blue and white felt at ease, and smiled softly at a group of mischievous children playing by a water well. They rowdily swung wooden swords, squealing their assured victories with delight. The sight of it all brought a shining quality to the ghost’s heart. Something that ran deep into his soul, having long since burrowed at the crux.

Xie Lian let himself be led along by his friend in red, the both of them quietly basking in the other’s presence. A chance encounter that had lead to an instant connection. The idea kindled more infinite warmth in Xie Lian as he sighed content and tired, leaning more of his weight onto San Lang's arm, and hoped that it would not be a burden.  

Ruoye, happy that it now had its own opportunity to familiarize itself with San Lang, was all over the man. Coiling around the ghost's entwined arms, bobbing and weaving through the red ghost's ponytail, poking at his cheeks just as Xie Lian had. The comical picture of it all brought another spark of joy into Xie Lian. He felt so tired, but so mystifyingly happy and safe in a way he hadn't thought possible his past turned present existence. 

“Gege, I think it likes me.” San Lang said with a devastating grin. 

A light fit of laughs overtook Xie Lian as he nodded enthusiastically. 

While Ruoye was clearly just as infatuated with San Lang as Xie Lian, Xuedie was entirely uninterested. Content with fluttering after and all around Xie Lian, landing here and there in little bunny hops. Whenever it landed, Xie Lian could feel a kiss of new found glowing energy. So at the very least his body didn’t feel a sack of rocks. He mentally thanked it sincerely.

As Ruoye continued to make itself a nest in San Lang’s hair, they passed by a vendor stall with various baskets of fresh smelling breads and fried dough. The wafting smell lead Xie Lian's nose to turn towards it, making his mouth water unbidden.

San Lang's head casually followed suit in the direction of his attention. “Gege, would you mind if we stocked up? This ghost is very hungry after the perilous journey and assumes Gege might be too. We have a longer trip ahead of us. It would do good to have snacks for the road.” His logic was sound, if very insistent.

Yet despite the convincing argument and appeasing smell, Xie Lian wasn’t feeling particularly enthused to attempt at eating again, but nodded his agreement. After all his friend shouldn't have to go hungry because of his personal phobia. 

Ghosts didn’t technically need to eat but Xie Lian himself knew all too well the bone deep aches of hunger. His body didn’t seem to have them anymore, as it knew that demanding was no longer of use, and would only get food when fate allowed for it. And so now his only clues to his own vast hunger was the all too familiar taste of acid and seemingly constant faint exhaustion. Though for whatever reason the latter had begun to dissipate once in the presence of his friend. Having a friend was good for the heart, he supposed. 

San Lang diverted course, though his observation remained unwavering, soft and attentive. It was as though his mind effortlessly followed the direction of Xie Lian’s, wordlessly empathizing in the way only possible of those who have known and experienced the same. “Would mantou be alright? It’s easy to get down and will keep well enough for you to eat later.” For a self proclaimed hungry man, San Lang was far greater intent on Xie Lian's appetite than his own.

Regardless of his growing suspicion, Xie Lian's eyes darted down to San Lang’s cheeks, and thought to himself, Yes, I’m exactly in the mood for that. As he met San Lang’s eyes again. He nodded innocently, all the while imitating that cunning smirk of San Lang's. 

The man in question nodded in kind, staring at him unblinking for several beats, looking not dissimilar to a diligent student memorizing and taking notes on every detail of the lesson.

Just shy of running into the stall that now laid before them, San Lang stopped abruptly. Quickly moving on as though nothing amusing had happened, he plopped a pouch of jingling metal onto the counter, casually patting the wood beside to gain he attention of the seller. “Ten mantou and four baozi.” He said to the man, voice utterly neutral and devoid of any color other than intent of transaction. 

Xie Lian was mildly taken aback as he noticed the way San Lang spoke to the seller was leagues different from how he spoke to Xie Lian himself. It was curious observing how other’s behavior could differ so drastically depending on whom they interacted with. 

Though it made sense. With the three gods back in heaven, Xie Lian had felt stifled and like he was something to laugh at, unsure how to handle the three’s behavior and situation. With San Lang however, nothing in the world felt simpler. Not once had Xie Lian felt mocked or scared, or told that he was crazy and his lived experience fake. 

Complimenting that fact, San Lang especially was polarizing in the adaptation of behavior, he noted. While right off the bat enthusiastic and polite with Xie Lian, so far indifferent to others. It made him wonder what made himself an exception, was it solely attributed to the instant camaraderie? Or had they really met before? He couldn’t bring himself to fully disregard the thought for a second time, but it felt both possible and not in his infinite and inscrutable past. 

Xie Lian decided he could always think on it later, and instead filled his thoughts with further mental scribing. Pleasantly, he noted that San Lang, though indifferent, showed no active impoliteness, so found his bluntness easy enough to shrug off, even gaining no small amount of respect for how San Lang operated. Different in a way that made the ghost feel complimentary by his companion’s side.

And sure enough, the seller payed no mind to the lackluster tone, eagerly and without a word taking the hefty pouch. In no time they had a basket filled with still steaming buns, wafting that lightly fragrant and unfortunately very enticing smell.

Xie Lian nodded and smiled his thanks to the seller, happy to do so for the both of them.

When the two ghosts found a patch of lush grass to sit atop, Xie Lian was grateful for the rest it provided his legs, and sighed happily as he rested his head on San Lang's shoulder, cheek warm from the steady contact.

His companion diligently laid out the small picnic in front of them, and lifted an ornate water jar pulled from the wherever from previous. “Gege, before you eat, you should get some water down as well.” He said, lifting the jar in the other's direction, offering no further explanation. 

So this was just a plot to get Xie Lian to eat! 

