Work Text:
Xie Lian knows something is wrong as soon as he reenters the bedroom.
Hua Cheng is used to sleeping next to him now, and he always wakes up when Xie Lian wakes up. On mornings like these, when Xie Lian feels like getting up and making breakfast for the two of them, Hua Cheng does one of two things.
First, he uses the time Xie Lian is in the kitchen to prepare for the day. It usually takes him a while to put on his elaborate robes, jewelry, and sometimes even armor. He does his hair, then picks out Xie Lian’s robes for the day and sets out his hairbrush, oils, and perfume. He usually does this on days when he has things to do, or when he wants to go to the Gambler’s Den to remind his subjects that he is still an all-powerful, watchful force.
If he’s feeling especially content to stay in that day, he’ll remain in bed and pretend to be asleep. Xie Lian can always tell that he’s pretending because Hua Cheng doesn’t make it hard; he pretends to breathe, something he doesn’t do when he’s really asleep. When Xie Lian comes back in, he’ll wait until Xie Lian walks over to the bed and wakes him up himself, indulging in Hua Cheng’s little game. He’ll tickle him awake– really, who would have thought that a Calamity would be so sensitive– or do more, ah, adult activities.
This morning is different. When Xie Lian walks in, Hua Cheng is sitting up in bed, spine uncomfortably straight. He’s staring at something at the end of their large bed– their discarded robes from last night, a red and a white pair, abandoned in favor of a quick romp in the sheets after a long day of taking down a water demon before finally resting.
“San Lang, I made breakfast!” Xie Lian says, pushing down the beginnings of the nagging anxiety at Hua Cheng’s odd posture. “Your favorite, congee with chilis and garlic, just how you… what’s wrong?”
Hua Cheng turns and stares at Xie Lian with a look of abject confusion and… horror? Rage? Xie Lian has never seen this particular expression directed at him.
Even more weird, he’s in a long unused form– not unlike his usual form, but with two normal eyes, like he’s masquerading as a mortal again. In this form, he looks like San Lang’s older brother. Xie Lian has seen this skin only a handful of times, and Hua Cheng had told him that he wore this skin most often when he was still searching for Xie Lian, when he was uncomfortable with eyes on him, staring at his eyepatch.
“Who… are you?” Hua Cheng says slowly. “How did you get in here?”
Xie Lian chuckles. “San Lang, stop joking around. Do you want to eat in the kitchen or in here?”
“Who are you?” Hua Cheng asks again.
Xie Lian sighs and decides to take the bait. Something seems seriously wrong, but Hua Cheng is a pretty good actor. They can talk about how this isn’t okay when he decides to stop this prank. “I’m your husband, San Lang. Please, stop this.”
Silently, without even a faux breath or looking away, Hua Cheng holds out his hand behind him. E-Ming, which is propped against the nightstand in its usual place, rattles before flying into his hand.
Hua Cheng waves his hand and brings his hand up as if he’s about to point the cursed blade at Xie Lian, but as soon as the blade comes within a few inches of pointing at Xie Lian it makes a shrieking noise and flies out of Hua Cheng’s hands, straight into Xie Lian’s arm.
The blade makes a little sobbing noise, its ruby red eye fluttering open and shut blindingly fast.
“E-Ming, you useless brat!” Hua Cheng growls, slamming his hands into the comforter. “Kill this intruder!”
Xie Lian's heart drops into his stomach. This isn’t a joke, this isn’t a joke, this isn’t a joke–
Hua Cheng really doesn’t remember him. Or, doesn’t know him at all? Xie Lian doesn’t know what’s going on, and his head is suddenly blank and swimming with a million thoughts at once.
He takes a deep breath. He can’t think about that right now. He needs to work on this situation first. “E-Ming will never hurt me,” he says fondly, patting the blade’s handle. The scimitar shivers in appreciation. He sets E-Ming on the ground, and the blade lets out a keening noise and skitters behind him, like a child clinging onto his robes.
“San Lang,” Xie Lian says again, consolingly. He doesn’t try to touch Hua Cheng, but he smoothes out the blankets at the edge of the bed as he walks forward.
“That’s not my name!” Hua Cheng’s voice is gaining volume, gaining an edge. “My name is Hua Cheng, Crimson Rain Sought Flower, Scourge of the Heavens, Master of Ghost City–”
“Hong-er,” Xie Lian says softly.
Hua Cheng falters, looking at him with wide eyes. Xie Lian isn’t used to looking at his husband with two eyes. He grips his robe around himself even tighter. “How do you know that?”
