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Quan Yizhen closed the door behind him and removed several dishes and cups from a table that he replaced with a wooden box and a leather pouch. The latter, he placed with a lot of care, as if afraid of breaking it—or as if he feared disturbing whatever was inside, which was actually the case. Although it wasn’t a whatever; it was a whoever. More specifically, it was the fragments of Yin Yu’s, his shixiong’s, soul, which he had kept safe with him ever since the former heavenly emperor had been defeated.
Quan Yizhen’s mouth twisted as he remembered the man. His deception had run deep and he had made a fool out of everyone. Luckily he had been defeated and Quan Yizhen was proud of the part he played on it. He was even glad about the chance to rebuild the city anew; even though most gods out there wanted to recreate their palaces as they used to be, Quan Yizhen just made, to the best of his abilities, a smaller house, closer to what Xie Lian had in Puqi village. He figured that if that was good enough for Xie Lian, then it would be enough for him—and he had been right. All he needed was a bed, a table, a couple of chairs—all of which he also made himself—and space to train, and that’s what he had made of his allocated space: a small building with a large courtyard to train to his heart’s content. As usual, he ignored what everyone else said behind his back, although nowadays it happened less and less. Today, in any case, he would not hear a peep, because he had a good reason to lock himself up in his house.
The wooden box contained a scroll with the instructions to put Yin Yu’s soul back together. Quan Yizhen had thought he would have to wait until Crimson Rain Sought Flower came back to get it, and this was one of those rare moments where he had been willing to be patient, but he had received this copy from Xie Lian during his latest visit, which had been earlier that morning. Now more than ever, Quan Yizhen hadn’t known how to thank him, especially since he still didn’t accept gold bars.
“Just your success will be enough,” Xie Lian had said as they parted. “I’ve also grown to appreciate your shixiong as a friend.”
It made him happy to know that Yin Yu was appreciated by worthy people—and he now had even more incentive to do this right..
The martial god grabbed it with both hands, closed his eyes while taking a deep breath, and unrolled it. He opened an eye and exhaled in relief when he saw that the scroll didn’t contain the complicated instructions he feared. It had mostly illustrations and thoroughly labeled diagrams and concise explanations that were easy to follow.
Hope shone bright in his heart.
“I can do this!” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands, and he began to work.
Quan Yizhen didn’t know how long it took him, only vaguely aware of the light outside fluctuating several times as day transitioned into night and then to the next day, and he only fell asleep once, when he finished the spiritual energy he was weaving, which would heal the cracks between the fragments of Yin Yu’s soul once he put them inside. The martial god often dreamed of his shixiong, but this would be the first time Yin Yu’s face appeared in his mind’s eye so clearly that Quan Yizhen could see the wrinkles of his brow when he frowned.
When Quan Yizhen opened his eyes again, it was well into the evening. His head was thrown back with his neck bent over the back of the seat, his arms folded against his chest, and his feet resting on the chair on the other side of the table. It took him a moment to remember what was going on. His first thought was that his mouth was dry and the second, that he was hungry. Slowly, he raised his head and blinked, trying to decide what to have for breakfast, when a brightness coming from the table in front of him his face, reminding him of his current mission.
“Shixiong!” he exclaimed as he jumped to his feet, chasing away his thirst, hunger, and the discomfort on his neck with a blast of spiritual power—his right as a god—barely aware of the noise made by the chair when it hit the floor and broke into pieces. But that was much less important than the miracle happening in front of him. The miracle he had helped happen. “Shixiong, how do you feel?” he asked, leaning over the ghost fire and stopping his index finger right before it came in contact with Yin Yu, no matter how strong his urge to poke him was. “Shixiong?”
Despite his insistence, Quan Yizhen didn’t get a verbal answer, but Yin Yu’s soul fragments were no longer scattered inside the spiritual energy net, having glued themselves back together in the shape of a ghost fire, which gave him hope. A ghost fire that emitted the weakest light that Quan Yizhen had ever seen, but it was in one piece and still absorbing the spiritual energy on the net. More hopeful than he had felt in centuries, and without taking his eyes off Yin Yu, Quan Yizhen moved to the other side of the table to sit on the surviving chair and waited.
Quan Yizhen spent the next hours forcing himself to stay still and be patient, waiting for the ghost fire to absorb the spiritual energy wrapped around it. At some point, the martial god started opening and closing his hands, alternating between them—left, right, left, right, left, right—and he bounced on the chair, leaning from one side to the other, but he managed to remain quiet and avoid urging Yin Yu to hurry.
This was important, Quan Yizhen repeated to himself. Effort and patience were the least he owed Yin Yu.
Finally, the last thread of spiritual energy disappeared into the ghost fire, and he remained floating over the table on his own. He looked stronger, even though his light remained dim.
