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Hua Cheng’s reason for living had always been clear. Since the moment he fell and laid eyes upon Taizi Dianxia, his path had been laid. To worship and protect Him, or die trying. Which Hua Cheng did. Thrice.
But all of that was in the past. Now he was back from the gate to death. All of his dreams had been fulfilled, and more. At least, that’s what he thought in the beginning.
Hua Cheng spent more time helping Heaven rebuild after their war with Jun Wu. While the Ghost King had no obligation to assist, His Highness always looked disappointed after coming home. So much had been destroyed, and many were injured. Hua Cheng had amassed quite a fortune over the centuries, and knew who would give the best materials cheapest.
Through all this, Hua Cheng was forced to cooperate with His old friends. Any other god wouldn’t have been much of an issue. However, Feng Xin was prone to seeking Hua Cheng out to pick a fight. Day after day, Hua Cheng engaged in meaningless combat. It was rare he found someone entertaining to fight. Typically, they would run and admit defeat, or maybe get a blow or two in. Against Feng Xin? Sure, they weren’t evenly matched, but it was close enough.
At first, Hua Cheng entertained him simply to fight.
“Hua Cheng,” Feng Xin said. It was a demand, not a call.
“Yes, Feng Xin?”
“Would you,” Feng Xin paused, a falter in his voice that betrayed his nerves, “spar with me?”
Hua Cheng grinned. “Of course. Gege, care to watch us?”
Feng Xin’s expression hardened at the invitation. What, was he afraid of losing in front of Xie Lian? Bah, as if. Feng Xin was skilled. Hua Cheng surely was better than him, but Feng Xin would put up a good fight.
Before long, Hua Cheng was talking with Feng Xin in between sparring, blows turned soft, smiles and laughter turned warm. His stomach turned when thinking about fighting him — was Hua Cheng, Crimson Rain Sought Flower, afraid? No, fear sat deeper in his gut, this was floating at the surface.
It brought back vague, ancient, memories. Of the smell of incense, of the hard floor against his knees. Of desperation, of tears shed. Of soft white flowers and rough stones, of the rain, of hoping and praying and falling.
…Of looking at Taizi Dianxia.
But how Hua Cheng felt for Him, it was different. It was ingrained into his body, his spirit, his thoughts. It was a love deep seated within his bones, one that had kept his heart beating. It coursed through him along his meridians, intertwined with his everything. It flicked along his nerves like fire, twisting his tongue and setting him alight. It was a pleasant burn at first. Then it started to hurt, searing layers of flesh and bone. Burrowing its way through love already there, interlacing itself. If his love for Him was ribbon, this was fire laced along the edges. But his ashes were with the one he loved, so he would only be ignited and never burn out.
This feeling, one he was too afraid to name, sank deeper. Being dragged down by one he could label — guilt.
Why did he have to be so selfish? Hua Cheng had only just confessed to His Highness. He had obtained the brightest star in the sky, and now he found another. But each star glowed brighter and brighter each day, neither dimming nor overpowering the other.
Not telling Him would be a betrayal of His trust. Hua Cheng wanted so so badly to confess his sins, but what if His Highness let him? But if He found out later, what would Hua Cheng do? The guilt built and built until he burst.
“Dianxia, I apologize. This lowly believer is not worthy of your love.” Hua Cheng knelt before his god.
“San Lang? What’s wrong?” Xie Lian’s brow furrowed in confusion. He reached to place a hand on his San Lang’s head, but Hua Cheng flinched away before he could.
“I have been ungrateful and greedy. I took your affection for granted. I cherish your love, and yet I long for another,” Hua Cheng’s voice broke, “Dianxia, I love you. I always will. But-” He trailed off. “I’m in love with Feng Xin.” Hua Cheng spat the words out upon the ground, leaving them to be shattered, trampled, dirtied, destroyed. It was what he deserved, after all.
But Xie Lian did no such thing. He took these glass words, and held them up to the light, letting it refract and shimmer with the sun’s precious rays shining through.
“Oh, San Lang…” The words were breathed out, barely audible. A slight smile played on Xie Lian’s lips. “San Lang, don’t feel guilty. You are worthy of love. I love you, and I always will.” He paused, “I would be lying if I said I don’t have feelings for Feng Xin as well. ”
Hua Cheng’s eye snapped up, confusion laid plain on his face.
“San Lang, if it’s alright with you, I’ve been meaning to…ask Feng Xin out. I wanted to get your consent first but why don’t we do that…together?” Xie Lian said hesitantly. At Hua Cheng’s pause, He lifted His hands defensively in the air. “I mean, if you’re all right with it of course. I didn’t want to make any assumptions but-”
“No, I- Yes. Yes. I would like that very much.” Hua Cheng interrupted. A slight smile broke Xie Lian’s anxious expression.
Xie Lian pressed a kiss to Hua Cheng’s forehead. He cupped the ghost’s face in his hands, lifting his chin.
“Alright then, I’ll contact him tomorrow.” Xie Lian brushed away the stray tears Hua Cheng hadn’t even noticed falling.
The flames were no longer eating him up. They cooled to embers, still burning, but no longer painful. Ones that licked at the edges of ribbons, but never ate them up. It was a soft warmth, a comfortable one.
Perhaps it was pleasant to love Feng Xin.