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It had been centuries. Xie Lian had lost track of exactly how long. Eventually, it all started to blend together. He mostly just judged the time by the changes. The world had grown so much over time. Technology had changed. Humans had adapted. Even styles had changed so many times he could hardly keep up. They still wore the same things. Only when they visited the mortal realm did they change to blend in.
Xie Lian usually opted for jeans and a beige sweater. Something simple and comfortable. He still had Ruoye wrapped around his arm beneath the fabric. The most challenging change to get used to was that he wasn’t allowed to wear his straw hat. It would be far too conspicuous. Hua Cheng seemed to embrace fashion far better. He usually wore a black shirt with black jeans. His belt was adorned with chains and butterflies, and Hua Cheng wore his usual boots. When it was cold, he’d add a dark maroon leather jacket to the mix, and maybe it was a little outdated, but Hua Cheng made it work. He looked good. He always looked good. They had yet to cut their hair despite it seeming more common. Neither wanted to. Instead, they usually tied it back, which seemed enough for them to blend in.
Xie Lian was deeply engrossed in the text before him when he felt the familiar, comforting embrace of Hua Cheng's arms looping around his waist. A smile tugged at his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the warmth that Hua Cheng's presence always brought him. But he kept reading, not wanting to break the spell of the moment.
“You've been staring at that screen for a while now. What’s so fascinating about,” Hua Cheng rested his chin on Xie Lian’s shoulder as he looked down at the screen, “Mongolian death worms? What’s that?”
Xie Lian gestured to the giant worm display before him, “It’s interesting to learn what they come up with for some creatures they know nothing about.”
It reminded him of the worms he and Shi Qingxuan had been chased by all those centuries ago. If this was the same creature, mortals had yet to figure them out. If the text was anything to go off, they had little proof that it existed. Xie Lian didn’t believe the ones he’d seen were poisonous to touch, but this said they were. It said they were smaller than the ones he’d seen, too. Maybe a juvenile? It said they could spit poison from a distance. Definitely not the same creature, then.
“Interesting,” Hua Cheng murmured, sounding not at all convincing. He slowly guided Xie Lian away from the display and down the hall, “Come on, there’s an exhibition I’ve really wanted to see.”
“So, you did have ulterior motives for bringing me here?” Xie Lian teased.
Hua Cheng had insisted on taking Xie Lian to the museum. He’d said it would be a fun date, that he knew how much Xie Lian loved to learn. Even if most of the things in that museum were things he already knew, just from the perspective of mortals with far less information. He was right, of course. Xie Lian had enjoyed every moment of it. It was all so interesting. It was even better than Ling Wen’s scrolls. There were visuals with it; sometimes, it was even interactive. Xie Lian could’ve happily spent an entire day in that place without ever getting bored.
His blood ran cold when they turned the corner.
There was a doorway open and inviting. On the wall beside it was a large display announcing what was inside; His Highness Who Pleased the Gods. Xie Lian kept reading it repeatedly, trying to rationalise that it could be about anyone. There were lots of princes throughout the centuries. Lots of princes who had made the gods happy. It wasn’t necessarily him. But that was the title that had been used with him before. There was a ribbon decorating the sign that looked just like Ruoye. Hua Cheng had been so excited to see it. It all fit too well.
Xie Lian had gone still, staring at the sign. Hua Cheng frowned when he turned back to him, “What’s wrong?”
“I… I don’t think I should… see this one.”
“Why not?” Hua Cheng brushed a hand along Xie Lian’s arm, threading their fingers together once he reached his hand, “It’s okay. It won’t be as bad as you think.”
“You don’t know that,” Xie Lian worried, his lip between his teeth as he dropped his gaze to the floor, “They hated me. If I go in there, it’ll be all about the horrible things I’ve done.”
“That was a long time ago,” Hua Cheng pointed out. He rested their heads together and spoke quietly, “If it’s that bad, I’ll burn it to the ground, okay?”
Xie Lian chuckled, “You shouldn’t do things like that.”
“I will. For gege,” He smiled reassuringly and swooped in to kiss Xie Lian’s cheek, “I’ll be right beside you. If any of it makes you uncomfortable, we can leave. But I really want to see an exhibit dedicated to my husband.”
Xie Lian could understand that. He’d absolutely jump at the opportunity if there was an exhibit about Hua Cheng. Maybe there would be. This one seemed to be temporary. It might be Hua Cheng’s only chance to see it.
Xie Lian nodded hesitantly, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “Okay, okay, but I can leave whenever I want.”
“Of course,” Hua Cheng kissed him quickly, their lips lingering for a moment, “But I bet they love you.”
“I doubt it,” Xie Lian chuckled, trying to mask his growing unease. There was a knot forming in his stomach as he thought about it, about what could be in that room. How bad was it going to be? If they made it accurate, there would be plenty of bad things to draw from. Xie Lian hadn’t been the best person. But the title was a flattering one. They could’ve gone with something about being the god of misfortune. Instead, they went with something optimistic. That counted for something… right?