“Shixiong?” Quan Yizhen asked again.
No answer.
Quan Yizhen frowned and scratched the back of his head.
“Do you need me to give you more spiritual energy?”
Before he did anything of the sort, though, Quan Yizhen checked the scroll again, and he got his answer when he reached the very end.
“Oh! It says here that, because you’re a ghost, staying in the heavenly realm would cause your recovery to last longer.” He raised his eyes from the scroll and fixed them on Yin Yu. “This means that we must get you to your house in Ghost City. You should get better there, right?”
Full of determination, Quan Yizhen got up to prepare an incursion to the aforementioned Ghost City, thinking nothing of the shiver that went through the ghost fire. Perhaps it had been just a trick of the light coming through the window.
At the same moment, though, he realized that living exclusively with what he needed meant that he might not have what he needed to safely transport a ghost fire, and a rather weak one at that. For a second, he entertained the idea of putting Yin Yu inside the wooden box in which he brought the scroll, but it was too small. Groaning, he folded his arms.
“I’ll have to ask for something to carry you,” he said. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
Quan Yizhen began to walk toward the door—only to come back and close all the windows, just in case. Soon, only the faint light coming from the ghost fire on the table illuminated the room.
“I’ll come back soon, shixiong,” Quan Yizhen murmured once he was satisfied with the security measures, before heading out.
The other gods from both the Upper and Middle Courts—which still existed despite the current lack of an Emperor—were used to seeing Quan Yizhen running around without any obvious destination. Whispers about him, wondering about his business, hung in the air as he passed by. He heard them and ignored them, as usual. None of them were right, after all. They had no way to be, and, as long as they didn’t compromise Yin Yu’s safety, Quan Yizhen didn’t care about them.
Only a few weeks ago, Quan Yizhen would have gone to Ling Wen’s palace and ask for suggestions, but now she was in jail, and that limited his options to none. Just to make sure he went through the mental list of the gods he was more or less acquainted with. Ming Guang? Quan Yizhen didn’t even know if that particular general was in the heavenly capital that day. Xuan Zhen? Nan Yang? They would surely start arguing about nothing and get distracted from Quan Yizhen’s important matter. As for Xie Lian, it would take too long to go to his house and come back and Quan Yizhen had already bothered him enough. But unless he found another solution…
It was then, though, that he did. His steps took him to the palace of the god of cats, a simple place—although not as simple as Quan Yizhen’s—whose repairs had just been finished. This one god and his deputies were in the process of bringing in the cats they had been able to catch after the destruction of the previous version of the heavenly capital, along with newer ones that had been recently adopted, in small and practical wooden boxes whose interior was padded with soft carpet. For Quan Yizhen, observing the scene and coming up with an idea were the same thing.
“Hello! Excuse me!” he called with a big grin on his face and his hand waving above his head, approaching the god of cats, who was at the entrance directing the operation. “Would you sell me one of those? I can pay!”
A few moments later, Quan Yizhen was on his way back to his palace, a carrier in his hand and having given his word to feed as many stray cats he ran into in the next couple of months and tell his followers about it.
“It’s so weird that the people who are the nicest never want any money in return,” he mused as he walked into his house. To his relief, Yin Yu was still where he left him, hovering on the table and shining with the same intensity as before. Grinning, Quan Yizhen placed the carrier on the table, opened the door at the front and ushered the ghost fire in. “Come in, shixiong! It doesn’t smell, I promise. I made sure of it! It’s very comfortable too!”
Perhaps because at this stage he was too weak to fight a martial god, but hopefully because he agreed with the plan, Yin Yu floated into the carrier and Quan Yizhen closed it with a satisfying click of the latch. Next, he covered the carrier with a blanket.
“This is for your safety. Besides, I won’t have to give any explanations if others think I’m taking care of a cat.”
Since he only needed his shixiong and his fists for this adventure, satisfied with himself and proud of his planning, Quan Yizhen picked up the carrier and set off. As he had predicted, he was just the target of the usual gossip and no one asked any questions. Thus, he was free to jump down from the heavens, leaving behind the gods who were still working hard to put an appropriate roof above their heads.
“I don’t like pretending to be someone I’m not,” Quan Yizhen said once they landed on the mortal realm and he disguised his divine essence, “but we need to get into Ghost City unnoticed. Our real destination is Paradise Manor, right? If you work so closely with Crimson Rain, the least he can do is provide you with housing.”
By now, he didn’t expect an answer from the ghost fire, but it felt good telling him random things. Not the big, important things, though. Those, he wanted to tell him, looking him in the eye—as soon as Yin Yu had eyes to look into.