“You’re my husband,” Xie Lian says. “I know you.”
He holds out his hand, where his red string of fate sits on his outstretched middle finger. “Look,” Xie Lian says, taking a shaky breath. “We match.”
Deep, deep down in Hua Cheng’s brain, there must be something holding him back from not immediately trying to kill Xie Lian now, he thinks, even if he doesn’t remember him. His husband complacently holds out his hand, his eyes widening when he sees a matching red string tied around his own finger.
“Did you put that there?” he asks after a moment’s hesitation.
Xie Lian sighs, drawing back a little to reach under his robes. “San–Hua Cheng,” he says, pulling out the ring, his most precious possession. “Look. Would you give your ashes to just anyone?”
Hua Cheng’s eyes zero in on the ring, displayed so delicately in the middle of Xie Lian’s palm, before he reaches forward and yanks the chain from his neck. The chain breaks easily, and Hua Cheng clenches the ring in his hand, pulling it away from him and hiding it behind his back.
“Stop!” Xie Lian exclaims, reaching up to grasp at his neck. The feeling of comforting weight that the ashes have provided for years is gone, and now Xie Lian feels like he’s suffocating. “Why would you do that?”
“I can’t have my ashes on someone I don’t know,” Hua Cheng says.
“You know me,” Xie Lian cries, his eyes beginning to water. He can’t believe Hua Cheng would take back his ashes so casually, so cruelly. “I’m your husband, Xie Lian.”
“I don’t,” Hua Cheng says.
“Your tattoo,” Xie Lian says, desperately. “On your arm. Look at it!”
Hua Cheng looks down at his arm. The tattoo he’s always had, of Xie Lian’s name, is still emblazoned on his skin. He scowls.
“You see?” Xie Lian says, smiling through the tears in his eyes. He blinks, trying to rid themselves of them. “You became a ghost king for me.”
Hua Cheng shakes his head. “I became a ghost king to get revenge on all who have wronged me.”
“You didn’t.” Xie Lian holds out his hand. “I promise, you’re my husband. Feel my spiritual energy.”
“Why?” Hua Cheng looks suspicious.
Xie Lian takes a deep breath. “It’s… you give me spiritual energy often. The amount I have couldn’t have been given just from stealing it from you in one night.”
Hua Cheng grips his wrist, pressing his thumb against Xie Lian’s pulse point. His eyes widen, and Xie Lian knows what he’s feeling. He himself gets overwhelmed sometimes at the amount of spiritual energy he has nowadays, after going so long with barely any. Hua Cheng keeps him well-stocked these days.
“I see,” Hua Cheng says. He raises a hand to his temple.
“Who are you calling for?” Xie Lian asks, biting his lip nervously.
“Yin Yu can clear this up,” Hua Cheng says before he lets go of Xie Lian’s hand.
Xie Lian relaxes a little. Yin Yu! Why didn’t he think of Yin Yu before? Surely Yin Yu will know what’s happened, because he knows everything that happens in Paradise Manor, and he certainly knows who Xie Lian is. He’ll set the record straight, and everything will go back to normal.
They sit in silence for not even a minute before there’s a knock on the door. Hua Cheng barks an order to enter and Yin Yu enters the room, shutting the door behind him.
“Yin Yu,” Xie Lian says, gesturing him over to the bed.
“Dianxia,” Yin Yu says, bowing. Xie Lian has told him so many times that he can drop the title and refer to him less formally, even as gege, but Yin Yu refuses every time– probably because Hua Cheng is always in the back looking at him threateningly. At least Xie Lian had convinced Hua Cheng to stop making Yin Yu wear that mask all the time.
“Yin Yu,” Hua Cheng says curtly. “You know this cultivator?”
“Ah, Chengzhu…?” Yin Yu looks confused. His eyebrows scrunch up as he takes in Hua Cheng’s form, most likely confused at this long-unused body, but he stays silent.
“Hua Cheng has lost his memory,” Xie Lian says quickly. “He remembers everything but me.”
A look of concern flashes across Yin Yu’s face, before he quickly turns it into a more neutral expression. “A curse?”
“I’m not cursed!” Hua Cheng says, gritting his teeth. “Yin Yu?”
“Chengzhu, this is your husband,” Yin Yu says, wringing his hands nervously. “Xie Lian, the Flower-Crowned Martial God. You’ve known him for 800 years.”
