Chapter Text
Splat.
Splat.
Splat.
Water slowly dripped in through the crack in the cave entrance, the stone shattered by the tremendous force Xie Lian had thrown him with. Xie Lian… His Xianle had finally defeated him.
Jun Wu had imagined this moment several times of course—though he had not learned to fear it—and with increasing frequency since he had heard the words Crimson Rain Sought Flower uttered on Xianle’s lips. In his imagination his defeat had been different every time but it always brought the same all consuming rage, bubbling black and hot and frothing through his blood, burning up his throat, until he wanted to scream it away.
But now… now that the moment was really upon him he wasn’t angry, not truly.
Instead, an emotion he couldn’t describe was washing through him, soothing the aches in his bones and tugging on his eyelids. A sensation like cool wind blowing over his heart.
He was tired.
He could hear the two idiot Martial Gods of the South yelling and Xie Lian crying something faintly in the background, but he did not have the presence of mind, nor care, to pay any more attention.
The rain continued to pour, rolling off the bamboo hat to puddle around him and drenching Mei Nianqing where he crouched. There was an expression on his face that was hard to decipher but that Jun Wu would probably call a mix between sorrow (not pity but sorrow) and relief. His old, former, friend opened his mouth as though to speak and then closed it.
Jun Wu looked away, he didn’t want to know what Mei Nianqing had to say anymore, not when what he had already said—'I just really miss His Old Highness’—rattled around in his head.
Eyes widening he looked down with a frown as Zhuxin was slowly pulled from his chest, flesh squelching. Mei Nianqing winced but removed the black sword completely, the dark blade roiling with evil energy as he lay it gently beside him. “Your Highness…” Mei Nianqing began and then stopped at a harsh look from Jun Wu. Hesitantly, he continued, “My Lord, you can rest now, just for a little bit, it’s over.”
Jun Wu did not bother to respond to Mei Nianqing with words of his own.
But when Mei Nianqing looked away in the direction of Xianle, Jun Wu let out a breath.
And closed his eyes.
##
“My Lord.”
Jun Wu shook himself from his thoughts, a scowl twisting his lips like it had since he had been sealed under this mountain.
Seperated from the heavens under piles of sky and dirt and rock, the power of the seal keeping him there pressing him down until he felt like he had to physically bow under the weight. Jun Wu had never had so much time to think, to ponder, to sit with his own mind.
He hated it.
Hated it with so much venom it felt like his own hatred might just kill him should it last any longer or become any stronger. With no kiln to purge it from him, no ghost on Yinian bridge, Jun Wu was forced to do what regular people did when faced with emotions they didn’t like. Deal with it. It tasted sour.
But then again, there was something that occasionally drew him from his thoughts. Or, rather, someone, and sometimes he hated the distraction even more.
“My Lord,” the distraction repeated, standing there in his long purple robes.
“Get lost.” Jun Wu growled, and he wondered if Mei Nianqing could hear that his voice was not as biting as he wished it to be. “I don’t want to see you.”
“You say that every time.” Mei Nianqing very clearly did not ‘get lost’, “but you’ve never tried to make me leave.”
Jun Wu got to his feet where he had been sitting cross legged against the wall, feeling like he had to be standing when he was talking to his former friend. Feeling like he had to look down at him or the floor would threaten to tilt underneath him.
He spat, “I distinctly remember trying to strangle you the first time you tried to visit me.”
Mei Nianqing mumbled something under his breath and Jun Wu narrowed his eyes at him. “What?” He demanded.
If he didn’t know better he would have thought Mei Nianqing was blushing as the guoshi averted his gaze, “I said… that wouldn’t be the first time.”
Jun Wu snorted a laugh but the time for being non confrontational was up, Mei Nianqing had run out his patience again. So, like always, he asked, “what do you want?”
And Mei Nianqing, like always, sighed. “Nothing. Nothing you can give.”
“Liar. Leave until you can find me an actual answer.”
The faces hurt.
##
Mei Nianqing was a liar, but not in answering that question Jun Wu so loved to ask.
Instead he was a liar to himself.
As the weeks turned to months, as the months turned to years, as the leaves greened and browned and fell and grew again, Mei Nianqing continued to lie to himself. He would visit His Highness the Crown Prince of Wuyong whenever he mustered the courage, whenever he could look his guilt in the eyes and not falter. Which, admittedly, were days far and few between. Mei Nianqing had always been a coward.
He had always been the one to run when things got tough. He had promised to stay with His Highness until the end but upon seeing his friends as small screaming faces on Jun Wu’s face he had been overcome with disgust. He had fled. It took him until Jun Wu was defeated to realize he never hated him for the lives he had taken. Mei Nianqing mourned his friends yes, every day. He made empty shells of them so that he could pretend like they were still with them, like Jun Wu had not tossed them into Mount Tonglu to appease the volcanic spirit. But he didn’t hate Jun Wu for killing them and he could not explain why.
