Archive of Our Own

(This canon divergence starts in chapter 8 (Shortened Distance, Adrift in Sandstorms)/web serialization chapters 20-23. The text bold is taken directly from the novel and doesn’t belong to me. Some of the events repeat but are slightly altered due to the divergence.)

Nan Feng and Fu Yao were busy trying to reconnect with the communication array, and everyone else was occupied checking for wounds on their bodies. The boy Tian Sheng was anxiously holding tightly onto old man Zheng and didn’t notice a wine-red scorpion-snake soundlessly climbing up his spine, curling near the neck, and opening its mouth. However, the fangs were not aiming at Tian Sheng’s neck but at San Lang’s arm right next to it!

The snake leaned back, then pounced!

Although Xie Lian did react with godlike speed, San Lang managed to move even faster than the god did. Before Xie Lian could snatch the snake with his hand, the red-clad youth already sprung in front of him, catching the outstretched limb and blocking the viper with his own body.

“San Lang!” Xie Lian yelped, half-impressed for getting outrun, half-worried that the scorpion-snake might have attacked his companion.

“Gege!” it was Tian Sheng calling out, his expression terrified.

Xie Lian took a step away to see what had happened. The snake was hanging at San Lang’s side, both its fangs and the tail sunken deep into San Lang’s robes that were slowly changing their colour from crimson to a deep shade of mahogany, wet with blood seeping from the wounds.

Everyone was looking at the viper sucking the life force out of the young man, but none dared move. Xie Lian’s heart gave out a desperate guilty pang—it was his fault for not reacting faster. He wouldn’t mind getting stung at all, since he knew for a fact that he couldn’t either die or feel pain. He wasn’t so sure about San Lang though.

“San Lang?” he asked tentatively. He almost added a “how are you?” but bit his tongue after he realized that the question would be utterly silly.

The youth, as laid-back and nonchalant as ever, clicked his tongue with an annoyed “tsk” and ripped the viper off his side. He twirled its head with his fingers and threw it aside, making the merchants standing nearby scurry away with frightened gasps. The scorpion-snake fell on the sand with a dull thud and didn’t move afterwards. It was either knocked out or, more likely, dead. San Lang must have strangled it while he was prying it off his body.

“San Lang, I’m so sorry, you got bitten because of me!” Xie Lian lamented, his eyes fixed on the dark spot on San Lang’s robes.

“That’s fine, gege, I’m fi-”

The youth didn’t manage to finish what he had wanted to say. The next moment flew by before Xie Lian’s eyes, almost in slow motion. San Lang’s eyes rolled back slightly, and his lips parted to take a weak breath. The jade-pale skin immediately drained of its glow and turned a dull shade of grey. San Lang’s knees buckled and, with a sway of his crooked ponytail, he started falling to the side, his body lax and senseless.

Xie Lian launched forward to catch the passed-out youth in his arms. In the corner of his vision, he could see Nan Feng’s frown deepen and Fu Yao’s eyes roll.

“You see? You only cause unnecessary trouble when you barge into every situation, trying to act the hero!” the latter hissed and crossed his arms.

Xie Lian didn’t really need a reminder to feel guilty, so he decided to ignore the junior official’s disposition. His bad luck had apparently spread onto San Lang, who now not only got bitten but stung as well, and who knows just how much poison the snake managed to inject him with. He cupped San Lang’s cheek and tapped it lightly, trying to call to him to no avail.

The merchants surrounding them were watching in silence, probably holding a mental funeral rite for the red-clad man.

Tian Sheng was first to intervene and called to Nan Feng, “Gege, do you have another pill?”

Everyone, including Xie Lian, turned to the boy who broke the silence. The elders nodded and followed with a muttered, “Yes, the pill,” and “Give him a pill too”. Fu Yao cocked his brow, his expression painted with doubt over whether the youth was worth wasting the precious medicine, his disdain towards San Lang ever so obvious.

Nan Feng began rummaging through his satchel, his frown not fading even  slightly. It seemed he only complied with Tian Sheng’s request to save himself some face. His suspicions about San Lang didn’t weaken just because the latter seemed to be susceptible to the poison. Xie Lian didn’t really feel like wasting his time pondering about Nan Feng’s conflicted feelings and quietly thanked his companion when he threw him the vial of pills. Inwardly, he prayed that the two heavenly officials wouldn’t use this new knowledge maliciously against San Lang while trying to investigate his identity.

Carefully, he slipped the pill into the red-clad youth’s mouth and gently laid him on the ground. Afterwards, Xie Lian knelt beside San Lang and started undoing the ties on his robes. At first, the god almost tore them open, but managed to stop himself—even if the robes were probably ruined anyway, they were still somewhat wearable.

When the undershirt slid open, revealing the youngster’s toned abdomen, Xie Lian’s mouth suddenly went dry. The broad chest was eerily still, with the only movement being that of a thin silver chain sliding around the column of San Lang’s neck, likely weighed down by some kind of pendant lost among the glossy dark strands of hair.

At the waist, there were three angry, deep punctures left by the scorpion-snake. The skin around them was smeared with blood, swollen, and throbbing, with a purple bruise already spreading around the wounds.

Xie Lian leaned in to have a closer look, propping his palm against the sturdy belly muscles. He really didn’t know what to do: how was he even supposed to bandage the wound? It’s not like it was a limb, and it wasn’t easy to cut the blood flow at such a peculiar spot! Regardless, he sent Ruoye to wrap itself firmly but not too tightly above the wound just in case. Could he perhaps suck the poison out? But the image of himself latching onto San Lang’s side was making his head spin. Was this really a good time to think about what’s decent and what’s not?