Hua Cheng’s shoulders sag. For all that he orders Yin Yu around and mistreats him, Xie Lian knows that he values Yin Yu and trusts him not to lie. “And you’re telling the truth?”
Yin Yu nods. “Yes. You searched for him for centuries. You got married years ago, and have been living together in various residences since then. Both of you recently stopped on your way back from Puqi Shrine to kill a demon in a neighboring mountain village, before heading back here to rest for a time.”
Hua Cheng’s gaze flits between Xie Lian and Yin Yu before he scowls. “I’m not cursed.”
“Chengzhu, why don’t you let us see what we can find out?” Yin Yu says, raising his hands a little in surrender. “It won’t hurt for us to investigate anything.”
Hua Cheng scowls even more deeply, but he finally nods a little. “Fine.”
“In the meantime, perhaps a trip through the city?” Yin Yu suggests. “If you remember everything else, then walking through the city should be fine…”
“We'll go to Qiandeng Temple, too,” Xie Lian says. “You– it’s the temple you built for me in Ghost City. It’ll jog your memory, San Lang.”
“That’s not my name,” Hua Cheng says, but the fight seems to have drained out of him.
Yin Yu takes his leave, telling Xie Lian in his communication array that he’ll be in the library researching memory curses. Xie Lian wishes him well, and Yin Yu does the same.
It takes them only a few minutes to get ready to walk to the temple. Xie Lian throws on a simple outer robe and ties his hair up in his favorite low-maintenance bun. When he comes back from behind the privacy screen, intending to let Hua Cheng get dressed, Hua Cheng has already used spiritual energy to change his robes into outerwear. He feels insecurity strike him for just a second; Hua Cheng is dressed in an imposing, regal set of robes, and Xie Lian is in very simple wear. He still hasn’t quite gotten the hang of putting on fancy robes by himself, and he hasn’t needed to; Hua Cheng has always been there to help him get dressed and twirl his hair up into elegant braids and twists.
He rubs at his temple, before smiling at Hua Cheng, who doesn’t seem to notice his internalized strife– another sign that his husband is truly not himself. “Let’s go,” he says.
𑁍
The walk through the city goes how it usually goes. This, at least, Hua Cheng seems to recognize, but he also seems unprepared for just how many of the residents want to fawn over them. Xie Lian turns down at least a dozen gifts before they make it onto the main street.
“Hua-furen!” a ghost yells as the crowd parts in front of them, and Hua Cheng stiffens next to them as Xie Lian tries to hide his cringe. It’s their new favorite nickname for him, one they had adopted after Hua Cheng had announced their marriage to the residents of the city, and while Xie Lian preferred it to ‘grand-uncle,’ it wasn’t the time for him to be referred to as Hua Cheng’s wife.
When Xie Lian looks down, a little girl is standing in front of him. She’s small, not even reaching up to his waist, and Xie Lian’s heart breaks a little in his chest the way it always does when he sees ghost children. “A gift for you,” she says, holding out a box for him.
He takes the ornate box in his hands carefully. It’s wooden and heavy, carved intricately with pomegranates and dragons around the sides and on the top. He feels a sense of dread at the obvious symbolism, but he smiles anyway. “Thank you, meimei. What is it?”
“A childbearing pill, for you and Chengzhu!” she says brightly, before bowing again.
Hua Cheng sucks in a sharp breath by his side, and Xie Lian feels his heart drop into his stomach.
He hands the box back to her quickly. “Ah… we already have so many of these. Won’t you find a better home for it?”
She looks up at Xie Lian with wide, colorless eyes. She must have died before cultivating even a little because she’s barely opaque. “Of course, Dianxia.”
He pats her head and she scurries back into the crowd.
The crowd disperses a little after that. Hua Cheng has a stony look on his face, and the residents of Ghost City have learned by now that it’s best not to bother him when he’s upset, especially if he’s with Xie Lian– if even Xie Lian can’t cheer him up, he’s more likely to take his anger out on them.
Their walk out of the city is pretty quiet. They make it down the main street before Hua Cheng speaks again.
“We have… childbearing pills?” Hua Cheng asks. His voice is low and nervous. Xie Lian doesn’t think he’s heard Hua Cheng be nervous in years, and the dread sitting in the pit of his stomach only grows.
“A whole drawer of them back in the bedroom,” Xie Lian confirms quietly. “It’s their favorite thing to give us.”
Hua Cheng looks very uncomfortable, but curious nonetheless. “And the results?”