“I touched the ground as close as I could to Ghost City. We should be seeing the entrance at any moment now. By the way, the god of cats told me that there’s a rumor about the ghosts in Ghost City being restless since Crimson Rain’s disappearance because they’re waiting for one of them to take the first step and take over. I don’t think they will because Crimson Rain promised Xie-xiong he’d be back so he has to. Otherwise, Xie-xiong will be sad—and you too, right, shixiong? Because he’s been your boss for centuries and you would lose your house. How did you end up working for him anyway? That has to be a story— Oh! That has to be it! Do you see?”
He pulled the blanket covering the carrier on one of the corners, only enough for Yin Yu to take a peek at the line of ghosts walking ahead of them, toward the gates to Ghost City, which could already be seen in the distance. A moment later, he covered the carrier again and patted the blanket after making sure it didn’t have any creases.
“Are you comfortable, shixiong? I hope you are. We’d better keep our distance from them. I don’t want to get distracted.” Then, he chuckled. “I’m taking people’s advice now, can you tell? Not picking up fights when it’s not that part of the mission helps to finish it faster,” he recited. “It’s not as fun, but today is not about fun. I mean, it’s nice to have you back, but the point is not fun.”
Quan Yizhen felt the pride of a good student after coming up with that last part. He felt like everything would be just fine as he sped up, although still keeping his word about keeping his distance. That was how he came into Ghost City, the place where his shixiong had been secretly living for centuries, and where he was supposed to get better faster. No, where he would get better faster; hope and optimism made the world go round and Quan Yizhen was full of both.
The vitality of the marketplace and of Ghost City’s inhabitants presented a considerable challenge to Quan Yizhen’s determination to remain focused on his mission. The martial god’s first visit to that place wasn’t at all like he expected it to be. He thought Ghost City would look closer to a cemetery, with the space between the rows of tombs serving as the streets and the infamous Gambler’s Den and Paradise Manor towering over them in the back. The presence of actual buildings flanking real streets surprised him, just like the food stands with their bubbling cauldrons on the side where the proud cooks prepared their dishes. But the lack of a Ghost King in the territory didn’t stop them from doing business, since food was not the only merchandise being sold. Without a frame of reference that would tell him whether the level of activity was normal, Quan Yizhen could only compare it to the gatherings of the gods in the heavenly capital, with the same amount of gossip and bragging, only with more laughter and resentful energy floating around here.
“That should help shixiong,” he murmured as he tried not to look around, but his eyes betrayed him. His eyes, his nose, and his ears—all of them betrayed him and made him want to go explore and touch everything and maybe even buy some things.
Above all, however, the rambunctiousness of the ghosts made him want to stop and start a brawl at every corner. It seemed like it could be fun. But whenever he was about to reach out to one of those ghosts asking others for a fight, he became aware of the weight of Yin Yu’s carrier in his hand, and how he didn’t have anywhere to put it. Thus, he tightened the fist that wasn’t holding the carrier, pressed his lips, lowered his head, and kept on walking.
Being used to people talking behind his back as he passed by helped Quan Yizhen not to mind the few he heard now, especially the ones berating him for ignoring their goods. For better or worse, none of them go after him, perhaps because they had other clients to deal with. On the other hand, words such as, “Only the most depraved mortals come here as of late,” or, “He’s surely in a hurry to get to the Gambler’s Den now that Hua Chengzhu isn’t here,” and, “We should get granduncle to oversee the bets while Chengzhu gets back,” did reach his ears.
“Granduncle?” Quan Yizhen mused in a low voice. “Who’s that? Who has ever heard of such a person? If they want someone who can take charge, they should get Xie-xiong instead…”
But that was the extent of his interest in the ghosts’ opinion, so he shifted the carrier in his hand for a better hold and kept on walking, proud of himself for holding himself back instead of sharing his thoughts as they came up, like he had a tendency to do. He really was making so much progress!
And then, the ghosts stumbled on Quan Yizhen’s one nerve and they struck it with gusto.
“What d’you think that mortal’s planning to do with the ghost fire in the box?”
“No idea. Bet it in the Den? But who’d want someone so weak and stupid to let itself be caught? And in a box! Not even a lamp!”
That launched into a round of rowdy laughter.
“Those losers are only good to be eaten,” a third ghost chimed in.
“Nah,” said the second ghost. “Just walking to the casino would take more effort than what’d you get from eating that weakling.”
“So, useless on top of stupid!” said the first ghost, and they all laughed again.
In a flash, Quan Yizhen went from being amazed at the ghosts’ ability to realize Yin Yu was in the carrier to getting engulfed in blazing rage when the insults started flying. His ears rang and grew hot and he began to tremble, as though he intended to shed off his self-control. It took only a few ghostly cackles for Quan Yizhen to jump and kick the closest of the laughing ghosts.