Perhaps it was because he had seen the tears Jun Wu had shed for them upon seeing his reflection in his sword for the first time; perhaps it was because he had chosen to spare Mei Nianqing that same day; perhaps it was because he had seen the look in his eyes and heard how broken he was in his voice when he asked, ‘will you leave me to?’
Perhaps, but Mei Nianqing didn’t particularly care why. He only knew that he wanted to make up for his own part in creating the Emporer that Jun Wu had become even though he knew it wasn’t his fault. Jun Wu’s actions were his own, he had hurt and traumatized people, Xie Lian especially, but in his heart Jun Wu was still the young Highness, the young Crown Prince of a kingdom that loved him when he was strong and abandoned him when he was weak. Mei Nianqing had hated Wuyong for how they had treated him, had lain awake agonized by it.
Then he had done the same thing.
He didn’t hate Jun Wu for what he had done but he was beginning to hate himself and that made him feel like there was something underneath his skin that he needed to itch, itch, away.
Sitting at the small table he glanced back down at his cards fingers dancing over his spread as he considered his next move. It said something about how much this meant to him, and how much it was distracting him, that he wasn’t solely focused on the game in front of him. He had tried to fashion new shells to play with but they were subpar and rarely could beat him in a game. However, now, when he glanced down at the hands that had already been played and tallied the score in his head he realized, that, inexplicably, he was losing!
He sighed and folded, throwing the cards down onto the table.
When the shells looked up at him, confusion in their eyes, he wearily waved a hand. “Ignore me.”
He needed to do something about this restlessness.
And that was how he found himself, once more standing underneath the mountain seal and staring wordlessly at His Highness.
This time, however, His Highness was raging. “GET LOST!” He roared, throwing his arm to the side as he tossed a huge rock at the wall. It hit and splintered with a loud crash, fragmenting as it flung back smaller pieces and debris at the pair. But Jun Wu wasn’t yelling at Mei Nianqing. He was clawing at his face, nails leaving bloody streaks down his cheeks as he tore open the skin. The three faces, the faces of Mei Nianqing’s friends, screamed and screamed and Jun Wu roared, swearing and threatening telling them to be silent to: “STOP, JUST STOP!”
Mei Nianqing was frozen with horror. Terror ratcheting up his spine and filled his limbs until he was shaking.
Splat.
Droplets of crimson blood fell to the floor one after the other with a soft patter.
Startled to action Mei Nianqing rushed forward not knowing what he was doing just that he needed to do something. He couldn’t stand there watching Jun Wu take himself apart and not do anything about it.
“Your Highness!” He just managed to touch, barely graze, Jun Wu’s arm as he tried to grab him and stop him from hurting himself anymore than he already had when Jun Wu screamed “DON’T TOUCH ME!” He grabbed Mei Nianqing and practically tossed his arm away, pushing him back in the process from his sheer strength. It took everything in Mei Nianqing not to flinch back. To seem like he wasn’t afraid of him.
On the inside there was only fear. But fear for him, not of him.
“AND DON’T CALL ME THAT!’
Mei Nianqing took a slow small step back, like dealing with a wild animal. He couldn’t help it. The look in Jun Wu’s eyes was the same as when Mei Nianqing had confronted him about the deaths of his friends. A wild crazed look that spoke of unspeakable torment.
“HA-HA-HA-HA” Jun Wu began to laugh, but in a fake artificial way, where he enunciated each syllable as he grabbed his head. “HA-HA-HA, YOU’RE JUST LIKE THEM! YOU’RE JUST LIKE THEM!”
Mei Nianqing wasn’t sure if Jun Wu was speaking to him, himself, or his friends but then Jun Wu suddenly struck himself, falling over with the force. More blood joined the droplets already staining the floor.
Once more Mei Nianqing couldn’t help himself, “Your Highness! My Lord! Jun Wu! Stop, please stop!”
“Why?” Jun Wu snarled, looking up at him with bloodshot eyes. The three faces on his own were scrunched up with pain and terror, wailing and crying with no real words. “Why does it concern you?” He shot to his feet without warning clawing at his face again and Mei Nianqing wanted to grab him by the wrists, hold him back, beg him to stop. He couldn’t bear to watch but he couldn’t bear to look away. “Why do you keep coming just to stand there all proper like nothing ever happened at all!!”
“Your Highness—”
“I SAID STOP!”
So Mei Nianqing did.
With a ragged breath Jun Wu continued, “you want to pretend like you never left, don’t you? Pretend like you were never a failure! Cause that’s what you are,” he spat, “nothing but a failure. You couldn’t be my friend, you couldn’t save those disgraces we called friends, you couldn’t save Wuyong, you couldn’t be a guoshi to Xianle, you’re nothing but a disgusting worthless disgrace!”
In the silence there was only breathing.
Mei Nianqing had been buzzing with nervous energy the entire time, a faint nausea coloring his mind and churning in his stomach. With those words it was all blasted away.