“Huh?” Xie Lian stops in his tracks. They’re close to the temple now, only twenty or so steps from the gate.
Hua Cheng stops only a few steps ahead, before turning back to Xie Lian and looking at him with narrowed eyes. He links his hands behind his back and leans forward a little so that he’s right at eye level with Xie Lian. “Do they work? The palace is devoid of any children, so why accept them if they don’t work?”
Xie Lian is sure his face is crimson. “We’ve, ah… we haven’t tried them yet. Things are still so busy, you know, and, um…” This unfiltered Hua Cheng wants to know why they don’t have kids? Xie Lian, after seeing the occasional infant or child ghost, sometimes wonders the same himself, but he never brings it up. It’s never the right time.
Now it’s too late.
Xie Lian clears his throat. “We mostly just take them to humor your subjects.”
Hua Cheng’s expression is one of revulsion. “And when did I ever care how they feel?”
Xie Lian sighs. Hua Cheng, before they met, didn’t care– it was only after marrying Xie Lian that he even went to his own birthday festivals that the residents of Ghost City threw for him.
“You know…” Xie Lian says as they open the gate to the temple, “This is a private temple, and the exception, but in the mortal world we’re worshipped together. Now, in Ghost City, we reign together.”
Hua Cheng raises an eyebrow. “Worshipped?” He gives a little laugh as they approach the temple’s doorway. “I’m not worshipped, except maybe by weird cults.”
“You are,” Xie Lian says, smiling. “We have quite a few temples now, all across the south and even some in the north!”
Hua Cheng looks at him strangely as they enter the temple before his attention is drawn to the altar.
Xie Lian had cleaned up here since the last time they had calligraphy practice, and it looks like any normal temple. It’s filled with glowing paper lanterns, bowls of fruit and buns and pastries, and a beautifully lacquered wooden altar– all gifts from Hua Cheng.
Hua Cheng doesn’t seem to have looked at any of it. He’s staring at the giant painting of Xie Lian, hung from the highest rafter above and behind the altar. “I painted that?” he asks, his voice brusque.
“Yes,” Xie Lian says. Years ago, when he had first been in this temple, it had been a portrait of him as Taizi Dianxia, the Flower-Crowned Martial God. It had hung there since the temple had been built, Hua Cheng confessed, and he refreshed the colors every few years to keep it looking vibrant. Now, in its place, is a portrait of Xie Lian in equal finery, but it’s markedly different– this one is of him in his wedding clothes, holding a sword and a flower in his hands. The red string is on his finger and the ring is around his neck, and there are silver butterflies perched in his hair and on his red robes. “It’s a pretty recent work. You painted it right after our wedding.”
“I can tell it’s my work,” Hua Cheng says, looking down at his hands briefly before turning his gaze back to the painting. “I can’t remember painting it.”
They take a seat on the cushions in front of the altar. Xie Lian has never liked his followers to kneel, but sitting is a different matter, and he and Hua Cheng often sit on the floor when they come here.
“I’m going to be honest with you, San–Hua Cheng,” Xie Lian says. “This temple is more than a century old. You have told me many times that I’m the reason you never faded, and that I’m the reason you had so much conviction to become a Devastation-level ghost.”
“I don’t remember you,” is all Hua Cheng can say. He’s still looking at the painting in front of them.
“It must be a curse,” Xie Lian says, his eyebrows furrowing. “That’s– it’s okay if you don’t believe me. I think that the curse must be shallow, or not too powerful, because if it was… you would have faded by now.”
Hua Cheng stares at him, wide-eyed.
“There’s a reason I was wearing your ashes,” Xie Lian continues. He forces down the lump in his throat as he thinks about how empty he feels, at how his neck feels so light without the overwhelming, wonderful weight of his husband’s life hanging down from it. “You wouldn’t trust anyone else with them. I understand that you don’t know that, and I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing to me?” Hua Cheng says, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t know what I did,” Xie Lian says, and tears spring into his eyes. “It must have been something I did because you always have good luck. You must have unknowingly taken a curse for me or something. I don’t know.”
“If it’s shallow, then it can probably be removed easily,” Hua Cheng reasons. “I don’t know why I would want it removed, because I don’t know you, but you’re welcome to try to break it nonetheless.”
Xie Lian sniffs and rubs at his eyes before he nods. “I’m going to speak to some people who might be able to help us. And after that, before we go back to Paradise Manor, would you like to explore the temple a little more?”
Hua Cheng cocks his head. “What is there to see?”