“That’s my shixiong you’re talking about!” He grabbed the front of the ghost’s clothes to shake him with so much force a mortal’s neck would just break. But he was dead already, so who cared. “Show some respect!”
After the initial surprise, the other ghosts around didn’t stop to ask what was going on or even try to de-escalate as most mortal humans would have done. No; they went ahead and took the chance of jumping into the fight, swarming on Quan Yizhen, believing him an easy target. Unfortunately for them, even while keeping his divine nature hidden, he was strong and skillful enough to keep up with them, using only a bare minimum of spiritual energy. Quan Yizhen kicked and punched and elbowed and bit until his brute force had made half his opponents disperse, all without letting go of the carrier. They would come back as soon as they collected enough resentful energy, since Quan Yizhen had no idea regarding where they hid their bone ashes.
The other ghosts involved in the fight stared at him, their backs pressed against the walls, looking around to the crowd that had gathered to enjoy the scuffle as if asking for help or even back up. However, the peanut gallery ignored them.
“You enraged the cultivator, you deal with it,” was the most they got.
Meanwhile, Quan Yizhen kept shaking his fist at them, in specific to the next one in line to be vanquished.
“Apologize to my shixiong!” he demanded. “He’s much better than all of you put together! He may still need to grow, but he’s strong in all the real ways that matter!”
“S-sorry?” the ghost currently being threatened ventured. “Your shixiong is great and may he grow soon in power and become a Wrath?”
That was enough to appease Quan Yizhen. He raised his chin and pointed at that one ghost with a finger.
“Good. And don’t you forget it!”
Then, he turned around and kept going with firmer strides than before, still upset but unwilling to waste more time with that lot.
“Are you alright, shixiong?” he murmured, opening a corner of a blanket to take a peek. He found the ghost fire shining more brightly and the distasteful incident disappeared from his mind. “The scroll was right! Ghosts do thrive in Ghost City! You will get better faster once we’re in your house, you’ll see!”
Grinning, he skipped the rest of the way to Paradise Manor—only to be puzzled by the closed main gate.
“I didn’t expect it to be open, but… Mmm. Should I knock? Is there anyone in there to open? Does Crimson Rain even have servants? All of Jun Wu’s were clones, so maybe that’s a Calamity thing?”
He scratched the top of his head as he decided what to do and leaned his back against one of the leaves of the gate, which gave in to his weight and opened.
“Ah!” Quan Yizhen exclaimed, but he was able to regain his balance. When he did, he took a peek inside and saw what it certainly looked like a courtyard of a big house. “That was easy!”
That said, Quan Yizhen went through the gate—only to find himself on the street, with the manor behind him.
“What?”
He tried again, getting the same result, and it happened again the next twenty times. It was like someone made him turn around when he was halfway through and he never noticed.
“That’s so weird!” Quan Yizhen exclaimed, stomping in place. “Fine. Let’s try something else.”
He crouched to take impulse and jumped over the wall. Or tried—and failed. Quan Yizhen crashed against an invisible barrier and he bounced back to where he started. He tried that only twice more, even trying to open a hole in the barrier with a punch in which he used all his divine might, obtaining only a flash of light when his fist made contact. In the end, the martial god flopped on the ground to flail and scream in frustration. But only for a few seconds. When he sat up, he placed the carrier next to him and crossed his arms pouting.
“That’s not fair! I’ve come this far and I’ve never found anything like this! How am I going to help you, shixiong?” He took off the blanket. “Staying out here on the street doesn’t sound right, even if I don’t mind sleeping on the ground. I’ve done it before! Or what about renting a room in an inn? There has to be an inn close by.”
Then, Yin Yu moved. First, from side to side inside the carrier and then he squeezed through the gaps in the bars, which were thin enough to stop a cat but not a ghost fire.
“Shixiong?” Quan Yizhen asked as he followed Yin Yu’s movements, which ended with the latter hovering in front of his face. He stayed there for a second before flying fast until he disappeared around a corner. “Wait!” Quan Yizhen exclaimed, extending his arm toward that corner, although without actually following the ghost fire. He had learned his lesson and he didn’t want to impose on Yin Yu.
That didn’t mean he didn’t feel bad. He remained on the ground, hugging his legs.
“So you want to be here on your own? That’s fine. I’ll just—go back to heaven, I guess.”
However, as he said that, he noticed Yin Yu peeking around the corner. He was there, floating, as if waiting.
“Are you waiting for me?” Quan Yizhen said. The hesitant stage didn’t take long. The next second, he jumped back on his feet, his heart so full of joy that tears showed on his eyes. “I’m coming! I’m coming!”
He ran and turned around the corner, following Yin Yu, who kept flying ahead of him, but always within sight.