Bracing himself, he sucked in air with a determined inhale and beckoned one of the merchants to give him a dagger. Reluctantly, Nan Feng lit a palm torch, having understood what Xie Lian was about to do, and said, “You really shouldn't do this, it probably won’t help anyway.”

Ignoring the warning, Xie Lian made the cuts across the wounds. When his lips barely touched the soft skin, he was foolish enough to look up at San Lang’s face. He was met with a pair of wide eyes staring at him, utterly dumbfounded.

“Gege, you shouldn’t, just wrap something around the wound, or it will get worse,” he breathed, and Xie Lian felt a slight shiver underneath his palms.

As if scorched, he withdrew his hands, feeling the heat climb up his neck.

“S-San Lang? Are you feeling better?” Xie Lian asked, not sure where to look, but certain anywhere but San Lang’s face would be easier for him to deal with. So, he avoided the younger one’s gaze at all costs, his eyes darting from side to side.

“En,” San Lang answered, moving up slightly to redo the knot on Ruoye and wrap it directly around the wound. The spiritual silk miraculously obeyed and let itself be handled as San Lang wished. “We probably should get going to look for the remedy,” he added, propping himself up on his elbows. It didn’t escape Xie Lian’s attention, though, how San Lang’s arms wavered slightly underneath his own weight.

“We will go, but you should stay, San Lang,” Xie Lian replied and he finally had enough courage to look at the bare-chested youth.

“But-” he tried to protest, and Xie Lian couldn’t hold back a smile looking at the injured but stubborn young man.

“No buts!” Xie Lian retorted, forcing his face into a stern look. “You need to preserve your energy and take care of yourself.”

“You will only slow us down in this state!” added Nan Feng, siding with Xie Lian.

Xie Lian pleaded right after, “Please, San Lang, I will be devastated if something happens to you!” He was shocked with his own brazen words which wouldn’t be that embarrassing if he didn’t realize they were the actual truth. Since when did he care about this San Lang so much?

“I will stay too,” Fu Yao butted in, throwing a mistrusting look at San Lang.

“Very kind of you, but there is no need, I am good on my own,” San Lang grinned with a polite smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Oh but I insist,” Fu Yao returned the gesture and added, “I can also make sure that no one else gets bitten or stung.”

“It’s a very good idea, Fu Yao,” Xie Lian’s smile, unlike that of the other two, was sincere as he spoke to the merchants, “I also would like to borrow your guide, just in case. I hope you don’t mind.”

Since half of Xie Lian’s group was going to be left with the travellers, they easily agreed, especially because San Lang had gotten poisoned himself, which ensured the group’s return were they to find the medicinal plant.

“Sure,” A-Zhao nodded and said, “it isn’t that difficult to find the ruins of the city, however-”

“Please, spare me the chatter and hurry up, I’m about to die,” San Lang suddenly interrupted him, massaging his temples. He indeed looked like he was in pain: his forehead was scrunched, his mouth downturned in a scowl, and a thin sheen of sweat covered his forehead. His eyes, however, were cold and distant.

“Hang in there, San Lang, we will be back in no time,” Xie Lian asserted and glanced at A-Zhao. The latter responded with a weak smile and a slight nod, and turned around to lead the way.

During their trek towards the ruins of the city, the trio spoke about Banyue and its history. Xie Lian made sure to ask A-Zhao several inconspicuous questions, because he indeed, just as Nan Feng assumed, was suspecting the local guide to be hiding something.

All this talk did little to suppress the constant worry about San Lang. It was creeping from his bleeding heart right into his mind like sand flowing in the hourglass, only piling up the further away they stepped from the cave where they had left the others.

This inexplicable urge to protect the charming young man made Xie Lian feel uncomfortable in his own skin. It had been a long while since he had felt such sentiments towards anyone, so he wasn’t ever confronted with the need to resist. Now, he was trying to actively forbid himself from getting attached to someone else—his old heart was reserved for just one person, the person he would never see again.

Was this the youth’s natural charisma attracting him? Or was it his silky dark hair and jade-pale skin? Or the lean, tall frame? Or his dark gaze carrying more experience than his overall appearance would suggest? Or his cool aura that somehow felt warm enough for Xie Lian to feel safe and even let this person into his own home, his own bed (!), on the very evening they had encountered each other?

“Someone is coming!” Nan Feng whispered, his pose instantly tense and on high alert.

The sudden change in the mood pulled Xie Lian out of his bottomless turmoil, and he felt quite ashamed for being too deep in his thoughts to notice someone’s approach. When he sharpened his senses, he indeed heard some light steps approaching them.

The three dove behind the wall of one of the abandoned houses and held their breaths, trying to hear what the figures approaching were saying. Xie Lian dared to glance at them out of a crack in the wall, and, as he had expected, it was the two women he had seen walking in the desert right before they got caught up in the sandstorm.

The lady in white was complaining about something when she was interrupted by the one dressed in black.

“Shi Qingxuan!” she called. “Someone is here.”

On his right, Xie Lian noticed Nan Feng perk up.

“Where, Ming-xiong?” the white-clad lady inquired.

At that, Xie Lian felt robes rustle beside him as Nan Feng finally got up and called, “My ladies, we are no threat!” He came out from behind the wall and waved his arms in a peace offering gesture.

“It’s me, Ge-, an official from the palace of Nan Yang.” He bowed, and Xie Lian could guess that Nan Feng had recognized the names the two ladies were calling each other. They must be heavenly officials too! Which was great, but what exactly were they here for? Didn’t Ling Wen say that one should stay away from Banyue affairs?