The ghost in white powder blue inwardly sighed his resignation and took the jar. Lifting it to his lips, he took a cautious sip. 

He paused, stunned.

The water felt, for lack of a better term, simply heavenly on his tongue. Eagerly, Xie Lian took another sip. Then a gulp. Then another. Then several. 

“Slower Gege, you’ll get a stomach ache. Small sips.” San Lang gently offered.

Xie Lian wanted to do the exact opposite, feeling absolutely insatiable for the liquid of paradise. Begrudgingly he slowed himself, taking medium sips, looking to San Lang. 

“Good, like that. You’re doing well, Gege.” He encouraged, rubbing soothing circles on the ghost's midback.

Xie Lian looked anywhere but San Lang, feeling very warm and like he might spontaneously explode despite the chill present in the air. 

With the water jar all but dried up and having placated the rising warmth, San Lang handed Xie Lian a fresh mantou from the basket. He passed it such as that of an offering, his hands coming to cup underneath Xie Lian’s, punctuating the tribute. 

Just as he expected, when San Lang removed his hands, he made no move to grab a mantou of his own.

Feeling vexed by the sly man and eager to put off eating, Xie Lian took the mantou and split it in half. Thrusting the other piece in San Lang's direction, silently encouraging him to take it. 

The man, much to his grievance, shook his head, and pushed the piece back to Xie Lian. “Sorry Gege, I changed my mind, I’m not hungry for mantou anymore. Would you do me a favor and take them off my hands?” And before the other could argue, he added smirking like a sly fox, “Don’t worry, I have different snacks, this San Lang of yours won’t go hungry.”

Illustrating his point, San Lang made a show of reaching into the pouch on his belt. And as if demonstrating an elaborate magic trick, pulled out a singular pink shrimp, popping it into his mouth. It was freshly steamed, and made a squeaking noise under the pressure of the man's sharp teeth.

Xie Lian felt his face heat.If you already had snacks to begin with, why would you ask for more!? He of course, already knew the answer.

Regardless of his exasperation, Xie Lian wryly clapped his hands twice in amused bravo. But still unsatisfied, quickly regained seriousness. 

San Lang stared quizzically as Xie Lian gentle but firm, took his face in hand. He lightly pressed his forefinger and thumb into the hinge of the jaw, coaxing it open. The man once again became slack jawed and stupefied. Good.

With a lethal assuredness, the ghost shoved the mantou half to San Lang’s open lips. “Bite.” He said, the demand charged with a centuries old instinct, leaving no room for an argument he didn’t have the energy to have. 

San Lang did not hesitate at the command, and obediently bit into the soft dough, his sharp canines sinking in. Xie Lian at once found himself brimming with an immense and smug satisfaction. San Lang looked to him with breathless awe, eyes wide, cheeks—and even ears—wonderfully dusted.

Xie Lian made a pleased hum of approval as San Lang chewed, feeling the jaw move up and down in his palm. In the back of his head, he felt a peculiar urge to slide his hand down to the throat underneath and feel the food slide down, though he stamped it out with a warm face and conflicted heart. He didn’t want his educational infatuation to be mistaken as a threat. 

Though he opted to remedy the desire. Ginning ear to ear, he teased further with glee. “Swallow.” It was such an obvious action to take when one was chewing food, and so absurd for a second party to offer the suggestion.

Though for whatever unknown reason this only made San Lang do the opposite as he choked. Xie Lian quickly went to roughly pat his back, dislodging the food. 

Feeling a little guilty for his lack of control over the impulsive cruelty, he sent an apologetic smile San Lang’s way, mouthing ‘sorry’. 

The man good naturedly bumped his shoulder to Xie Lian’s, dispelling the pardon. “No apology necessary. Gege’s assistance is always appreciated.” The way he smiled made it impossible for tension to remain. 

Xie Lian snorted a laugh, relieved he didn’t offend in what was likely considered significant overfamiliarity. His heart became further overjoyed when San Lang reached for a mantou from the basket. 

Only then did Xie Lian finally take a bite of his own. Eating alongside a friend was much more pleasant than not. It eased the on the contrary unpleasant feeling of food being mashed to paste in his mouth, staying just a moment too long and becoming uncomfortable before swallowing. At the intrusion, the ghost’s stomach churned in either protest or rejoice, though he wasn’t sure which, as it decided if it wanted to spit the food back up. Thankfully it decided to have mercy. 

Once finished with his single half, his attention quickly drifted back to San Lang. The features of his face were relaxed except for a small knit in his brow. Having not noticed Xie Lian’s attention, he was focused only on eating. The man did so as though it needed to be over with quickly, yet held the bun like there was a chance for it to be taken away. His cheeks were round and full of hastily chewed mantou, making them puff out like a chipmunk. Xie Lian smiled at the thought of mantou stuffed with mantou. An exquisite delicacy reserved for those only with the highest esteem and trust.  

Even after finishing their fill, San Lang remained quiet, as did Xie Lian. It was a comfortable silence comprised of the swaying leaves overhead and the quiet liveliness of the surrounding village. The ambience formed a pleasant bubble, and Xie Lian had no qualms with resting inside as San Lang stayed lost in thought. It was surprisingly just as pleasant as having a conversation. 

Xuedie was perched on his knee, twinkling brightly in the left over sunlight, while Ruoye still laid in its temporarily shared residence on San Lang’s wrist, the long length of its body forming a tether between the two of them. 

Ruoye continued in its passive exploration, taking a particular interest in the red string tied on San Lang’s finger. It mimicked the formation, wrapping around the rest of the thread barren fingers, then poked curiously at the red counterpart, as if to say that it could fulfill the job better than the string. 

The only acknowledgment that San Lang showed was a curious glance down, his mouth forming a bizarre expression of half amusement, half unsure caution. 