Yin Yu guided Quan Yizhen to what seemed to be an arbitrary section of the wall. As soon as Quan Yizhen got there, the ghost fire pressed himself against the wall. While he didn’t manage to cause any effect, it was enough for him to convey his meaning.
“Want me to push it? Alright!” Quan Yizhen said and, as soon as he did, that wall section moved revealing an entrance. “Wow!”
Despite his astonishment, Quan Yizhen wanted to ask if, this time, they’d be able to get through here, after what happened at the main gate. However, before he could say a word, Yin Yu went inside without problem. Berating himself for daring to question his shixiong after all this time, Quan Yizhen followed him, and this time, nothing made him turn around.
Quan Yizhen’s first act upon walking inside the until then impenetrable manor belonging to the Red Calamity was to close the gap on the wall with the removable panel, because even he knew that a secret door’s entire purpose was to remain secret.
“Where to now, shixiong?”
Yin Yu still wasn’t strong enough to answer verbally. He even looked dimmer than when he first came out from the carrier, which had been left forgotten at the main entrance, though he still shone brighter than when Quan Yizhen first put him together. Fortunately, he also knew every inch of the manor, so he showed Quan Yizhen the way to a building that could only be his quarters. It was rather discreet but in good taste.
“You have so many things!” Quan Yizhen said, looking around. “So many books and scrolls and paper and quills and ink!” As soon as they walked into the studio, he knocked on the sturdy-looking desk and found it, indeed, very solid. “I don’t know much about these things, but everything here looks expensive. Crimson Rain really takes good care of you. No wonder you’re friends. I’m glad.”
The ghost fire, floating over the desk and in front of Quan Yizhen’s face, shivered and, this time, the martial god was sure it hadn’t been a trick of the light.
“Not friends,” Yin Yu said, his voice strained with effort although conveying quite clearly he expected Quan Yizhen to stop speaking nonsense. “He’s my boss and I’m the employee.” He made a long pause before adding, “I appreciate your help with my soul and getting me here, but you have done everything that was in your power. From here on out, it’s all up to me. Go back to the heavens and answer your followers’s prayers.”
“I told them I would be busy and they promised to only pray during an emergency. They haven’t, so I guess they’re doing fine,” Quan Yizen replied through his pout in a low voice. “Besides, you’re a ghost fire at the moment. What if anyone comes and tries to eat you?”
“No need. Paradise Manor is unassailable. Even while Hua Chengzhu is not around, it will take a long time for the spiritual energy in the manor to deplete.”
Quan Yizhen straightened his back and stared at Yin Yu with eyes shining with determination.
“It’s my responsibility to make sure you’re safe! I didn’t start all of this to abandon you halfway through!”
A long moment of silence followed that statement, broken by Yin Yu’s groan.
“Suit yourself,” he said, sounding the weakest he had thus far. “I must rest now. Behave and keep quiet.”
After that, he didn’t speak anymore, simply making himself cozy between his writing tools and where he remained.
However, regardless of the message or the tone, Yin Yu had spoken. For the first time in so long he had lost count, Quan Yizhen had been able to hear Yin Yu’s voice. He began to cry, and right away he covered his mouth with both his hands because he didn’t want to disturb the sleeping ghost fire. Then, Quan Yizhen sat down cross-legged on the floor in the middle of the room, where he could watch over Yin Yu. He managed to keep his hiccups under control but he allowed his tears to flow freely—though wiping them before they trickled to the floor.
Just as he had from the start, Quan Yizhen strove to do his best, remaining still and silent. Unfortunately, that had never come easy to him. For a long while, his hands stayed covering his mouth because he knew he would start complaining at any time. After a while, he fell on his back and kicked the air with his legs from one side to the other.
“This is so difficult! So difficult!” he thought. “But I won’t be defeated! I can behave and stop being annoying!”
Thus, he sat back up and took a deep breath while he cracked his fingers and his neck.
“Let’s try this mediation thing,” he whispered.
Back when he was still a mortal, Quan Yizhen had tried to meditate several times, but it had never worked despite his best intentions. It didn’t help that he didn’t like it because it was one of the most boring experiences he’d ever gone through either. Actually, this would be his first attempt at it since he ascended to godhood. With no one telling him to do it, he forgot about it. But that didn’t mean he had forgotten how to do it; he’d just have to make a little effort to remember.
“Alright,” he murmured so low the word came out as a whisper, his nose scrunched as he probed his memory. “The first step is… to sit properly. What the hell is to sit properly? Why can’t I sit comfortably instead?”
Grumbling, he moved around until he was kneeling with his back straight and his hands on his knees. There. Up to a solid start.
“Next is…” Quan Yizhen blew air through his mouth to remove a lock of hair from his face. It didn’t work even after a few attempts, so he ended up doing it with his hand. “What was next? Ah! Stop thinking!”