His suspicions dissipated once he too came out from hiding and let the two women see him.

“Ah, Your Highness! Who knew you wouldn’t be simply asking, but would set off to the location immediately! Very diligent! I decided to see to the issue as well,” the lady cheered, her smile and eyes bright under the sun.

“The more the merrier,” Xie Lian smiled and bowed, ashamed that he wasn’t aware who the officials were, let alone their titles. Addressing them with their names would be too familiar, even if he had just heard them.

“Indeed, indeed,” nodded the white-clad lady, swishing her whisk.

The woman in black only gave a curt nod and remained silent, her gaze the total opposite of her companion’s—distant and cold. Even though they were in the desert, this kind of cold didn’t feel pleasant at all.

“Well, we are investigating those pesky ghost soldiers,” Shi Qingxuan beamed, starting to walk further down the street. “Have you encountered any of them yet?”

Nan Feng wanted to report but then remembered that he was accompanied by someone from the Upper Court, so he let Xie Lian speak instead.

“Oh, no, in fact, we came here for another reason. A person from our initial group got stung and bitten by a scorpion snake, as well as an elder from the passing caravan we had encountered while hiding from the sandstorm. So we borrowed their guide and would like to find shanyue fern; it’s supposed to be a remedy,” he explained calmly as they were slowly navigating the ruins.

“Oh, about that… I’m sorry about the storm; I simply wanted to protect you. This Banyue business seems fishy, so I wanted to see to it first,” the woman drew her eyebrows together and looked at Xie Lian apologetically. He could only smile back, even if rather awkwardly.

Nan Feng, blessed be his soul, noticed his confusion and quietly reported into his ear, so that no one else could hear, “The one in white is the current Wind Master; the one in black is the Earth Master Ming Yi.”

Xie Lian’s eyes widened. It was that same Wind Master who made it rain merits in the array! Since when was he so lucky to acquire such a powerful ally?

“Anyway,” Xie Lian cleared his throat, “do you by any chance know where this shanyue fern could be found, A-Zhao?” He looked at the guide who seemed rather disturbed by the doubled amount of heavenly officials he was now surrounded by. There was no way he didn’t realize by now that they weren’t mortals…

“Unfortunately, I don’t,” A-Zhao replied solemnly. “I only know where the city is located, so I led you here, as you wished.”

Upon inspecting the guide’s face, Xie Lian couldn’t help but notice that he was quite nervous and alert. Being in such a company must have made the poor mortal uncomfortable.

Suddenly, someone else spoke. Xie Lian didn’t recognize the voice, so he quickly realized it was Lady Earth Master who had remained silent until now. She was massaging her temple, the look of pain on her face. She must have been suffering from a terrible headache! Xie Lian did feel sorry for her, but was grateful to receive all the information about the plant they needed.

“It prefers shade; It is small, its roots thin, but its leaves are big, like a heart-shaped peach. We should probably go to the palace; it should be a good enough place,” she reported. If it wasn’t for a scowl her face was contorted into, one wouldn’t see any emotion in her tone at all. Was she suffering from heat stroke? Dark clothes like this weren’t optimal for the weather, Xie Lian mused. He would offer her some water, but he didn’t have any on him, so he could only be internally appreciative of the Earth Master’s hard work and commitment.

“Ming-xiong! You know so much! I wasn’t aware you were such a scholar,” the Wind Master chirped, and it was probably way too loud, since Ming Yi’s scowl only deepened at the comment. Xie Lian really wished he could help her somehow, but prying into one’s personal medical issues wasn’t something that should be done to people you barely know, especially while surrounded by quite the company. It seemed that the two Elemental Masters were quite close, so surely Shi Qingxuan would provide her friend with some help if needed.

They did find an abundance of the fern near the palace, which would be great were it not for the human fertilizer that was spewing nonsense about having seen one of the members of their party some fifty years ago. This very face also alerted Banyue soldiers, so the group decided not to face them head-on and were led to the Sinner’s Pit, as Xie Lian gave them a brief translation of what General Kemo was up to.

The situation escalated very quickly when they reached the top of the tower: A-Zhao jumped down, and then was followed by the Earth Master. The Wind Master started quarrelling with General Kemo and then, with a wave of her fan, swiped both of them down as well. Xie Lian had left Ruoye with San Lang, so he wasn’t able to do anything and could only gape as Nan Feng fought the rest of the soldiers, nearly falling down himself a couple of times.

They were saved by the girl who had been hung on the pole—she stirred and jumped down, kicking the remaining soldiers into the Pit as well. She wanted to follow them, but then she recognized Xie Lian as General Hua. They had to retell the events of the past to Nan Feng, as it was his turn to stare and gape.

Ban Yue, the State Preceptor of Banyue Kingdom, then destroyed the barrier and, mere seconds later, the two Elemental Masters returned, seated on top of a whirlwind. Beside them were restrained A-Zhao and Kemo.

Another discussion followed, and it turned out A-Zhao was, in fact, General Pei Junior and the one who was luring mortals into the Kingdom in order to feed the resentment of the soldiers. Apparently, it wasn’t an issue anymore, since the Earth Master found her element at the bottom of the Pit and got rid of the ghosts rather efficiently, which earned her a myriad of praise from the Wind Master.

“Ming-xiong, you are so strong! If you are going to catch me like this every time, I am willing to find more missions involving deep, dark pits!”

Sadly, Ming Yi couldn’t appreciate the compliments, her headache having worsened due to the fight, if one were to judge by her appearance—she was rubbing her temples even more violently, her face ashen and displeased.