Xie Lian smiles. “There’s more artwork in the other room and a beautiful garden out back.”
Hua Cheng nods. He doesn’t look very excited, but Xie Lian will take what he can get. “Sure, then.”
-
They use a distance-shortening array to get back to Paradise Manor. When they arrive in the front hall, Mu Qing and Feng Xin are already there waiting for them. Xie Lian had used his communication array to tell them to come– not telling them why so that they wouldn’t tell anyone in Heaven– and told Yin Yu to let them in. Yin Yu is nowhere to be seen when they step out of the array.
Hua Cheng is not pleased to see two Heavenly officials in his foyer, to say the least. Mu Qing and Feng Xin are huddled together, glancing around at the large entrance hall, only relaxing a little when they make eye contact with Xie Lian.
“You,” Hua Cheng says, narrowing his eye at Mu Qing, taking a step forward.
“Ah, you… you remember Mu Qing?” Xie Lian’s stomach drops. They talked more in the temple, and Hua Cheng doesn’t remember most of his own life; all he has are blurry memories and convenient replacements meant to fill in where Xie Lian has been taken out. He doesn’t have a single memory of Xie Lian, so much so that the last 800 years are foggy, and yet he remembers Mu Qing of all people?
Xie Lian tries not to let this get to him, but he can tell it shows on his face by Feng Xin’s alarmed expression.
“Of course, I remember this ingrate,” Hua Cheng scoffs as if Xie Lian is asking a stupid question. “He got me kicked out of the army in Xianle.”
Ah. Mu Qing and Hua Cheng have argued about this before. Hua Cheng has complained about it to Xie Lian before, and Xie Lian has soothed him before– if Mu Qing hadn’t done that, perhaps Hua Cheng would have died in training, and he would never be where he is today. They’ve mostly moved past it, with Xie Lian’s help– but, of course, Hua Cheng doesn’t remember moving past it.
“Did he hurt you, Xie Lian?” Mu Qing asks. He already looks pissed off, and he’s got his arms crossed in a way that means he’s not going to be dealing with anything more than he wants to today. “You’re crying.”
“No, no,” Xie Lian insists, wiping at his eyes quickly. “He didn’t make me cry. I’m crying because he’s hurt, okay?”
“I’m not hurt,” Hua Cheng supplies quickly.
“I…” Xie Lian takes a deep breath so he doesn’t snap back at him– yes, you are hurt because you’re my husband and now you don’t even remember me– “Shall we talk outside?”
“Sure,” Feng Xin says. He is a little more easy-going in front of Hua Cheng than Mu Qing is, even if it’s not by much.
They take their business to the courtyard, and Xie Lian watches as the door closes behind them before he starts speaking.
“I think San Lang got cursed,” Xie Lian says. “He woke up and he doesn’t remember me.”
“What?” Feng Xin asks, at the same time Mu Qing scoffs and asks, “Cursed?”
Xie Lian nods, wiping at his eyes again. “It’s true. He… he can acknowledge that we’re married because there’s so much evidence, but he doesn’t remember anything. Really.”
“Xie Lian, are you sure he isn’t just playing some sort of cruel joke?” Feng Xin asks, his gaze sliding over to Mu Qing.
Xie Lian huffs. “He wouldn’t! This is serious, you two. Yin Yu even checked him out. He seriously has no memory of me, ever. Not even from Xianle.”
Mu Qing balks. “Really? How… How does he acknowledge your marriage, then?”
Xie Lian lists out the evidence quickly. “All of my stuff is in the bedroom he woke up in, and I’m wearing our red string of fate and his ashes around my neck. He was alarmed when he woke up and grabbed E-Ming to defend himself, but E-Ming refused to point itself at me because it recognizes me, so it must not have been cursed along with him.”
“He raised that cursed blade at you?” Mu Qing nearly shouts.
“Calm down,” Xie Lian exclaims. “Wouldn’t you do the same if a strange man walked into your bed chamber? I had just come in from making breakfast and I scared him. Besides, E-Ming would never hurt me. And Yin Yu recognized me as well, and he remembered Yin Yu perfectly fine. Plus…” Xie Lian trails off, his cheeks going red.
“Plus what?” Feng Xin asks.
“He could feel his own spiritual energy in my body,” Xie Lian says, turning his gaze to the ground as Mu Qing chokes on his own spit. “He knew, then.”
“I… I see,” Feng Xin says, with an awkward cough.