Xie Lian tapped on Ruoye, discouraging the impolite prodding and beckoning it to part from San Lang’s hand. It did so, but not before sending a forlorn and longing turn back to the man. Adorable!

Xie Lian let it rest in his hands as he focused his energy into what he wanted to communicate. 

It was unusual, feeling the abstract concepts in his head taking tangible shape when his own voice wasn’t the one facilitating. Nevertheless the words came easily once it had a medium in which to be expressed.

And Ruoye, eager to play the copycat game, shot up in the air, expertly coiling and zipping through the air in a dance of flowing white calligraphy. 

Don’t worry. Ruoye doesn’t mean any harm.

It copied the shapes with a mild sense of sarcasm, as if it were a scolded kid asked by a parent to tell them what they think they’d done wrong.  

San Lang took the unusual method of communication in stride, showing a surprising lack of shock. “No harm done. Ruoye is just intriguing.” 

The dragon visibly preened, bobbing side to side. Xie Lian snorted, yes you’re truly the best dragon, aren’t you?

“Dragon?” San Lang asked with polite interest. Not mocking. 

Xie Lian’s scratched his head in embarrassment, not wanting to sound crazy he quickly pushed his thoughts to Ruoye. 

Yes! Though not at the moment. It’s hard to explain. Back in my afterlife, Ruoye was the first to materialize. When we came here, I’m not sure why it changed forms. Perhaps to save energy?  

Oh dear. It was good Ruoye really was an expert in its quick scribing of Xie Lian’s senseless prattling. …Don’t repeat that.

“Gege’s logic is solid, we can look into it more as we research.” 

The man was completely serious as he said the words and Xie Lian couldn’t help his face from positively beaming. He could kiss San Lang.

Mistaking the thought as intention to communicate, Ruoye began to form the thoughts, before Xie Lian gracelessly swatted it down from the air, patting it in apology at the frantic manhandling.

It was thus his turn to be hit by an intense coughing fit. Something must be in the air, surely some flower pollen and perhaps incense smoke. 

San Lang only gave an inquisitive head tilt, smiling deviously wondering what thoughts Xie Lian cared so much to hide. 

He leaned closer, resting his chin in his hands. “Gege I’m curious, what type of dragon is Ruoye?” 

The ghost thanked whatever forces of fate for the return to original subject. Then realized that he had never fully considered what type of dragon Ruoye was. 

Ruoye had always just been Ruoye. A comforting and loyal friend. That’s all that really mattered to the two of them. 

Xie Lian gave a halfhearted shrug, then nudged the ribbon lightly in asking.

it bobbed for a second, then began to move again. 

Guardian. 

Xie Lian smiled softly. He didn’t know how to hug a ribbon, but he could learn. 

San Lang’s eyes gently crinkled, looking just as pleased. “Noble.” He said with a shining glint in his eye. “Gege keeps good company. Mostly, at least.” He shrugged. 

Xie Lian lifted his brow. 

Mostly? 

He tilted his head, hair falling in a curtain to the side. The sun hit it in a particularly beautiful glow. “Oh you must know, I’m not all that saintly.” He punctuated the declaration with an innocent smile, though his tone felt anything but.

Ghosts were not widely known for being saintly, and Xie Lian trusted that whatever unsaintly acts San Lang had committed, they were not irredeemable. He very well may be developing a strong bias… But if anything, he only became more intrigued by the supposed scoundrel. 

Doesn’t matter. I’m not either, no one is. I trust San Lang.

“Oh? A questionable choice. But this one is honored.” 

Xie Lian rolled his eyes, knocking his shoulder into San Lang’s, taking his turn in the good natured jostling. It was fun, the casual contact. It felt so effortless and that fact invigorated him.

San Lang sighed contentedly. “We should get going before it gets dark.”

In turn Xie Lian just nodded simply, but made no move to get up, instead deciding to stare at San Lang for just a bit longer. 

Eventually, when they finally got up, San Lang hoisting Xie Lian up with their fingers intertwined, they arrived at the cart in short time. 

They were greeted by a driving attendant, who hastily hopped from the coach seat, his knees gangly and bow legged as he landed.

The man had an almost manic smile with skin pulled too tight against his face. “GOOD DAY TO ESTEEMED CH- MASTER- AND ESTEEMED MASTER’S FRIEND!” The drivers jaw clacked oddly as he spoke, arms rattling as he enthusiastically dipped into deep bow. 

“Good day.” Xie Lian friendly parroted, mimicking the bow. 

“You don’t need to bow back.” San Lang said, grumbling dejectedly like a sulking teen. 

Xie Lian bowed deeply to San Lang “Good day, to esteemed master.” He proclaimed with utmost sincerity, titling his head upward so he could catch whatever reaction San Lang was sure to have. 

The man stuck his bottom lip out in a pout, and Xie Lian hit him back with an unrepentant grin.

Ignoring his sulking, Xie Lian then turned to greet the last new face, or rather, snout. 

The horse harnessed to the front of the carriage was a beautiful fire red, complimented by the elegant quality of rich green and bronze tack.

He bowed to her in greeting and laughed as she pinned her ears in response, casting an unimpressed look down her nose. 

He turned to San Lang, pointing at the basket of mantou, then clasped his hands in asking. A still warm mantou appeared in his hand soon after, San Lang forgetting his original pouting face.

The mare sniffed cautiously as Xie Lian offered the treat to her. Once she concluded it was an adequate gift, she rather politely plucked it from Xie Lian’s hand. Her teeth remained courteously tucked away as only her soft nose and hairs tickled his extended hand.

Now that they had become properly acquainted, she accepted the same hand to pet her, as it naturally suited her wishes. She was a stern yet benevolent queen, Xie Lian imagined the possibility of her past royal life.