Another deep breath went in and out of his nose slowly as he glared at the space in front of him with an intensity that threatened to set on fire any unfortunate being that dared cross in front of him. However, the more he tried to stop thinking, the more difficult it was for his mind to go blank. Contrary to popular belief, Quan Yizhen had a lot of thoughts coming and going through his head at all times. These thoughts were disorganized and, sometimes, so fast that he reached weird conclusions that made sense to him every time. It happened especially when he was in combat and Quan Yizhen had problems comprehending how that didn’t happen to everyone.
Fine, so now he got distracted thinking about how other people thought, which made meditation even more difficult. He tried for a little longer, until he felt his head about to explode. He fell onto his back sighing and feeling like a failure.
Quan Yizhen looked at Yin Yu. The ghost fire hadn’t moved, but he had to be getting stronger. He had to. The martial god stood up and went to lean over the desk, looking at Yin Yu more closely. Yes! Yin Yu was shining more now! Holding back a sigh, Quan Yizhen fished out his scroll from inside his sleeve and read the relevant section to remind himself that he should not disturb the reconstructed soul until it was ready—and then the added note that the reconstructed souls themselves were who decided when they were ready and therefore he could do nothing but wait. On one hand, it was nice that the clarifications in the scroll came as the questions came to Quan Yizhen, but on the other hand, it was tiresome having to wait with nothing to do.
Would going outside to train a little be considered misbehaving? What if he did and some other servant of Crimson Rain came in and tried to eat Yin Yu? No. He had better stay.
Since meditating didn’t work, he tried stretching—and it worked! For about half an hour. By then he had grown bored and his muscles were all warmed up and ready to move on to something more intense. Which was not going to happen. Once more, his good intentions had backfired.
Quan Yizhen turned his attention to the scrolls on the desk and found them blank. Then, he went to the shelves on the side. Those scrolls and books were not blank. They contained poems and novels and history—topics he didn’t care about much. Apparently, Yin Yu didn’t own anything related to martial arts. But he did have a chest covered in dark leather which felt soft to the touch. Soft and textured. It was so nice. He picked it up to feel it with all his ten fingers, drumming on the wood to listen to the echo bouncing inside. It was fun—except, perhaps, he shouldn’t have done that.
“Put that back!” Yin Yu exclaimed. The ghost fire left his resting place on the desk to fly all the way to Quan Yizhen’s face. The anger emanating from Yin Yu, strong and intimidating despite his current diminished form, reached Quan Yizhen. The martial god placed the box back on the shelf before removing his hands carefully once he made sure it was safe, all without taking the eyes off the small ghost fire.
“Shixiong,” Quan Yizhen began, but Yin Yu didn’t allow him to finish the word.
“Go! Just—just go!”
“I—”
The ghost fire shimmered once more, the ripples going through him faster than before, until the play of lights and shadows made the studio feel so oppressive Quan Yizhen thought it would close down on him until it crushed him to death.
It didn’t, even though such a thing could very well happen in a Calamity’s house. What happened instead was that Yin Yu let out a frustrated cry and left through the window. Quan Yizhen ran after him but he couldn’t see where the ghost fire had disappeared to.
“Shixiong?” he asked in a low voice first. “Shixiong!” he repeated, louder now. He called out a couple more times before he understood that Yin Yu was not going to answer anymore.
Quan Yizhen sat down in the courtyard in front of Yin Yu’s room with slumped shoulders, staring at the ground and thinking of everything he had done wrong. Back when he was mortal, others made him sit down to reflect on his actions, being this the first time he did it to himself. It felt appropriate. Besides, this time he understood the reason for the punishment but, even after several hours, he had no idea what he had done and, therefore, he didn’t know where to start fixing it.
If he could just make sure Yin Yu was safe…but he didn’t know where he had gone, and had limited options on where to go looking for him, since he was confined to the courtyard. As soon as Yin Yu disappeared through the window, Quan Yizhen had attempted to explore the manor, only to find that the doors were impossible to open, and all of them impervious to every punch and kick he had to give. That left him with the panel on the wall he had used to get in. When he tried it, he had no problems leaving the manor. After a few hours of searching all around Ghost City, he had returned to the Manor, dejected and lonely and, for the first time since he could remember, having failed a mission he had given himself.
That was when he had put himself in penance, staying there until he realized that, no matter how long he knelt in the courtyard, he wouldn’t be able to come up with an answer on his own. But maybe he could ask for advice. Ordinarily, he would have gone himself, but he didn’t want to leave the manor in case Yin Yu came back. Thus, he would have to use the spiritual communication array. It was lucky that he also liked the person that he wanted to talk to. He pressed his fingers to his temple and then recited the password he had been taught.
“Xie-xiong, I messed up bad.”