At least, the mystery had been solved, and the Elemental Masters volunteered to take care of the issue, recognizing Ban Yue’s innocence. The former State Preceptor said she would pay Xie Lian a visit some day and showed them a patch of fern unsullied by human remains.

They parted, and Xie Lian was finally able to breathe out, tucking the medicinal herbs into his sleeve. He hoped it wasn’t too late. Fu Yao couldn’t contact them since the communication array was being suppressed by Pei Xiu, but now that it was back to normal again, no messages had come in nevertheless. Maybe, it was a good sign.

The merchants were happy to see them back, and even Fu Yao seemed relieved. When the herb was applied to the old man’s wound, he immediately felt better. The group thanked them profoundly, and Nan Feng and Fu Yao started drawing a transportation array, diligently bickering all the while.

Xie Lian didn’t pay his surroundings any mind, however. As soon as he spotted the splotch of red leaning against a stone, he darted in that direction. San Lang’s robe was still undone, his eyes barely open, reduced to narrow slits, but they lit up ever so slightly once they registered a flurry of white robes fluttering towards him.

“Gege,” he whimpered, all of his usual nonchalance gone as if it were never there to begin with.

“I thought he was pretending, but I guess he is really dying,” commented Fu Yao, glaring at San Lang. “Maybe we should just leave him here; it would do a great service to the heavens.”

“You didn’t manage to do as much as touch me when I’m in this state. Want to go for another round and humiliate yourself even more?” the youth grunted, baring his teeth in a fake smile.

“Hmph!” Fu Yao turned away to continue drawing the array.

“Wait, you fought?” Xie Lian asked, his heart dropping a bit upon seeing the miserable state San Lang was in. Fighting in his condition was too dangerous!

“It’s my fault!” yelped Tian Sheng, tugging at Xie Lian’s sleeve. “I wanted to go and look for the medicine too; I was worried you would be too late. The black-clad gege said we could if we wanted to, but the red one disagreed and said he shouldn’t be teaching me to leave the ones in need at the worst time possible. So they argued for a while and then started fighting…”

San Lang scoffed and turned his face to the side. Xie Lian noticed Fu Yao’s hand twitch, causing him make a mistake in the drawing. Nan Feng wanted to laugh, but the laughter died in his throat once he saw the dark expression Fu Yao was making.

Xie Lian would have scolded the junior official were he a little bit more unhinged. He couldn’t help but side with San Lang on this one—letting mortals wander around Banyue would be too careless. On the other hand, he didn’t know how exactly their conflict grew into a fight, so he didn’t want to make any baseless assumptions. After all, it seemed that both these junior officials had some kind of unresolved, deep grudge with the red-clad man, so Xie Lian decided to let it be for now and busied himself with rubbing the medicine against San Lang’s waist.

“Gege, I can do it myself,” he smiled weakly, trying to get up, which made his entire upper body sway.

Xie Lian shook his head and steadied his companion by the shoulder. “Don’t, just let me,” he rejected gently but firmly. San Lang’s eyebrows knitted, but he swallowed his pride and leaned back, exposing his slender neck to the sun.

Xie Lian was yet again met with the challenge of touching the youth’s smooth skin, and it made his insides churn. Ruoye unwrapped itself, revealing the wounds, which didn’t look as severe anymore. In fact, they were almost healed, only the bruises remaining, which surprised Xie Lian quite a bit. He tore the thick leaves apart into small pieces and pressed them against the little punctures nevertheless.

Absent-mindedly, he brushed the fingers of his free hand along San Lang’s abdomen. Although he hoped it would be a calming gesture, it brought himself another wave of unrest and self-loathing. San Lang had a fine body and seemed like a nice person as well, but who was Xie Lian to touch him like this? His thoughts drifted back to the person whose touch he would trade his own soul for.

He wanted to wail, but all he could do was withdraw his hand immediately and inwardly curse himself. Deep in his thoughts, he must have pressed the fern too harshly against San Lang’s wound, causing the other’s body to flinch. What was he doing thinking all kinds of indecent thoughts while the young man beneath him was suffering from pain?

“Sorry, San Lang, sorry,” he lamented. “Are you feeling better?”

He looked up to see San Lang’s strained face. It made Xie Lian wonder whether the poison had already inflicted some irreversible damage. Yet, taking in the way the wounds looked, it also made him question if it was poison that bothered San Lang in the first place.

“It’s fine, gege, I think I’m just tired,” San Lang answered, his voice soft, as if he were trying to comfort Xie Lian.

The array was finished, so the mortals were sent away, and the quartet went back to Puqi Shrine.

Xie Lian had to support San Lang all the way, and he couldn’t help but notice that the latter’s body was extremely warm to the touch. It seemed like San Lang was succumbing to a terrible fever! He helped the red-clad youth lay down on the mat, pondering what to do. The only thing he could come up with was to cook some soup using the leftovers of shanyue fern—the herb was indeed quite fragrant, so it would be fun to try out this new ingredient!

Nan Feng and Fu Yao were watching his every single movement intently, throwing cautious glances at San Lang every now and then. Were they worried about him too?

“What are you going to do with this, Your Highness?” Nan Feng asked. It wasn’t clear whether he meant San Lang or the pot Xie Lian was hovering above.

He hummed, “If your Generals wouldn’t mind you staying, then you are invited to join us for some shanyue soup!” Wouldn’t it be nice to share a good meal together after such a tiring adventure?

The junior officials’ faces morphed into weird expressions. Simultaneously, they put their fingers to their temples. Were they developing the same headache as the Earth Master? Oh, no, it seemed they had to use the communication array.