Stepping into the room, he was immediately struck by how… lovely everything was. It wasn’t over the top, either. Some cherry blossoms were painted along the walls, but that was about all they’d done. It was simple. Xie Lian liked simple. He could see a replica of his usual attire in one corner, a replica of Fang Xin to one side with a silk ribbon that he could only assume was supposed to be Ruoye.
Xie Lian stepped towards it, reading the plaque placed in front of the glass case describing the sword and his beloved ribbon. They hadn’t gotten it wrong. He bit his lip when he read about the dark past of his weapons. Gods, it’d been so long—so, so long—but it still hurt.
Hua Cheng gently squeezed his hand, “It’s okay. That’s nothing bad about you.”
“I know,” Xie Lian mustered up his most reassuring smile. It hurt, but not because it was about him. The memories were just painful ones, ones he’d tried so hard to bury deep inside himself. He could forget a lot of bad memories, but some of them never really went away.
Taking a few more steps through the room, Xie Lian flinched when he saw the display with the white masks. One had a face that was half smiling, half crying. The other had just a smile. He buried his face against Hua Cheng’s neck. It was the closest he could do to hide from it without leaving. This wasn’t Hua Cheng’s fault. He couldn’t have known. But it made sense that it was there. It was part of his past. A big part of his past.
Hua Cheng’s arm wrapped protectively around his waist, hugging Xie Lian to his side as he said, “We can go if you want.”
“No,” Xie Lian took a shaky breath, trying to steady himself. He didn’t actually want to leave like he thought he would. He hadn’t heard anything bad said about him, and now, he was curious to know exactly what they thought of him. “Can you… read it to me?”
He didn’t want to look at that mask. He hoped he’d never see it again. If it wasn’t for the guilt, he would’ve found comfort in the other one.
“The Crown Prince was said to have been haunted by a malevolent spirit bent on corruption. The phantom slowly drove the Prince mad and forced him to commit atrocities on the common people he loved dearly,” Hua Cheng read.
“That’s not true,” Xie Lian whispered.
“It’s not a lie.”
“I did what I did because I was grieving… I was angry… I wasn’t the same after…” Xie Lian shuddered as he remembered that night in that temple, when he thought of the sword being passed from person to person.
“He did that to you,” Hua Cheng pressed a kiss atop his head, “He was the one who put you in that dark place. They were your actions, but you were pushed into a corner.”
Xie Lian nuzzled Hua Cheng’s neck, hugging him tighter. He was too kind. He was giving Xie Lian too much credit. It didn’t matter what had happened to him. To have done the things he’d done, he was weak. He’d always known that, though he’d done his best to move beyond it and learn from it. He’d never be that person again. He couldn’t allow himself to be.
“What else does it say?”
“The Crown Prince was able to break free of the fiend’s grasp due to his strength of heart and conviction,” Hua Cheng read.
Xie Lian hesitantly lifted his head as Hua Cheng read it. It was so… positive. They weren’t painting him as the monster that he was. They said he was a victim. They said he was strong. He stepped closer to the screen and read everything Hua Cheng had. He didn’t make it up to make Xie Lian feel better. It was all there. They didn’t seem to hate him. Not as much as Xie Lian had expected them to.
Xie Lian read the next part quietly, “The Prince was able to end the ghost’s evil plot with the help of his one devotee, a nameless soul with unwavering faith in the god everyone had given up on.”
Xie Lian smiled fondly as he read it, hesitantly looking up at the smiling mask before him. It was true. There was no telling what could’ve happened to him if Hua Cheng hadn’t sacrificed himself. The guilt never faded. He’d made that mess. He’d been so unkind to Wu Ming. He’d put Hua Cheng through that. However, the knowledge that Hua Cheng believed so strongly in him and that he would follow him through anything had never left Xie Lian.
Hua Cheng scrunched up his nose, “That’s not true. You did it on your own.”
Xie Lian laughed, wiping the tears from his eyes as he turned back to Hua Cheng, “It’s true to me. You saved my life.”
“I’d do it a thousand times over,” Hua Cheng smiled reassuringly.
Xie Lian felt a little lighter. That was the most horrific thing he’d done, and they didn’t seem to be condemning him for it. It was comforting in a way. Maybe over time, people had become more forgiving. Perhaps it was hard to feel as strongly about it when it had happened so many centuries ago. Perhaps they didn’t really believe it had happened. It was written down like these were myths, like his life story was something people chose whether or not they wanted to believe. He supposed that was what it meant to be a god. People believed, or they didn’t.