“Gege is skilled with animals, Xihe bites most strangers.” San Lang said, having followed in pursuit. He lean casually against the carriage hitch. 

Xie Lian raised his brows in surprise. Aside from being cautious, she was well mannered and even seemed sweet, at that.

“ITS TRUE, ESTEEMED MASTER’S COMPANION. EARLIER SHE BIT ME ON THE HIND!” The clack jawed driver clacked. Clack clack. Xie Lian chuckled inwardly.

San Lang shrugged as Xie Lian returned his attention. “She’s got a keen eye for who's trash and who's not. That’s why she's my favorite.” He said with a waggish, teeth baring grin. Xihe accepted his light gratifying pat with her head held proud, returning the gesture by stretching her neck back to nip affectionately at his shoulder.

“Ah, Gege I'm hurt. Apparently Xihe thinks I'm trash too.” 

His frown made Xie Lian want to pat his head in pity, while having to refrain from giggling. San Lang would make for a fine farm boy, he thought idly. Strong and lithe, not to mention deviously quick witted. Even charming. Perhaps amusedly arrogant. The perfect makings for a tenacious individual. One could easily imagine him tending to animals and working fields on a hot day. Though he’d need a bamboo hat to protect him from burning to a crisp.

Xie Lian shook his head, and bumped his side into San Lang for not too indirectly calling his driver trash right in front of the very man.

The mischievous ghost only smiled wider, and payed no mind to the nonverbal scolding, even seemingly amused by it. “Maybe Gege can try riding her sometime. From what I've heard, she's never let anyone come near with a saddle.” 

The ghost nodded. Training animals was somewhat familiar to him from what he could recall. Though slipping in mud and twisting his ankle whilst doing so felt equally familiar, and inevitable.

“I'll be looking forward to it then. But that will have to be a task for ghost city, so shall we?” He asked, tilting his head to the entrance of the cart and holding out his elbow for Xie Lian to grasp.

Xie Lian smiled and gladly accepted San Lang’s arm. If he stumbled on purpose while stepping up to feel those steady hands grasp his waist again, that was neither here nor there.

For a one horse carriage, it was generously spacious, with large open windows covered by elegant red curtains. If Xie Lian chose so, he could sit a comfortable distance away from San Lang, having his personal space on the bench, or even across on the other side. 

Xie Lian scooted closer until their thighs touched. 

San Lang smiled at him with so much warmth, Xie Lian felt like the most fortunate flower basking, and following any direction the sun went. 

“Gege, the journey to our next stop will be a few sichen. You should rest.” San Lang said, reaching dazedly, hand hovering brief in the air, before tucking a strand of hair behind Xie Lian’s ear. 

His touch was a breath of a whisper, grazing no skin, feeling instead like a cooling breeze. Xie Lian hummed in response, wishing to be closer. 

San Lang looked at him quizzically as he adjusted position, turning a tight circle and hoisted his legs on the bench, back turned to the man. 

Finally, Xie Lian allowed himself to give into the growing weight pulling at the chords of his soul. He sunk backwards, heart singing as San Lang quickly adjusted, placing his hands at his back, assisting in his descent. 

Even with the pleasant feeling of open air, Xie Lian was desperate for contact to soothe away the ache of being in the cursedly enclosed space. Not knowing why he felt such a way, he buried his head into the crook of San Lang’s neck. 

He shook with how the overwhelming feelings of dread melted away in the expanse of San Lang’s everything. His warmth, his breath, his beating heart, his scent. It didn’t matter that they were both dead, this was the most alive that he had ever felt. 

Maybe practical strangers shouldn’t be this close, he recalled, but couldn’t bring himself to care in the slightest. The thought only made him bury himself closer, sheltering himself into the infinitely comfortable stretch of the red swathed chest. He wanted to smack his head repeatedly against it until it soothed the strange rush of ecstasy flowing throughout his body, attacking his burning face at any given moment. 

Xie Lian could pass on like this, listening to the quivering exhale of San Lang’s breath as it left his lungs. And Xie Lian would be happy. Happier than he ever thought possible.

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Chapter Text

Hua Cheng had never been one for tears, even as a child, he learned quick to never let them shed, no matter the cost. They served little purpose other than broadcasting weakness to others. It gave them clues on what to do in order to make you miserable, defeat you, and spit on you while at it. 

Hua Cheng did not cry. Crimson Rain Sought Flower desecrated. He burned to ash, roared terrorously, clawed, struck his pathetic emotions outward so they could not become compromising. 

Hua Cheng cradled Dianxia in his undeserving arms. Even in this form, though disguised, the wretchedness was still ever present. 

He tried to keep his shaking at bay. it would be unacceptable to disturb Dianxia from his rest at a time like this. His jaw ached at the effort to keep it sealed shut, he could still taste the mantou Dianxia generously graced him with.

He dared to rest his face near Dianxia, his heart was an obsessive honing beacon that couldn’t be kept at bay. This close, he could smell Xie Lian’s hair. It had a medicinal smell, but was comforting to the pathetic and wretched boy. 

He did not move, save for the unrelenting tremoring. His heart did not beat. He did not breathe. He did not cry, and the tears did not streak down the boys face. Onto Dianxia’s soft hair, little patches of rich browned honey strands turning to burnt umber under the moisture. He only shook, refusing to take his eyes off of Dianxia for even a second. The silk band Ruoye patted at his eyes, and they did not so much as flutter. 

The wretch sincerely wished to torture the one that had put Dianxia in this situation. Which he realized meant himself just as much as the insolent little official. He did not have permission for the latter, but he could punish himself. Later. Dianxia’s comfort took priority.