“Yin Yu and I have deduced it’s most likely a curse that’s just affecting his memory shallowly or conditionally. If it was a deep curse, he would…” Xie Lian trails off, barely able to stomach the thought. “Well, San Lang only stayed alive all those years by thinking of me. If he no longer had me, he would have faded out of existence. So, Yin Yu thinks his memories are just locked away until the curse can be broken.”
“Right,” Mu Qing says. “So, what do you need us to do?”
“First, I can’t possibly go up to the Heavens until this is resolved,” Xie Lian says. “Being worshiped together is how we draw power, so who knows what effect this will have on him? It’s better if I stay here for the time being. Do you think you can cover for me?”
Feng Xin nods. “Of course.”
Xie Lian sighs. “Also, we have an expansive library, but Ling Wen has far more knowledge than I ever will. Do you think if you have some free time, you could look into curses that affect memories about one specific person?”
Mu Qing nods. “We can do that.” He frowns. “It would have been better to take his memories of me. Then at least he might be cordial.”
Xie Lian is so surprised and, frankly, exhausted that he can’t help but laugh. “If only I were that lucky.”
-
“What did they want?” Hua Cheng’s voice is downright venomous when Xie Lian steps back inside. He's waiting only a few feet from the door like he had been waiting for Xie Lian to enter.
“They’re going to help look for an answer,” Xie Lian says carefully, “to our predicament.”
This seems to satisfy Hua Cheng, who grunts noncommittally. “You really are a god, to extract such a deal out of those wretches.”
Xie Lian fixes on Hua Cheng with a sharp gaze, before he closes his eyes and sighs.
𑁍
He Xuan arrives a few hours later, filling the sitting room with salty air and a slight lingering odor of dead fish. Xie Lian meets with him alone; Hua Cheng has gone to preside over the Gambler’s Den, and he doesn’t like it very much when He Xuan is in his house even when Xie Lian is there as a peacemaker.
Xie Lian fills him in quickly but intensely. He tells them their last locations; they had been hunting that water demon, which is the only instance Xie Lian can think of that might have resulted in a curse. He Xuan is the best equipped to deal with water demons out of everyone he knows, which comforts Xie Lian a little; He Xuan is also well-read and knowledgeable about curses and spirits, which comforts him even more.
He Xuan is also strangely cordial to him, which Xie Lian is wary of but accepts nonetheless. He nods quietly when Xie Lian tells him everything and accepts without complaint the map Xie Lian gives him with their last locations circled.
“Why are you being so nice?” Xie Lian asks when He Xuan stands to leave. He has promised information within a day.
He Xuan stares at him for a few seconds, then shrugs. His silver eyes are piercing, but right now they just seem rather… bored. “Dealing with Crimson Rain before you were here was a nightmare. Since your marriage, he has become more… tolerable.” He tucks the map into his robes. “I can’t have him go back to that. He forgives my debt so easily now.”
Xie Lian sighs with a little laugh. “Of course. Well, if you help him now I’m sure he’ll be amenable to being nicer to you in the future.”
He Xuan’s brow furrow. “If I don’t help and he somehow gets cured, and he finds out I didn’t help, woe be to me if he finds my ashes.”
Xie Lian’s slight smile drops. “Ah, he wouldn’t do that.” He bites his lip nervously. “I wouldn’t let him do that, He-xiong.”
He Xuan’s eyes widen a little at the nickname, but he bows a little before turning to the distance shortening array left over from his arrival. “I’ll see what I can find out, Dianxia.”
-
Hua Cheng is present the next time He Xuan is in Paradise Manor and, just like he was with Feng Xin and Mu Qing, he isn’t pleased.
“I didn’t realize that other Calamities could just waltz right in without my permission,” he says, as he makes no moves to hurt He Xuan or punish Xie Lian in any way for allowing him in.
“He-xiong, thank you for coming,” Xie Lian says politely, and both Calamities startle at the nickname. “Hua Cheng, Black Water Sinking Ships is our best bet to find out who cursed you. The last demon we dealt with before coming back to Ghost City was a water demon, so I called him in to ask him to help us.”
“Since when were we friends?” Hua Cheng hisses.
“Since I decided that you should have more friends,” Xie Lian says, at the same time He Xuan says, “We’re not friends.”
Xie Lian and Hua Cheng both watch, albeit with different expressions, as He Xuan takes a disgustingly large bite of the noodles in front of him. He takes a few moments to chew it all and swallow it before he clears his throat.
“It seems you messed with a priestess of Shuimu,” He Xuan says. “A water spirit.”