Stepping further into the room, Xie Lian brushed his fingers along another glass case, admiring the strange figures of creatures that had been made. He didn’t recognise them, but reading the screens before them made them seem vaguely familiar. They were what the people guessed some of the beasts he’d fought over the centuries looked like. Some seemed more ferocious than he remembered, some more tame. Xie Lian hadn’t realised how many things he’d faced to keep people safe over the centuries. There was always something. There really was no end to being a god, not as long as there were those who believed in him. He loved it, though. It made him happy knowing that people still had faith in him after all this time.
Xie Lian’s breath caught when he turned to look at the back wall. It was covered in pictures. As he stepped closer, he realised what they were; a collage of murals from his temples, all portraying Xie Lian with Hua Cheng at his side. The red string was a common theme throughout. He’d seen them before, but never all together like that. He didn’t realise just how many there were. And he knew that it wasn’t all of his temples. There were many in the ghost realm as well. To have come from nothing to this was… overwhelming.
There was a large display case that ran right along the wall. It was filled with several little trinkets. A coral earring, a red string, a butterfly that seemed to be made of glass. There was a ring on a chain, and Xie Lian found himself reflexively reaching for the one around his neck. It wasn’t the same, nowhere near as precious. But, the display made him happy. It made him happy to know that even in an exhibit that was supposed to be about him, Hua Cheng was still such a prominent figure. It made sense. Hua Cheng was the most important thing to him, the person who mattered most.
“The Prince fell in love,” Hua Cheng read on the screen, sounding surprisingly nonchalant given the subject, “And though the object of his affection was an opposing force, he never wavered. The man he loved was a cruel, intimidating ghost, one of the land’s four strongest and most feared spirits: The Blood Rain Flower Seeker.”
Xie Lian chuckled, “That’s not right.”
“Lost in translation over the years, I guess,” Hua Cheng shrugged, “I don’t mind. They still have me listed as one of the strongest.”
“And cruel,” Xie Lian frowned, “You aren't cruel.”
“I am when it’s earned,” Hua Cheng smirked. He looked at the screen and continued reading, “Prince Xie Lian saw the man’s tenderness and gentle heart hidden beneath the malice. The ghost showed kindness only to the Prince, staying by his side through their deepest hardships.”
“Not wrong,” Xie Lian laughed. He stepped closer and kissed Hua Cheng’s cheek, “I do think it’s kind of cute when you insult the others.”
“That’s my bad influence on you,” Hua Cheng said, reaching for his hand and threading their fingers together, “I’ve corrupted Dianxia.”
“I don’t mind,” Xie Lian smiled fondly. If anything, Hua Cheng’s influence over the centuries had taught him to relax a little and that things didn’t have to be quite so structured. Though he’d done the opposite to Hua Cheng. He had more structure in his life and how he ran Ghost City. They’d both found their own happy medium. Xie Lian pulled Hua Cheng along, “What’s this?”
“Dolls?” Hua Cheng hummed thoughtfully.
Before them were a pair of small plush dolls that bore a striking resemblance to the pair of them but in an adorable style. They sat with their eyes closed, one hand reaching for the other, and a red string attached to the pair at the hand they held between them. It looked similar to the way they were holding hands as they looked curiously at them. These particular ones weren’t made of an incredibly lavish material, though the string that connected them shimmered in the light.
“They’re adorable,” Xie Lian smiled fondly. He hadn’t expected to find something so charming, and he especially hadn’t expected to find something he’d never seen before.
Hua Cheng leaned over the screen, reading, “Prince Xie Lian soon became known as a gentle, loving god, one able to tame even the fiercest of hearts. His followers realised they could not worship the Crown Prince without worshipping his husband. To only worship one would bring misfortune. The pair were never to be separated. Praying to one would offer love and prosperity. Praying to the other would offer protection and healing, though exactly what they each offered remains unclear.”
“I’ve never healed anyone,” Xie Lian frowned. He wasn’t allowed to interfere enough to do something like that.
“Some of the creatures you’ve defeated may have a similar effect,” Hua Cheng pointed out as he continued to read, “With such a bountiful offering, Prince Xie Lian’s believers soon grew in numbers. These dolls are often sat atop makeshift shrines within a follower’s home, that they may show their faith at all times.”
“That’s…” It was a lot. In fact, it was a little overwhelming. Xie Lian had gone from loved to quickly hated. He’d spent so many centuries of his life accepting the knowledge that he was hated, accepting that he may never have any followers. It would’ve been fine to never be a god again. It would’ve been fine to simply roam the world trying to survive and make up for all the wrong he’d done. He never expected this. He never thought that he would have any followers beyond Hua Cheng. And that was fine; it really was. There wasn’t a follower more devoted than his husband. Not only did he have followers now, but he also had temples. They were all over the place. And the thing he loved most about them was that it was never solely about him. The murals depicted Hua Cheng as well. His believers followed them both. Together. And that was what he wanted. He wanted them to show him that he wasn’t a monster. But those dolls meant the devotion ran even deeper than he’d imagined. There were people with those things in their homes. Some people had this adorable little symbol of the pair of them. Maybe they prayed to them sometimes. Xie Lian didn’t know. He’d visited temples but not homes. He didn’t know that his influence had grown so strong. He didn’t know that people cared this much.