So he kept still, and clawed for his remaining scraps of efficient focus. This little blip was now over, he decided fervently. 

“Black water. Report.” 

A second. Two. Three. Hua Cheng’s patience was running thin. 

“Hello to you too.” 

“Report.”

“Ugh. Just watch through your little spies. The meeting is half way through, you’re not missing anything important, just ceaseless bickering. The name Fangxin Guoshi has been the only thing mentioned of interest so far. Over and over in fact, by the over-eager one. Taihua.” 

Hua Cheng bit his tongue, as much as he was peeved to admit, He Xuan was right, and Hua Cheng didn’t have time to waste telling him just where he could stick it. 

It was comically easy to find a spot to summon and hide a wraith butterfly. They could be slapped upon any random pillar or wall and would blend in well enough to the mundane white and gold aesthetics of heaven.

The broom official known as Mu Qing let out an even sigh, clearly fed up with the apparent bickering. “Why bother going after him? He got into this mess, if he doesn’t want to be here then oh well.” 

The little dense-headed former student Taihua spoke next. “It’s not about that! And it’s up to you least of all to decide. He slaughtered my family! I need to know why, isn’t that the least of what I deserve?”  

“You buried him. Alive. Don't you think that should suffice as justice? And I’m sure you can figure out the question of why for yourself.” General Egregious Manhood spoke. As block headed as he was, it was surprising to hear him speak with any moderate amount of sense.

“I didn’t know he was alive! Do you truly believe I would ever do something like that?” 

General dick Feng Xin shrugged. “Okay, okay. Regardless, I still think we should go after him. He was kidnapped by Crimson Rain, it is our duty to rescue him. Regardless of any past crimes.”

Hua Cheng rubbed his temple. “How many times can he say ‘regardless’? Read a book and find more words.” 

He Xuan snickered “If he were handed a book, he would only know to use it to squash bugs.” 

Broom general scoffed. “Have you considered this could be a situation of allies, not kidnapping? Just when things got unfavorable for dianxia, he burned down your temple and ran. The implication is damning, if you ask me.”

Feng Xin boiled over and took the collar of the Mu Qing in his fist. “Well then its good that I didn't. You've always resented him, you're biased.” 

“And you've always followed him blindly like an over-eager obedient dog! If anyone is biased, it's you.” 

“The pot calls the kettle black. And the kettle calls the pot in turn.” It was so predictable, Hua Cheng under ordinary circumstances would laugh.

“Settle down.” An unmistakably even voice called out as he slapped his hand against the meeting table. Jun Wu sat in the head chair with an air of utter stillness, like the last gold leaf being placed on a teetering palace. 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” They said in tandem. 

‘over-eager obedient dog’ really was a stellar term, as it turned out. 

"We cannot yet say for sure if Xianle is guilty of what Taihua has described, a trial needs to be held. To do this, we need Xianle to return.” The emperor paused, and the atmosphere in the room seemed to grow more stifled with it. “Taihua, it would be advisable for your own benefit that you stay. Xuan Zhen, Nan Yang, you shall go, as you know Xianle closely and will know how to best cater to his affliction. Finally, a neutral party shall join along. Are there any to volunteer?" 

The hall was utterly silent.

"There will be a suitable reward, of course."

Crickets.

Another beat and then, a slender hand raised midway in the air. The stunned silence that followed spoke loudly. 

Jun Wu raised his brows, practically a dropped jaw in his stone-faced book. 

“Ling Wen. What an unexpected surprise.” He seemed almost amused, but it was too uncertain to tell.

“It is merely an educational curiosity. I hope Your Majesty indulge me in this interest, if only briefly, as I understand my duties are vital to the operation of heaven.” 

“I’m sure your junior officials can manage in the meantime.” An unimportant junior official shrugged. “Not like there will be much change.” They murmured to their peers.

“Well then, that settles it. Ling Wen you may go.” The old bastard smiled into a tightlipped line, like that of a wealthy and well preserved corpse. It brought an instinctive and odd pang of sick dread to Hua Cheng’s gut. “I thank you for your enthusiasm to volunteer.” 

The guy was just too damn off-putting. He had an eerie, not too dissimilar demeanor to that of the slimy men that would occasionally scour the alleyways of Xian Le. Their stuck up wealthy noses made it obvious that despite their artificially tattered clothes, they were wolves in sheep's clothing. 

Their unblemished faces had a quiet and steady lack of a soul, smiling utterly calm like that, offering toys and sweets to the scrappy street children. Hong-er never dared go near no matter how hungry he was. Even at that young age, he was no stranger to the various places the children that did take the treats ended up.

Jun Wu was utterly too nothing. Too blank. Like he had an ocean of thoughts impenetrably concealed behind his lightless eyes. Hua Cheng fumbled to ever read him entirely. And Hua Cheng could read anybody. 

The meeting finally draws to an end with mind numbing pleasantries and dull preparations. 

“What a fucking headache.” Hua Cheng dismissed the butterfly, he’d had enough blinding light, bickering officials, and off-putting men for an entire year. 

“Agreed.” 

“Go choke on a damn rib bone, you deserve it after that disaster.” 

“What an oddly nice thing to say, color me surprised Crimson Rain.” 

“Shut up.” 

Hua Cheng cut the array line. 

So what if they wanted to do a retrieval with bullshit wishy washy motivations. Let them try. 

“Yin Yu, what can you tell me about FangXin Guoshi?”

Chapter Text

In Hua Cheng’s wholly unbiased and informed opinion, the story of Fangxin Guoshi of Yong’an reeked of hidden strings and misplaced blame. There were a few paths the underlying story could go, and none of them pointed to Xie Lian being an unjustified mass murderer. The descriptions of the deaths that Yin Yu had relayed from historical records seemed much more sloppy and wrathful than clean cut executions a trained sword would carry out.  