“When?” Xie Lian asks.
Hua Cheng leans back in his chair. “There are no nature spirits in Ghost City.”
“When you two killed the water demon, a few days ago.” He Xuan says. “I tracked your last movements, and met it there.”
“But we killed that water demon,” Xie Lian says, his brow furrowing.
He Xuan shakes his head. “The spirit of the lake still lives there. She said she had nothing to do with the demon, but when you lit the shore of the lake on fire to kill the demon, you harmed her and her animals.”
Hua Cheng scoffs. “I’m sorry, her animals?”
He Xuan nods. “Her pair of prized mandarin ducks. They were partially immortal and, ah, quite expensive.” He takes a long slurp of his noodles. “You specifically killed only one of them. That’s what she’s angry about.”
“Not that I believe any of this, but taking all my memories of my spouse hardly seems an appropriate punishment for killing a duck,” Hua Cheng says. He looks doubtful of the entire thing.
“Mandarin ducks…” Xie Lian’s heart drops. “It is an appropriate punishment, San Lang. You’re an artist. Don’t you know what mandarin ducks represent?”
Hua Cheng’s face falls, and Xie Lian knows he’s realized it too. Since the time he was a child, Xie Lian has been taught that a pair of mandarin ducks are the ultimate symbol of love and fidelity, a pair of animals that don’t have the souls or consciousness of humans yet stay with the same mate their entire lives like they’re actual lovers. He’s heard stories of how they’ll die if separated.
They had killed one of the ducks, and now this water spirit has taken away Hua Cheng’s love for Xie Lian.
He Xuan isn’t as stricken as Xie Lian feels. “She was quite angry,” he says, his mouth half-full. “She couldn’t hurt me, so it’s obvious she wouldn’t be able to hurt you. It seems this curse was the best she could do.”
Hua Cheng rises. “I’ll buy her a new set, then. A better set.”
Xie Lian stays where he’s sitting. “I don’t think that will work,” he says softly. He knows it won’t. He can already tell where this is going.
“Why don’t we just kill her?” Hua Cheng says. “Then her curse will end.”
He Xuan shakes his head. “These kinds of curses never end with the death of the caster. You always have to solve their riddle or ride it out.” He Xuan’s eyes slide to Hua Cheng’s untouched bowl. “Can I have that?” Xie Lian slides Hua Cheng’s bowl to him.
“Whatever,” Hua Cheng says. “I’m going find ducks for her replacements. See if she won’t break it then with me breathing down her neck.”
He storms out of the room, leaving He Xuan staring at Xie Lian with his dull grey eyes as he slurps up more noodles.
“So… what was her riddle about?” Xie Lian says, coughing uncomfortably. Even after years of knowing each other, Xie Lian thinks he can count the number of times he’s been alone with He Xuan on one hand.
“The riddle seems to mean that all he has to do is fall in love with you again, and then he’ll get his memories back,” He Xuan says.
“Oh.” Xie Lian sits back and looks down at his hands. He needs to cut his nails. Interesting. “Hmm.”
“Is that such a problem?” He Xuan looks bored. “Just do what you did the first time.”
Xie Lian thinks back to Xianle when he had caught little Hong-er, when Hong-er had begged in his temples for protection, when he had died on the battlefield for him. He thinks of how Wu Ming had donned that smiling mask and taken on all those spirits for him, had survived Mt. Tonglu and become the Crimson Rain Sought Flower of today– all because he was in love with Xie Lian.
“I’m afraid I wouldn’t exactly be able to repeat that,” Xie Lian says mournfully. “It will be much harder this time around.”
“Why?”
Xie Lian sighs. “I’m assuming Hua Cheng never told you how we really met?” He Xuan shakes his head. “It’s quite a long story. To put it shortly, doing it the same as the first time would involve me as a mortal, him as a child soldier, being in Xianle, Land of the Tender flower demons, and… I don’t know, a thousand other circumstances, including the human-face disease and Bai Wuxiang making reappearances.”
He Xuan stares at him, wide-eyed. He coughs a little, before slurping up the rest of his noodles and swallowing loudly. “I think, perhaps, you should find another way to make him fall in love with you. One that doesn’t involve a pandemic and Jun Wu.”
Xie Lian laughs, a joyless little thing. “I think so, too.”
-
Hua Cheng does not succeed in intimidating the Shuimu priestess into removing the curse, nor does he win her over with the most expensive pair of mandarin ducks he could find– stolen out of the garden of a mortal emperor in some faraway kingdom, one who definitely wouldn’t be able to put a curse on him.