“What? What happened?” Xie Lian’s soft, puzzled voice came through the array.
Quan Yizhen then explained everything that had happened, everything that he had done, and every way Yin Yu had reacted ever since Quan Yizhen had put him together. Xie Lian listened patiently, just letting out a long sigh once Quan Yizhen finished his tale.
“I see,” he said.
“You do?”
“Mn. Can I speak openly, your highness?”
Quan Yizhen nodded twice with energy while making affirmative noises. It was enough for Xie Lian to understand.
“I believe that you should give your shixiong some space.”
“You mean just leave?”
“Maybe not just leave without an explanation or an apology for overstepping.”
“Overstepping…” Yes, he had been doing that. From the light of this one word, Quan Yizhen began to get a glimpse of how disrespectful he had been. He truly needed to leave. And apologize. “But—how can I leave if I haven’t apologized? And how can I apologize to my shixiong if I don’t know where he is? I don’t know his password either.”
“I’m not sure contacting him through his personal spiritual communication array at this point is a good idea anyway,” Xie Lian said. “However, there are other ways for him to see your apology once you’ve given him the space he needs?”
“Other ways?” Quan Yizhen repeated.
“That’s right,” Xie Lian continued, good-natured. “Just think a little. You can write, can’t you?”
“Yes, I can write… Oh!” Quan Yizhen added at the end, dragging the oh as the realization came.
Having no access to anywhere else in the manor, in order to get a cup of water he had to go buy it from a restaurant. The ghosts had learned to avoid giving him trouble, and the restaurant owner even told him to take the cup and the water for free. Regardless, Quan Yizhen tossed him some gold on their way out and didn't stay to hear objections.
Back in Yin Yu’s study, the martial god flopped in front of the desk and placed the cup of water next to him. He had owned a large desk, made of shiny, heavy wood in his previous palace, but he never used it—a good reason not to have kept it in the new one, in his opinion. But he saw how it could be useful if one had the right stuff to put on it, like tall piles of paper, blank and otherwise, different brushes, and those bars of solid ink, among other things.
Quan Yizhen grabbed one of those bars and stared at it with a wrinkled nose. They puzzled him. He could understand owning brushes of varying sizes, since some created thick lines and others thin lines, which combined to create nice things, like paintings, if that’s what you wanted to do. But the bars of ink? Why did you have to take extra steps if you wanted to write? That made no sense! Why couldn’t they sell it already liquid? It would be easier and a big help not messing up the proportions, which Quan Yizhen always did.
“Alright,” he murmured, his eyes moving from the cup of water to the inkstick to the inkstone. “Let’s do this.”
With that, he started grinding the ink. When he had enough, he grabbed a medium-sized brush and dipped it in the uneven mix he had created so he could start pouring his heart out on the paper. Not caring whether his characters were neat or not, or following any kind of formatting for the letter, only that his thoughts came through, he started writing.
Shixiong, I’m sorry about overstepping and not respecting your wishes. I’m just scared. I lost you enough times already and every time hurts. I understand now that even if the other ghosts in Ghost City want to eat you, you’re safe in Paradise Manor—which is why I hope you’re still here. I would kick the ass of any ghost that would try to eat you until he spits you out. No matter how long it takes me to track the dirtbag, I’d do it, I promise. But that’s not going to happen here—I have to keep telling myself that or I’m going to want to stay. I am leaving, though. Back to the heavenly realm to tell my followers that I’m done with what I needed to do and I can go back to beat monsters for them. Or fight them, if that’s what they want. I hope they do; it’s really fun. Oh! That doesn’t mean that I’m not willing to come to help if you need me. I don’t like the spiritual communication array but I just used it a while ago and it wasn’t that bad, maybe because I actually like the person I was talking to, so I will definitely answer your call. I’ll leave my password at the bottom of the letter in case of an emergency. Or if you just want to talk, which would be nice too. I hope you grow back to your normal strength soon and if you want to get in touch, you know where to find me. From now on, I will respect your rules and stay away, happy to know you are doing fine and are respected in Ghost City.
Quan Yizhen hesitated for a moment before adding the last few sentences, but he had promised he would be honest, so he went ahead and added it. Then, he wrote down his password as promised and now it was time to sign it, which posed a bit of a problem.
Once upon a time, back when he ascended as a martial god and assigned his territory, he had been given an official seal, but he never found a use for it and therefore he soon lost track of it. Yin Yu, on the other hand, was always proud of his seal before Jun Wu had had the gall to break it when he decreed Yin Yu’s exile. Quan Yizhen would have wanted to give the now fallen god his seal, but it was nowhere to be found—just like Yin Yu—and then the destruction of the Heavenly Capital happened and Quan Yizhen lost everything he owned. But he had never been attached to any of those things, and he had gotten Yin Yu back, so it was more than a fair trade.