Even if Xie Lian had done something however directly or indirectly, he wouldn’t have done so without reasonable purpose and he wasn’t the type to borderline mutilate corpses as Yin Yu had described. 

But none of that really mattered as Hua Cheng would protect him no matter the circumstance. He refused to be useless. 

All the gods in heaven were welcome to come and try all they’d like, but Hua Cheng did not feel inclined to let them touch a hair on Xie Lian’s head. 

Whenever Hua Cheng let himself think about the conditions Xie Lian must’ve faced in the coffin, his stomach became uneasy with dread and rage. He was no stranger to graves, and digging out of them, but staying? For decades on end. The thought of it made him spiral.

Xie Lian, while steadfastly resilient, was evidently far from recovered. In Hua Cheng’s arms, he felt all too frail. He needed food, a proper bed, and all the necessary time and space to recover. Which was why ghost city was the soonest location on the roster.

For the first time in centuries, Hua Cheng felt fragile and unsure. His wicked heart pleaded to keep Xie Lian safe by any means necessary, but he knew well to curb the possessive side of it. Xie Lian was his own person, who could make his own decisions. For however long he may choose to stay by Hua Cheng’s side, he will be anything necessary for him. Hua Cheng refused to be selfish in any way, let alone an obsessive freakish child crying for attention. 

The child inside him had to resist the urge to curl his arms around the god and cling to him for dear life. Begging him to be okay and rely on his devoted servant for any need, begging him to stay. A large part of it was selfish. Of course he knew that. Of course that wickedly human part of him craved to be his gods everything, kiss away his sorrows and soothe his aches with the finest spiritual energy a god or ghost could ask for.

Ruoye kept on prodding his face. Hua Cheng felt complicated on it. He felt respect and gratefulness towards it for protecting Xie Lian, even though it technically harmed him upon ascension. But what else could’ve been done? He instinctively wanted to reject the thought, but he knew Ruoye did the only thing it could to protect him in the most painless way possible. 

Ruoye was an extension of Xie Lian’s soul after all. Fused with and bonded by the blood upon the altar. 

The altar. The altar. Fuck.

What else was Hua Cheng not there to prevent? How much suffering had his beloved suffered while Hua Cheng was too useless to do anything to help? Why did it take so long to find him? Why? Useless. He wanted to destroy. Lang Qianqiu-Himself. He-

Ruoye squeezed his chest tight, he hadn’t even noticed it had wrapped itself around him. The uneven furious breathing that had automatically kicked into gear was forced to slow. He didn’t need to breathe. But he felt suffocated.

Ruoye loosened, then tightened, naturally guiding his breath into a lulling pattern. He accepted with self contempt that in this moment he was no better than a child. He could allow this small slip if it meant he could pull his act together. He had to be there for him. Hua Cheng often found self kindness and platitudes to be unacceptable, but it was necessary in this rare instance. 

His face decidedly did not crumple silently. The pathetic boy inside him did not cry further. The ghost king didn’t either, of course. The world knew nothing of it, closed off by enchanted red and gold curtains. So not another tear was shed. 

He didn’t whisper aloud his desperate gratitude to Ruoye. Thank you. Thank you. God, thank you. 

He’s safe now, he’s safe, he’ll be okay. 

He did not acknowledge that the words were just as much for himself as for his god. For he did not deserve such childish reassurances

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.

The ghost drawn carriage stuttered to a halt in the middle of an inconspicuous patch of land, Hua Cheng nodded to himself, enough time had passed for Xie Lian to get some light rest, and for Hua Cheng to pull his head out his ass. 

Breathing out a sigh, the ghost king waved his hand, summoning the entirety of Ghost City's Shen Rulong inn, one of the less lively of Ghost City’s establishments. 

The foundations creaked and groaned as they adjusted to the uneven terrain, but the building remained otherwise unscathed. It wasn't perfect, but it was the best he could provide without risk of overwhelming Xie Lian’s senses. 

Hua Cheng stilled his hand that picked at the skin of his opposite wrist, healing the marred flesh with a wave of his hand. It was an animalistic instinct to continue, and do so until his own wrist separated, like a dog chewing itself from its chains, but he refrained. He had to keep this form appealing, disturbing Dianxia in any way would be unacceptable. 

With gentle hands, Hua Cheng brushed the hair that had fallen out of place during Xie Lian's sleep. His face was at peace like this, unburdened by the constant subtle twitches of discomfort, even when evidently happy. Nerve damage wasn’t off the list of possible left over ailments that had yet to heal. 

It was like Xie Lian’s body just couldn't relax, a tightening here, a jump there, Hua Cheng couldn't stand the thought that Xie Lian was distressed even without the god himself seeming to realize such. 

Hua Cheng didn't even know if all his analyzing was fully correct. Knowing Xie Lian, until now, had felt distant and fleeting, however impactful. A life's dream he needed so desperately to reach, and yet at every turn being prevented from doing so. 

But now, it was real. So real that he felt giddy with it, crazed for more, greedy, conflicted, wanting to draw back in fear of harming Dianxia. 

The need to keep him safe, it picked at Hua Cheng's skin and bit into his flesh every waking moment. He was like a disturbed wretch, obsessed with someone special and gracious. One who cared so much for others, and who got nothing in return from the rotten world. 

He halted his thumb, which had been rubbing self soothing circles on Dianxia's cheek-Stop being a fucking freak.-and took one more greedy second to gaze at his soft features, illuminated stunningly by the red lanterns of the carriage. 