“It’s good, right?” Hua Cheng gently squeezed his hand, “You look upset.”
Tears filled his eyes as he stared down at the sweet little dolls holding each other’s hands. His lip quivered as he took in the intricate detailing on Hua Cheng’s little outfit: the butterflies, the chains, the perfectly fitted eyepatch. Xie Lian’s figure had his straw hat on its back and a subtle smile on its lips. It looked happy. They both looked so happy. Things had changed so much; he just never knew it could make him feel this way.
Xie Lian sniffled and wiped away his tears with his free hand, “No, I’m… I’m so lucky… to have followers who care this deeply. For both of us.”
“Yours is very cute,” Hua Cheng kissed his cheek. He pulled Xie Lian into his arms and hugged him tight to his chest, “Maybe we could get a pair to put in the manor.”
Xie Lian rested his head on Hua Cheng’s shoulder, “That sounds lovely.”
He couldn’t think of anything better. In those moments when Hua Cheng was forced away, it would be nice to have a tiny little version of him, to have something that showed they were forever bound to each other.
“I love you,” Hua Cheng whispered and pressed a kiss atop his head.
“I love you,” Xie Lian looked up at him with a fond smile. He was more sure of nothing in the world than those words. It had never faded, not after all those centuries. He’d become more familiar with Hua Cheng. He’d learned all his little quirks, but he was just as in love as ever—maybe even more.
“And I’m very proud of you,” Hua Cheng rested their heads together. He delicately cupped Xie Lian’s face in his hand, “You were always worth this and so much more. It just took the world a long time to realise it.”
Xie Lian still wasn’t used to that kind of sentiment. He’d kept away from this side of things. It was easier and safer to not think about how many followers he actually had. It was easier to tell himself to stay humble, to not allow himself to hope for more. This was so much more than he’d ever imagined. And he was able to share it with the man he loved. It wasn’t his success. It was theirs. Leaning closer, Xie Lian pressed their lips together. He’d only wanted to kiss him since he saw that display. It was just a reminder that he couldn’t have done all this without him, that maybe he’d have been successful, but not like this. And even if he had, it wouldn’t have brought him half as much happiness. Hua Cheng’s smile made Xie Lian’s heart flutter as he shifted onto his toes, following his lips. He just wanted the moment to last for a little longer.
Hua Cheng took Xie Lian’s lip between his own for a moment, eventually pulling away enough to ask, “What was that for?”
“No reason,” Xie Lian smiled shyly. His hand brushed up and down Hua Cheng’s back, enjoying the feel of him so close, “Thank you for bringing me here. I didn’t know I needed this.”
“We haven’t seen everything yet,” Hua Cheng grinned. He quickly kissed the tip of Xie Lian’s nose before untangling them. He took Xie Lian’s hand and walked him to the last section of the room.
Xie Lian froze when he saw it. It was a portrait of him. The style was a little more modern than he’d seen in any of his temples. This was something new. It looked more like an artist trying to create what they believed Xie Lian would look like. The thing was… it was good. It was really, really good. Xie Lian actually felt a little self-conscious looking at it. He wasn’t nearly disguised enough with this on display. He tugged the neck of his sweater up, hiding the bottom half of his face in it as he said, “How did they get it so right?”
He hadn’t made himself known to people in a very long time. The pictures of him on murals and other such depictions were guesses. Xie Lian allowed them to be somewhat vague with his appearance. He didn’t care too much what people thought he looked like. But this was almost perfect. It was odd for them to make such a close match to his face without any help.
“I didn’t expect them to do such a good job,” Hua Cheng murmured. He glanced over, and Xie Lian stared him down, “What?”
He should’ve known, really. It made perfect sense for Hua Cheng to have some hand in this, even if only the smallest amount, “What did you do?”
“Nothing,” Xie Lian raised an eyebrow at him, and Hua Cheng laughed, “I didn’t do anything, I swear! I just gave the artist in charge of this some dreams to inspire them. I didn’t expect it to work so well, though.”
Xie Lian snickered, “You’re ridiculous.”
“If they’re going to put a picture of you in here, the least they could do is get it right,” Hua Cheng pointed out.
“And they did. They got it really right,” Xie Lian laughed, “We should get out of here before someone thinks I’m a reincarnation or something.”
Hua Cheng sighed dramatically, “Fine, but you can’t deny it was worth it.”
“It was,” Xie Lian hummed happily as he looked around the room dedicated to his life and love, “I wouldn’t change a thing.”