##
Jun Wu sat in silence and darkness, alone, unmoving, forcing himself not to shiver in the cold damp air.
No. He grit his teeth. Not alone.
On his face three small faces, all features intact, he knew, even if he could not see them, opened and clothed their mouths silently. He felt it as his face stretched and pulled accommodating the motions of those faces, his so-called friends. He wanted to vomit.
Instead, he locked his jaw and dug his hands into the floor, trying to wish them away through sheer voice of will. Like if he just ignored them, if he just dug his fingers into the rock a little harder, they would dissipate.
What would it take?
WHAT WOULD IT TAKE?!
No, no, I can’t think about them, Jun Wu reminded himself with a bitter laugh, not them, not them. So what?
So what to think about… he needed his mind to wander so he forced it to. He forced himself to think about his time as Emperor, forced himself to imagine he was walking down the Divine Avenue, imagine he was walking past the golden palaces, listening to the bell ring a sweet pleasant toll. As he pictured this existence for himself he felt his body begin to relax, the tension leak away. He let out a breath and a slow smile spread onto his lips.
He followed the fantasy.
In his fantasy he was clad in his pristine white robes with his crying-smiling mask strapped to the side of his face and a small protection talisman was clasped in his left fist. In his fantasy he was Emperor Jun Wu and also the White Clothed Calamity and also the Crown Prince of Wuyong and every god he passed—faceless bodies affecting features of gods current and past—waved and smiled and exchanged pleasentries. They didn’t just worship him as the emperor just fear him as the supreme ghost king or just love him as a crown prince.
In his fantasy he reached his palace and the doors swung open without effort. But as he passed down the hallway, shoes clacking through the magnificent hall, he saw someone standing next to his throne. They stood there like they were meant to be there, like beside his throne was a spot carved out for them. A well used, well loved, place. The place of a confidant, a friend… something else maybe. He couldn’t see the persons expression but he could of sworn they were either smiling at him, eyes sparkling with mirth and hapiness, or frowning, eyes hardened with dissapointment and hatred.
The person wore a small sparkling circlet over his brow, silver (not gold, never gold), and long billowing robes with expansive sleeps. Purple robes.
He growled low in his throat, an animilistic sound, and wrenched himself from his imaginings. Mei Nianqing invaded even his unguarded thoughts now?!
“Help…” A voice squealed.
Jun Wu’s head jerked up.
“Help…” A voice lower pitched then the first joined in.
“Don’t…”
And Jun Wu screamed.
##
Breathing heavily, chest heaving, Jun Wu knew he had lost control of himself. He wasn’t supposed to do this, he wasn’t supposed to say any of this.
Mei Nianqing wasn’t supposed to know how much he had hurt him.
That very man was standing there, unmoving, lips slightly parted like there were words loaded up that he would not yet let fall from his tongue. There was something in his eyes too akin to pity for Jun Wu’s liking.
If he was true to himself he wanted to look away, he wanted to collapse, wanted to stop holding himself up, he wanted to close his eyes.
He was exhausted.
Stealing himself, drawing in a deep breath, he prepared to shout another, ‘get lost!’ but Mei Nianqing spoke first.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Jun Wu flinched back, “stop don’t—”
“I’m not just saying that too appease you… my lord. You’re right when you say all of that, I’ve been pretending I’m— I am a coward and I’ve been pretending and I’m… sorry.” He drew in a shaking breath, “I know that changes nothing, I know, but I’m sorry that I left you, I’m sorry that I abandoned you. I know you didn’t need me, you’ve never needed me… but maybe you wanted me to do more than stay? To support you? And I failed… I am a failure, you’re right.”
The voices stopped. The faces grew silent.
But Mei Nianqing continued, not giving Jun Wu a chance to form a retort. “You will always be His Highness to me not because I don’t want to see the Jun Wu before me—” Jun Wu’s fists clenched tighter in his lap at hearing his own words echoed back at him, “—but because you never stopped being that person to me. The Crown Prince at the height of his popularity and the supreme ghost king mired in resentment will always be His Highness to me.”
Silence.
And still Jun Wu said nothing.
He needed to be silent. Because he didn’t trust what words might come out of his mouth if he let them.
Something inside of Jun Wu was cracking open and he didn’t want to let it.
But Mei Nianqing was already nearing the exit, back turned. “I’m sorry; I won’t visit anymore.”
He took a step, nearly passing over the threshold. Something like panic clawed up Jun Wu’s throat. “Coward.”
Mei Nianqing stopped turning around again so that he was facing Jun Wu. “What?—”
“Coward. You are a coward.”
Mei Nianqing blinked. Jun Wu thought Mei Nianqing might be shaking. “I don’t understand.”
“Don’t go.”
Jun Wu’s mouth betrayed him.
“Don’t go.”
And Mei Nianqing didn’t.
Jun Wu remembered that sensation he had felt before—that one like the wind. And he thought he might be closer to naming it.