Back to the present, this serious letter needed to end on a serious note, such as with a seal. Quan Yizhen groaned again. Writing down his name carefully would have to do. The martial god frowned and stuck the tip of his tongue out as he traced his name, and he wondered if Crimson Rain Sought Flower had given Yin Yu a seal now when he became a ghost official. If he did, that seal should be around here, on the desk. But he would not look for it. He wouldn’t. He would respect Yin Yu’s privacy and bite his own hands if he had to.
Once he finished writing his name, Quan Yizhen left the brush on the side and exhaled a long, long breath. He felt exhausted. It wasn’t normal for him to feel exhausted, but it wasn’t normal for him to rein his emotions back and give them coherent shape. He yawned and closed his eyes. Closing them for a moment should be fine, shouldn’t it? Just a second and then he’d finally leave back to the heavenly realm.
Even though for Quan Yizhen it was just a blink, when his awareness returned, he noticed there was someone else in the room with him. Even though this person didn’t seem to have ill intentions, Quan Yizhen was still surprised at not having felt them coming in. Had he really lowered his guard so much?
When he looked up, however, he was met with Yin Yu, still in the form of a ghost fire, hovering on the desk, just as he had been before he flew out the window.
Quan Yizhen jumped up to his feet, all the lingering sleepiness leaving him.
“Shixiong! I—I was supposed to be gone by the time you came back but I got sleepy. I’m sorry; I’ll go now. I wrote you a letter—”
“I know,” Yin Yu said in an even voice. “I read it. Sit down.”
Quan Yizhen stood still for a moment, stuck between his resolution of giving Yin Yu space and his promise of doing as his shixiong said. In the end, the latter won and, slowly, he went back to the chair.
“Everything is out of order,” he murmured, his eyes fixed on the desk.
“Excuse me?”
“You were supposed to read the letter after I left but you did it before, and now everything was out of order. I screwed up again.”
“You didn’t. Not this once, anyway.” The ghost fire’s light rippled for an instant, as if Yin Yu was thinking how to continue. “Listen, Yizhen, if I give you access to one of the training courtyards, would that be enough to keep you entertained? They are all well-equipped.”
Quan Yizhen’s face lit up.
“I can stay?”
“As long as you stop touching my things without permission and you let me sleep. I’ll give you money to go eat at the marketplace. Not all establishments serve human meat; I’ll tell you which ones,” he added before Quan Yizhen could protest.
Quan Yizhen protested anyway.
“You don’t have to give me money. I have more than enough. But I don’t want to eat humans, so please, tell me where I can go.”
“Then we’ll do that,” Yin Yu said, settling the matter. “First of all, though, you have to clean the calligraphy tools you used. I’ll tell you how.”
Quan Yizhen scratched the back of his head as he laughed.
“Right. Don’t worry! I’ll do my best!”
“I know you will.” Some time later, as Quan Yizhen was hard at work cleaning the inkstone, Yin Yu asked, “Who were you talking to in the spiritual communication array?”
“Xie Lian.”
The light coming from Yin Yu flickered again.
“Please, refer to him as His Highness the Crown Prince while you are in Hua Chengzhu’s territory.”
Quan Yizhen’s first impulse was to protest that Xie Lian himself had insisted on being called by his name, but he managed to stop the words before they left his mouth.
“Alright.”
“Thank you. I have another question: how did you learn how to put the fragments of my soul together?”
“Xie—His Highness the Crown Prince gave me a scroll with the instructions. He said he had come to make two copies, one for me and one for Lang Qianqiu. Or more for the mortal child Lang Qianqiu is looking after.”
“I see. Now it makes sense why I found books out of place in the library. No one else would have been able to get in here. That also explains why the ghosts in the city are so well-behaved even without Hua Chengzhu here. His Highness must have pacified them.”
“Well-behaved? They wanted to eat you!”
“That’s expected. Same as the brawls. Besides, you protected me, didn’t you?”
Quan Yizhen grinned.
“I did!”
“And you, and I quote: ‘would kick the ass of any ghost who tried to eat me until he spits me out, no matter how long it takes you to track the dirtbag.’ That’s it, isn’t it? Did I get it right?”
Quan Yizhen left the now clean inkstone on the desk and checked his letter.
“Yes! That’s what I wrote! You memorized it?”
“I just have a good memory.”
But no words would ever abate how flattered Quan Yizhen felt right now. Or how happy, in general.
“There! I think it’s all clean now.”
“Good. Put everything back where it was and I’ll show you the training courtyard.”
Feeling so happy he was almost gliding, Quan Yizhen followed Yin Yu, and decided to make the most out of this second chance. This time, he would look after his shixiong the right way, and he would make him proud.