“Your Highness, I apologize, I have to leave abruptly, my General has just summoned me; it seems to be an emergency,” Fu Yao blurted, gave a curt bow, and turned on his heels, only leaving some dust behind.

“Yes, same here,” reported Nan Feng, following suit and leaving Xie Lian and San Lang alone.

“Well, it looks like we will have the soup just to ourselves,” Xie Lian sighed, stirring the mixture that was somehow getting thicker by the second, now resembling porridge. Perhaps the fern had some binding properties.

“Thank you, gege,” San Lang lowered his head, his voice barely audible, “I will get going right after, before your little servants send their friends and gang up on me.” Every word he said sounded increasingly more laboured. It looked like San Lang was running out of energy again.

“I see,” Xie Lian couldn’t help but agree. The heavens definitely could take advantage of the situation. “But drink the soup first. I’m sure you have enough time for this, Hua Cheng,” he urged, bringing the bowl to the man on the mat.

“Of course, Your Royal Highness, there’s no way the heavens are so efficient that I wouldn’t have enough time for lunch. But I would prefer it if you still called me San Lang,” he responded, a cheeky smirk flashing on his lips just for a second. As soon as Hua Cheng took the very first spoonful of the soup/porridge, a rather quiet but persistent knock on the door echoed through the shrine.

Xie Lian perked up and felt his body tense. Did Hua Cheng just jinx it? Making sure that Ruoye was ready to attack at any moment, he strode to the door and called, mustering his voice into a stern tone, “Who comes here?”

“Your Highness, I’m here to pick up Chengzhu,” answered a male voice unfamiliar to Xie Lian. It was neither low nor high-pitched, neither loud nor quiet. To be honest, it didn’t have any hallmarks at all, rendering it absolutely generic.

Xie Lian frowned and turned to Hua Cheng to see whether he had recognized the person. Hua Cheng waved a hand and said, his voice hoarse, “Let him in, it’s one of my subordinates.”

With a nod, Xie Lian slid the door open. The man outside wore a mask with a woeful smile on it, making it impossible to tell whether he was a human or a ghost—he was concealing his presence masterfully.

“Your Highness,” he bowed as Xie Lian beckoned him inside and shut the door again.

Hua Cheng had already finished his meal and managed to prop himself up a bit to greet the newcomer.

“What are you doing here? I don’t remember calling you,” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Bl…” The man interrupted himself, then continued, “His Lordship wasn’t answering in the communication array, so I decided to make sure everything was fine.”

Hua Cheng rolled his eyes and wanted to comment on that, but suddenly his eyelashes fluttered and his unneeded breath hitched.

“Chengzhu!”

“San Lang!”

Both the masked subordinate and Xie Lian hurried to the corner where Hua Cheng lay, his face scrunched and cheeks flushed. Xie Lian wondered if the fever Hua Cheng was suffering from was even more dangerous to normally cold ghosts than it would be to mortals.

The subordinate, more efficient than Xie Lian—as expected of someone who served the Ghost King—rushed to check his boss’s meridians as well as the wound on his side. “Chengzhu, I’m afraid you have to drop the disguise to preserve your energy. It’s fluctuating in a weird way. Could it be that you have a reaction to scorpion-snake poison? Like how some people fall ill if they consume eggs or nuts?” the servant asked. His tone still collected, but the tempo of his speech increased slightly.

“I don’t know. I burnt through the poison the moment it stung; it can’t be,” Hua Cheng answered, his own articulation growing slurred and strained.

“Let me take you back to your domain; it will be easier to recover there,” the masked man suggested, straightening his shoulders.

“Could I accompany you?” Xie Lian wondered, feeling guilty for being the reason of Hua Cheng’s predicament. He couldn’t imagine that Ghost Kings were so vulnerable. Last time he faced one, the being didn’t show any weaknesses at all!

“Gege shouldn’t bother,” Hua Cheng muttered, his blinking becoming more and more prolonged.

“I insist, it was my fault in the first place!” Xie Lian pressed, feeling relieved when Hua Cheng smiled weakly and nodded in agreement. The feeling of relief disappeared a moment later when Hua Cheng finally lost consciousness and became unresponsive.

A second later his form changed—he grew taller and broader, his hair got long and spilled down his waist, his face became more angular and sharp, and on top of his right eye now sat a black eye-patch.

Hua Cheng’s subordinate hooked the Ghost King’s arm over his shoulder, lifting him with unexpected ease, and walked towards the door. He then took out a small object from his sleeve and threw it in the air. Only then did Xie Lian notice that it was a pair of crimson dice.

“Your Highness?” the masked man called, inviting Xie Lian to come closer to the door. When it opened, he couldn’t see the yard of his shrine anymore, but a lush, extravagant garden. The dice were a spiritual tool that could open a transportation array—how peculiar!

“It is extraordinary how such a small object can carry such a powerful spell!” Xie Lian couldn’t help but exclaim out loud. “Is it your creation, my lord?” he didn’t know how to address the man but if he was allowed to contact Crimson Rain via the communication array and carry him around, he must have been someone important and thus his status could only be higher than Xie Lian’s own. This, however, wasn’t a high mark to beat, was it? Was there anyone lower than a twice-banished, misfortune-bringing, scrap-collecting god?

“Your Highness, call me Yin Yu, I beg you!” the man, Yin Yu, visibly shuddered. Xie Lian could swear he heard him mutter, “Thank goodness Chengzhu is unconscious and couldn’t hear it…” Then, more clearly, he added, “This one could never have created something as powerful as these dice. Naturally, this is one of the miraculous inventions of His Lordship Chengzhu.”