I'll make it better, I promise. You won't have to ever experience any more pain, not while I'm here, I swear. Stop being a fucking freak, he hasn't even chosen to stay- you're lying to him you little-

"Gege, we're here, are you ready to get up?" Hua Cheng said in the most soothing voice his thrashing heart could manage. Dianxia needs stability, someone who won't be selfish and needy.  

Watching Xie Lian's face shift as he woke was frankly a blessing Hua Cheng was not deserving of. But watching as it fell into stillness, his heart sank.

Xie Lian opened his eyes, they were as lovely as ever, but there was no light to be found in them. For a split second, they only starred up at Hua Cheng without any hint of emotion, any hint of anything, as if they were the eyes of a corpse. 

The boy felt grief clump together in his throat, on the brink of collapse. It's okay it's okay. His heart is beating. He's okay. He's not dead. He's safe. He's safe. I'll make it so. I’ll write it into existence if not.

Xie Lian's gaze then filled with a tired warmth, it was subtle but apparent and genuine. 

"Sa-Lah-" The syllables were undefined, spoken with a layer of melancholy. Why? What can I do? I'll make it better. Anything you need it’ll be yours.

Hua Cheng smiled, that same melancholy attaching to his heart, Xie Lian’s pain was his pain. "Hello Gege, did you sleep well?"

Xie Lian didn't respond, but his face shifted with confusion as he brought his hand upward, and caressed Hua Cheng's face. 

Gege. Dianxia. Xie Lian. My God. I love you, I love you I-

Xie Lian lightly prodded at the tender tear stained skin underneath Hua Cheng's eyes. It still burned slightly, especially with the contact, but he had wanted to leave the pain as a reminder to keep it together. However he now regretted it, as Xie Lian investigated as though asking a question. 

He couldn't answer it. Not without revealing too much, becoming another one of Xie Lian's burdens. Refusing to do such a thing, Hua Cheng only averted his gaze, letting his hair shield from those intelligent and perceptive eyes.

Regretfully, and thankfully, Xie Lian removed his hand. But his face donned an apologetic quality, and Hua Cheng wanted to claw out his other eye for making such a face appear on his visage.

Smiling softly down at Xie Lian, Hua Cheng moved the unkempt strands of hair out of his face again-it should be brushed-and tried to silently convey with his entire soul how much Xie Lian had done nothing wrong. It was an interesting dance, communicating so much with so few words. They had only really interacted for so long, and yet Hua Cheng was resistant to say that the ease in which they connected was pure self delusion. Maybe halfway, but not fully.

And evidently, the worry on Xie Lian’s face faded, and Hua Cheng wanted to claw at himself that much less. His God sighed in deep as the tension released from his shoulders. During his sleep he had shifted off of Hua Cheng's chest, and onto his lap.  

Idly, Hua Cheng twirled Xie Lian's hair between his fingers. It was soft, and radiated that medicinal incense scent even from the increased distance. 

"We should continue resting in the inn, if that is alright with Gege. It'll surly be more comfortable than my lap." 

Xie Lian's mouth grew wry in a way that made Hua Cheng's heart stutter to a start. He mumbled something Hua Cheng couldn't quite discern, then nodded and used his shoulders for leverage to sit up, but not without a grunt and several winces. 

Naturally, Hua Cheng's arms came up to assist, and Xie Lian even seemed eager to be lifted off the carriage like the royalty he was. Despite the near constant stream of spiritual energy siphoned through 'Xuedie', Xie Lian's body still showed unmistakable signs of fatigue and pain. 

Xie Lian himself seemed to be relieved from most of it, which was an improvement, but it still existed.

His body was still in a state of recovery, and it would take much more rest, space from stress, and spiritual energy to expedite the process. Decades of being buried wouldn’t resolve itself in just a few weeks, even for a god. In retrospect, it was a wonder that the psychological impacts alone were so far as minute as they could be. 

As was such, Hua Cheng made no move to put Xie Lian back down, and neither did Xie Lian make any move to get down from Hua Cheng’s arms.

“HAVE A GOOD EVENING MASTERS! THIS SERVANT WILL WAIT ‘ERE TILL MORNING.” The infuriatingly useless ghost bellowed with crude perception of appropriate volume, and his bones popped disgustingly as he bowed.

It was otherwise moderately annoying, however, Hua Cheng's anger flared as Dianxia winced at the noise, face twisting in a half polite grimace. 

Unacceptable. Hua Cheng should have hired some random mortal, or at least a ghost without a jaw bone to clack so loudly.

Stepping closer, Hua Cheng aimed to silently domineer over the disguised ghost and get the message across to shut. up. 

That was until a hand reassuringly patted against his chest, a little lower than usual fashion, but Hua Cheng subsided, feeling guilty that Dianxia felt the need to subdue him like an unruly animal. Dog.

Still holding Dianxia in his arms, Hua Cheng simply kept walking, making their way to the summoned Ghost City Inn.

The buildings exterior was less audacious then Ghost City's usual buildings, but none the less bold in its presentation, unafraid to draw attention from ghosts with more ‘classy’ tastes.  

Lining each corner of the ascending roof tiers were sculptures of golden tigers, and carved jade rabbits that resembled ghost fires. Each pair of sculptures portrayed a different scene of the two interacting, and as they went upwards the pairs became closer and closer, until at the very top they sat proud together in red and gold decorations. 

It was alright. And probably suspicious for its out of nowhere location..

Hua Cheng had specifically selected it, or rather, ordered Yin Yu to find an inn to his exact requirements. It wasn't allowed to be shabby or unattractive, it had to be comfortable but not overwhelming, inviting, but not overbearing. It was much like he constructed his current form, personalized just for Xie Lian. Not ugly and scary, reliable, comforting, anything that he may need. The very best that Hua Cheng could provide on such short notice.