Xie Lian almost wanted to ask more about other creations and whether he could see them, but he decided it would be better to ask Hua Cheng directly. Right now, their main objective was to figure out how to nurture the Calamity back to health.

They soon stopped at a large wooden double door, decorated with intricate ornaments. It led to a spacious bedroom with a luxurious bed in the middle of it, precious red silks and the softest cushions glistening in the orange hues of the outside light spilling through a carved window.

“I will bring some water and cloth in a moment; this is all I can think of right now. If Your Highness could look after Chengzhu for a while, I would highly appreciate it; if it’s not a bother, of course. I could do some research in the meantime,” Yin Yu laid out a plan as he carefully put the ghost on the bed.

“Of course, and please call me Xie Lian,” the god acquiesced, sitting down beside Hua Cheng. He was about to reach out with his hand to stroke the ghost’s handsome face, but managed to restrain himself. This new appearance set his mind and heart ablaze even worse than the previous one, and he was almost certain that the fever Hua Cheng was going down with was infectious. How else could he explain his behaviour?

Yin Yu reappeared and disappeared again, leaving a tray with a small ice-water basin and a cloth behind, before Xie Lian even finished the previous thought. He dampened the cloth, the freezing water nigh burning his fingers, and tapped it gently against the ghost’s scalding forehead. It was impossible to tell if it helped; there was no breathing or pulse to check. If anything, it reminded him of washing corpses, which he had done multiple times during his centuries of banishment. Never had it felt this soul-wrecking, though.

Some time had passed like this, but Xie Lian wasn’t sure how long it had been. It could have been mere minutes or hours. He nearly fell off the bed when the doors were flung open again. The movement was abrupt and violent, so he immediately knew it wasn’t Yin Yu.

The person who stood in the door-frame was a tall, rather gaunt-looking man, his long, straight hair cascading down like a black waterfall. He was wearing black, multi-layered robes; though plain, one could tell how luxurious they were by the way the fabric was flowing around his frame. His eyes looked cold, and it felt as though they could pierce through time and space.

He started yelling even before he had opened the door completely, “Crimson Rain, what the hell do you think you are doing? Where are your ash-” His voice died out as soon as he noticed Xie Lian’s presence in the room. His face suddenly scrunched in a pained grimace, which looked somewhat familiar to Xie Lian, and was immediately covered with the man’s palm. Was there some migraine epidemic spreading? Xie Lian mused, studying the man’s appearance.

With a grunt, the figure turned around and slammed the door shut. The room was once again engulfed in silence, as if no one had just visited, were it not for a slight draft still fleeting through the room after the aggressive door swinging.

Xie Lian fought his confusion and got up to see whether the man was still there. It seemed he was close to Hua Cheng and even had an idea of what might be hurting the Ghost King so much, but when Xie Lian looked outside and glanced to either side of the corridor, no one was there anymore.

Although frustrated that he couldn’t ask the stranger about Hua Cheng’s condition, he also felt motivated to start looking for a way to ease his pain. There must be something he could do.

Having almost gotten used to it at this point, Xie Lian unceremoniously undid Hua Cheng’s crimson robes. The outfit changed together with the form to accommodate the ghost’s true size, but it also became more elegant, so it took him some time to unbuckle numerous silver clasps and undo lavishly ornamented belts.

When he was done, he saw that this body was even finer than the previous one. It was so firm and excruciatingly perfect, Xie Lian wanted to touch every single bump and dimple. As to why such desires bloomed in him, he concluded it was because he had never had an opportunity to investigate a ghost of such a calibre, that’s all.

His jaw clenched, Xie Lian tried to focus on the wound left by the snake. It’s just that there was no wound anymore—not even the tiniest bruise or blemish was visible on Hua Cheng’s skin! Did the wounds look so severe before because Hua Cheng was imitating a mortal body with his disguise? If so, he did an incredible job, and the skill level of his shape-shifting could only be admired! On the other hand, what was Xie Lian supposed to try healing now if the ghost looked as good as new?

Now that he was sitting closer to Hua Cheng in the total silence of the room, Xie Lian could hear a faint crinkling sound coming from somewhere behind the ghost’s hair. All he could see was a thin silver chain slithering around Hua Cheng’s neck, so he wondered whether the noise was coming from some kind of cursed object tied to it. Could it be the thing that was poisoning Hua Cheng?

Carefully, he ran his fingers under the chain, tugging at it slightly and freeing its length from underneath Hua Cheng’s locks. Soon, he felt the weight not letting him pull the chain further—something was stuck either in the robes or the hair.

“Pardon the intrusion,” Xie Lian whispered to the unconscious ghost as he hooked his arm behind Hua Cheng’s shoulder, turning him onto his side in the process.

Xie Lian ran his fingers through the ghost’s hair, but other than finding out how soft and pleasant to the touch it was, he didn’t discover anything tangled in it. He then probed around the collar, pulling it away a little bit, and saw the chain straighten—something was indeed stuck in the robes! Xie Lian quickly gathered the black strands into his fist and lightly threw the loose ponytail over Hua Cheng’s shoulder, away from his back. He was hoping to see the cursed object tangled in a tassel or a leather strap, but what he saw left him speechless.

As soon as the hair was away from Hua Cheng’s back, the hissing sound became more prominent. Moreover, he could now smell a faint odor of burnt flesh and fabric—the pendant, a translucent crystal ring, was searing into Hua Cheng’s skin, glowing white and yellow. It looked as if it was throbbing in pain as well, with the liquid inside pulsating and darting chaotically.

The object did exude some kind of aura, but it didn’t feel hostile in the slightest. Xie Lian reached out to it with his fingers but couldn’t touch—it was sweltering hot. Holding his breath, he took the cloth he had been using to cool down Hua Cheng’s forehead, dunked it into the icy water once more, and pressed it against the ring. He clenched his jaw, apologizing inwardly one more time, and pulled on the ring. He had to wince, feeling it tear Hua Cheng’s skin, but there was no way back. Xie Lian put a little more force into the movement and finally tore the ring off.

Hua Cheng let out a low growl and rolled onto his back yet again, his handsome face contorted in pain. “Oh, you shouldn’t lay on your back!” Xie Lian reprimanded him. Without giving it a second thought, he threw the burning ring into the basin and turned Hua Cheng onto his side, his face now turned towards Xie Lian.

The ring was still hissing in the basin, but all Xie Lian’s attention was fixated on Hua Cheng’s face, waiting for any signs of relief. The ghost’s eyelashes indeed soon fluttered, their thick curtain revealing only a thin slit of his eye.

“Your Highness,” he breathed, his gaze fogged, but the flush on his cheeks was visibly paling.

Xie Lian wanted to check the temperature of Hua Cheng’s forehead, but his hand got caught mid-air. He was afraid Hua Cheng was going to slap it away, as it must have been quite uncomfortable for a Calamity to be in such a vulnerable position in front of a heavenly official. He winced at the realization of his inconsiderate behaviour, but then he felt the back of his fingers pressed against something. He opened his eyes to see his hand placed where he had initially planned, on Hua Cheng’s forehead.

“Your Highness, it’s such a good dream,” he murmured, closing his eye, as if savouring the moment like an exotic delicacy.

The scene looked so eerily familiar that Xie Lian felt his own heart grow still. The forehead was slightly warm, and the person it belonged to was not kneeling but lying before him, but everything else… The black unruly hair, the conviction, the way he called him “Your Highness” like no one else would, like no one else probably even could.

“Wuming?” Xie Lian’s lips moved before he could stop them. But the address didn’t seem to bother Hua Cheng in the slightest. Was it because he was still delirious?

“Your Highness can call this one what he wishes. This servant will wear every name given to him by His Highness with pride,” he whispered, opening his eye fully this time. The dark gaze was burning through Xie Lian’s very essence. It was the look of either a devoted believer or a desperate lover…

“It’s you…” Xie Lian whispered, not daring to pull his hand away from the other’s hold. If anything, he wished the ghost would keep it in his own for as long as he wished.

“Your Highness remembers this one?” Hua Cheng smiled, uncharacteristically bashfully.

“Of course…” Xie Lian nodded, blinking away his tears. It was too difficult to process the sudden return of someone he had been mourning for eight centuries. Wuming was back, and he was doing well. Maybe, he had even already found his beloved… Oh, that.

“Hua Cheng, your beloved, did you find them?” Xie Lian didn’t even know how he had the gall to ask so directly. Perhaps he was hoping that Hua Cheng still thought it was a dream, then he could get all the answers and pretend it had never happened. And if the answers… Well, once he ensured Hua Cheng was happy and satisfied with his life, he could just get the hell out of it before he brought another misfortune upon the ghost.

“I did,” Hua Cheng answered, not averting his gaze, but probably unaware of how suffocating it had become for Xie Lian to breathe.

“Mhm, good,” Xie Lian nodded, not recognizing his own dry and strained voice. “Should I call for them then?” No matter what kind of feelings he had towards Wuming, Hua Cheng, or San Lang, he had no right to intrude like this, absorbing all the attention to himself. How shameless, really!

“And who would you call?” Hua Cheng asked, tilting his head to the side. Xie Lian could swear he could see a faint ghost of a smirk on Hua Cheng’s lips.

“The masked man?” Xie Lian tried. Yin Yu indeed looked like someone who cared about Hua Cheng a lot. He rushed to pick him up, carrying him so carefully, and knew immediately what to do upon seeing the ghost in his ill state…

Hua Cheng’s face took on an unreadable expression, his lips pursed together, as if he was considering this option. He hummed thoughtfully and finally responded, “Mhm, no, I’m pretty sure my beloved is not into any kinds of masks anymore...” He then cleared his throat and continued pressing, “Does anyone else cross your mind, gege?”

At least he was back to calling Xie Lian “gege”. On the other hand, he couldn’t help but feel like he was being teased mercilessly. However, another person did cross his mind—the man who barged into Hua Cheng’s room without knocking, and even raised his voice at him. They must be close! Even if Xie Lian didn’t approve of the tone that potential beloved-candidate used to speak with Hua Cheng, it wasn’t his place to judge. Yes, the ghost deserved a better treatment, but remembering his own antics from eight hundred years ago, he could only feel the guilt.

He sighed, “Well, there is another person I can think of…”

Hua Cheng cocked his eyebrow, urging the god to continue.

“Tall, with long dark hair, waves embroidery on the robes?” Xie Lian tried describing, since he didn’t know that person’s name.

At first, Hua Cheng looked like he was willing to tease Xie Lian some more, but once the god mentioned the robes, his face twisted into a grimace and his mouth noticeably twitched.

“Ew! Fuck no!” he spat. His expression then turned into something resembling shyness as he quietly added, “Pardon my language, Your Highness, but you got it wrong again. Very, very wrong. There probably aren’t any options that would be more wrong.” It seemed Hua Cheng was thinking about anyone who could be as wrong an option as the tall man Xie Lian had seen today, his grimace growing only more disgusted. He then straightened and shook his head as if trying to shoo away all those unpleasant thoughts.