Studying Xie Lian's face, Hua Cheng wasn't sure how to read it. It was possible he was still waking up. “Is it to Gege’s liking? We can find something else if not. There’s an inn not too far up the road.”

There was not, but he could make it so.

Xie Lian squeezed his hand, as if to reassure, he shouldn't be obligated to do so, and motioned for them to continue forward. As if Hua Cheng were his noble stead, the thought made him chuckle internally. 

The interior of the inn was elegant, and more subdued than the out going exterior. To the right was a rather cozy lobby with bookshelves and a small water fountain. Sat on the ledge was an aquatic ghost with braided hair and faded green robes plucking away on a white guqin, adding to the pleasantly subdued atmosphere. Hua Cheng had to admit, Yin Yu really outdid himself.

To the left was a man in sunset orange robes  behind a simple receptionist desk, "Welcome to the Shen Rulong inn, what can I do ya folks for?" As he spoke his large, tiger like teeth formed into a cheshire cat like smile. 

"Mn. Top floor suite. Send up some tea and-" He stumbled for a beat. It would be odd to ask for human cuisine, Xie Lian would without a doubt grow suspicious. "The tourist special." 

The man snorted, his many yellow eyes crinkling. “You can just say the word human you know, we promise all guests comfort and safety and all that, sir."  

Well great, this ghost had no concept of discretion. Luckily, Xie Lian didn't seem focused on the conversation, his gaze sleepily fixed somewhere in the middle distance. Despite everything it was rather cute, and Hua Cheng had to put some effort into keeping himself from smiling at him fondly. Hua Cheng was well aware they were already making a spectacle with the whole princess carrying, not to mention the implication of asking for the top suite in such a state. Luckily ghosts weren’t ones to care about other’s business… Well, at least the ones who knew what was best for them.

“Ah I just remembered sir, unfortunately.." The overly casual receptionist continued. “The top floor suite room is already booked. We would be happy to provide you with one of our other rooms. Perhaps a hot spring or meadow replica suite? Perfect for recovering from the chaos of the city.” 

“What do you mean it’s already booked?” Hua Cheng gritted out through his teeth.

“Well you see, its a fun story! We got a special request from the Waning Moon Officer himself, direct from Chengzhu, can you believe it? He's going to be visi-”

Xie Lian’s attention perked up at all the ghost’s chattering. Just great.

“Yes, yes. How interesting. Are you sure?”

“Sorry?”

“Are you sure?” His eye flashed as he spoke into a communication array—That I am not the person who booked the room.—“That the room is still booked?” He let his face slip into a bastardized tight lipped smile, watching as the cogs turned in the host's empty head. It was pretty funny in Hua Cheng’s defense. 

Infinite reserves of power, riches, and respect were nice and all, but nothing beat the comical faces when people realized that Hua Cheng wasn’t a typical human nor ghost to push around. Now in his death, Hua Cheng got to do the pushing.

Without missing a beat, the ghost blanched as it sunk in. He grabbed a certainly random book from behind the desk, flipping through it rapidly. “Yes, I see here now, the room is no longer taken ha ha ha ha. I’m very sorry for the misunderstanding, we will get the tea and food to you right away, thank you.” The ghost bowed deeply as he passed the room token. “Enjoy your stay here at the Shen Hulong inn. We are honored and hope you find your stay rejuvenating.” 

Xie Lian looked at the ghost quizzically before taking it upon himself to grab the little jade tiger token. 

“Good.” Hua Cheng Tsk’d and dipped his chin in a curt nod. Xie Lian clasped his hands in a much more polite gesture of thanks.

After a warm meal and drinks, they settled into the comfortably spacious bed

“Pray Gege doesn’t mind sharing.” Hua Cheng whispered in the dim lantern light.

Xie Lian shook his head, then yawned, and to Hua Cheng’s surprise, shuffled closer until they were huddled together under the plush covers. It was more than Hua Cheng could ever dream of, and tentatively, he boldly wrapped his arms around Xie Lian’s waist, his mind possessed by his warmth, his mere existence, his everything. 

Xie Lian made a sound of contentment, and Hua Cheng reflexively let out a satisfied sigh of his own. “Gege, would you, want to exchange communication array passwords?” He blurted out dumbly, breaking the gentle silence of the moment, he could smack himself. 

Xie Lian’s face actually lit up as if to say ‘San Lang is so smart! And handsome! Why didn’t I think of that?’ Or something along those lines..

He pointed excitedly to Hua Cheng.

“Me first? Alright. My password is…” He leaned in close to Xie Lian’s ear, whispering the shameless words just a breadth away.

Xie Lian gasped audibly, “San Lang-!” And covered his face with his hands. 

Hua Cheng chuckled, “Whats wrong? Do you not like it?” 

At that Xie Lian just buried his face into his chest, groaning in misery. 

“Well? It’ll be easier to say yours in the array, won’t it, c’mon Gege, I’ll be waiting.” He teased.

Xie Lian glared at him for several seconds. Technically he could say it out loud if he really wanted to, but it was more fun this way, and Xie Lian didn’t seem to catch onto the trickery. 

“Just recite the ethics sutra a thousand times.” 

Hua Cheng raised his brows, “Oh? Is Gege that mad with me?” He said with a wicked grin.

“Naughty. Serves you right.”

“Mn, and Gege is clever.” He said into the array, he absently wondered how many officials had fallen for the misleading password. 

Xie Lian huffed haughtily, “Go to sleep, San Lang”

“Dianxia is cruel to this San Lang.” He bemoaned. Xie Lian only responded with an eye roll and pointedly closed in on Hua Cheng’s chest again, pretending to fall instantly asleep. 

“Good night, Gege. Sleep well.” Hua Cheng whispered into the night, daring to pat Xie Lian’s soft hair. 

“Mm. You. Too.”