Another thought crossed Xie Lian’s mind—didn’t it seem like Hua Cheng was familiar with Nan Feng and Fu Yao? Fu Yao even insisted on staying by his side in Banye! Even if this kind of a story would be rather convoluted and scandalous, he had heard that the ways of love could be quite vicious and unpredictable. So, he blurted, “Nan Feng? Or Fu Yao? More probably Fu Yao?”

The gagging noise Hua Cheng had produced was so realistic, that, for a split second, Xie Lian really thought Hua Cheng’s illness was getting worse anew.

Waving his hand, the ghost almost pleaded, “Okay, stop, stop! I’m sorry for teasing you! Forget about no options being more wrong, gege somehow managed to outdo the previous one!” Hua Cheng did look very ill now, the pained scowl on his face as he was rubbing his forehead with Xie Lian’s fingers, which he was still holding tightly in his hand.

“Then…” Xie Lian trailed off, his eyes fixed on the way Hua Cheng’s large hand could capture his own so perfectly, and how beautiful his snow-pale skin looked against his own, slightly sun-kissed one.

“Don’t make me say it, Your Highness,” Hua Cheng averted his gaze, placing the lock of their hands on his chest but not letting go.

Xie Lian mentally reprimanded himself for prying into Hua Cheng’s personal matters so shamelessly. It was indeed his own business, and Xie Lian’s nosiness was selfish and unasked for. He wanted to know the identity of the person who made this powerful being defy nature and gather his soul back to return even stronger. But what was he trying to find out? That this person was someone more noble and precious than himself? It was obvious from the start; he was never going to be let into the competition. So why did his entire being itch to know? And what was this sour, hurtful miasma gathering in his chest, so palpable it was about to crush his heart?

“Better tell me what happened,” Hua Cheng continued, smiling weakly.

“Oh, right!” Xie Lian exclaimed and turned to his left where the basin stood. The ice had now completely melted and the water was warm. Xie Lian fished the ring from the bottom of the bowl with his free hand; it had cooled down and was now possible to touch. “This burnt into your skin. Is it some kind of a cursed object?” Xie Lian wondered, letting it hang between them. “I damaged the chain though, I’m sorry. There was no other way,” he added as he let the pendant fall into Hua Cheng’s open palm.

He too, used his other hand to accept the ring. It was as if they had an unspoken agreement to not let the other’s hand go, and looking at the lock made Xie Lian feel pleasantly fuzzy and tormented at the same time.

“You could call it a curse, but it isn’t,” Hua Cheng said calmly, observing the ring. “It must have slipped from underneath my robes and then  got overheated in the desert , I see,” he continued as if thinking out loud.

He then looked up at Xie Lian and flipped their clasped hands so that Xie Lian’s was now on top of his. He opened Xie Lian’s fingers with his other hand and placed the ring onto the open palm.

“In fact, it should be yours,” Hua Cheng added, his gaze dropping back down. “Consider it your answer to the previous question, Your Highness.”

“Wh-” Xie Lian started but couldn’t finish his sentence. The ring was gently humming in his palm with its now calm energy. Xie Lian felt a sudden urge to hide it from the world, to protect and guard it with his life. The humming in his palm was music warming his every cell, it was singing of flowers, devotion and love, it was singing in Wuming’s, Hua Cheng’s, and San Lang’s voices. The voices were different, but the message they were conveying was the same.

 “There’s a custom in the Ghost Realm where if a ghost has a special someone, they entrust their ashes to that person.”

San Lang had said it during their first conversation. This ring, was it... ?

Xie Lian’s eyes widened, and he looked back at Hua Cheng in disbelief.

The latter tried to look indifferent as he answered the unasked question, “You can toss it or crush it right away. However, if there’s a chance that gege would allow me to stay by his side, if only to help and protect him, not requiring anything in return, it would make me very happy.”

Hua Cheng’s nonchalant mask started cracking at the beginning of the second sentence and totally crumbled by the end of it. He was looking somewhere to his side, and his voice grew tentative and almost desperate.

Xie Lian’s mind was running a hundred miles per second, the revelation crushing him like an avalanche. The growing uncertainty on Hua Cheng’s face brought him back to reality.

“San Lang,” he muttered, glancing back and forth between the ghost and his ashes.

Hua Cheng took a deep breath to steady himself, closed his eye, and turned his face away slightly, saying, “Your Highness, it is fine; I will accept any response, no need to feel pressured.”

A moment later his eye grew round in surprise—Xie Lian pulled him into a tight hug with one arm, burrowing his face in the crook of the ghost’s neck. Their other hands were now cradling the ring in them, pressed between the god’s and ghost’s chests, as Xie Lian intertwined their fingers.

“San Lang,” Xie Lian breathed into the cold skin underneath his lips, feeling the shudder it caused. He looked up to see Hua Cheng’s bewildered face.

“Am I still delirious?” Hua Cheng asked, his lips barely moving.

“Maybe I am delirious too,” Xie Lian commented just as quietly, tenderly placing his hand on top of Hua Cheng’s cheek and studying his every feature.

The air between them became thick and charged as they felt each other’s warm breaths. The distance between them was growing smaller as they both were leaning in closer and closer.

When their lips connected, one felt as if he was going to die a third time, and the other as if he was going through his fourth heavenly tribulation. The ring fell onto the bedsheets at some point when their touches grew bolder and kisses more desperate. They would find it on the floor in the morning, only having panicked a little bit. The miraculously fixed chain was then securely clasped around Xie Lian’s neck, replacing the cursed shackle that was shattered when the night was giving its reigns to the morning sun.