He seems unbothered by it– after all, the curse is on him, but it doesn’t affect him.
Xie Lian, who had already resigned himself to it not working, watches as his Ghost King continues business as usual, with no mind to how Xie Lian’s heart aches.
𑁍
Xie Lian and Hua Cheng learn to live with each other. Xie Lian moves into the guest chambers– his original chambers, the ones he had used before they had gotten married and he had boldly asked to move into Hua Cheng’s bedroom.
It’s still stocked with sets upon sets of robes, and the bathroom is still lined with expensive soaps and soft towels. Hua Cheng had never changed anything about it; he was always adamant that Xie Lian should be able to sleep wherever he liked, but Xie Lian had dismissed that as nothing more than his husband’s deep-seated insecurity and had never gone into the bedroom after he had moved out of it.
Now, he’s a little grateful that Hua Cheng had made sure of its upkeep. He’s not sure if Hua Cheng would give him robes or nice soap now.
They speak to each other during the day, a little more than sparingly. Xie Lian had become entrenched in the running of Ghost City– Yin Yu was overworked, and Xie Lian hated being in Heaven more than he had to, so he had convinced the Heavenly Officials that it was better for him to help run Ghost City more than he be involved in heavenly affairs. Hua Cheng was insistent that Xie Lian needed to do nothing more than whatever he wanted, but he also delighted in making Heaven uncomfortable.
The truth was that Xie Lian didn’t mind doing endless paperwork or sitting in the Gambler’s Den– it had been time spent with his husband, so it was all worthwhile. Now, with Hua Cheng barely even acknowledging him as more than someone who also inhabits the manor, it feels like he’s doing everything for nothing.
The paperwork, at least, had served one purpose– Hua Cheng had seen Xie Lian’s neat handwriting across numerous expense reports and import documents and acknowledged that yes, Xie Lian was someone he must have trusted because he would never let just anyone run his precious city. He lets Xie Lian continue working, and Xie Lian is grateful to have something to do.
One evening, while they’re doing paperwork together– side-by-side, without speaking a word to each other– Hua Cheng’s stomach rumbles. It’s a sound Xie Lian hasn’t heard from him in a long time.
Hua Cheng raises his fingers to his head, probably to call for Yin Yu, before Xie Lian throws out an arm. “Wait!” he exclaims.
Hua Cheng lowers his hand, looking at him suspiciously. “Yes?”
“I can cook something for you!”
Hua Cheng looks surprised, but he nods. “Sure.”
Xie Lian leaves him to do more work for a while and heads to the kitchen to make one of Hua Cheng’s favorites– oxtail and lotus soup. He adds onions and carrots, just the way Hua Cheng likes, and even remembers to skim off the froth from the top the way Hua Cheng had suggested the last time he had made this.
When it’s almost done, he adds all his seasonings, and then takes it off the fire and fetches Hua Cheng from his office.
Sometimes they eat their meals in the grand dining room in the manor, but most of the time, when Xie Lian is cooking, they prefer to eat it in the kitchen at the little table in the corner of the room. Hua Cheng briefly curls up his lip when he enters to see that Xie Lian has set up a place for him at this table, but he speaks no word of protest and takes a seat.
He sets a bowl in front of Hua Cheng and quickly returns to the pot, setting it back on the fire. “That’s just for you to taste,” he says, as Hua Cheng looks down at his bowl with a confused look; it’s nearly empty, with only about two spoonfuls in it. “Tell me if I should add anything else.”
He watches carefully as Hua Cheng brings a spoon to his lips, blowing on it slightly before sipping from the spoon and swallowing.
Hua Cheng coughs and gags a little.
Xie Lian’s smile fades. “What’s wrong?”
Hua Cheng sets down his spoon, his lip upturned in an expression of disgust. “Much too salty,” he says, pushing the bowl away from him. “It’s like drinking ocean water.”
“I see,” Xie Lian says, turning away quickly so that Hua Cheng can’t see his eyes welling with tears. “I’m sorry.”
He turns to the pot, picking up the pepper to add some and hopefully balance out the flavors, before Hua Cheng interrupts him. “Don’t put more pepper in. Either way, it’s unsalvageable at this point.”
“Right,” Xie Lian says, and before he can stop himself he sniffles.
He knows his cooking is bad. He could stand to be better at it, he knows– Feng Xin and Mu Qing have told him a thousand times already. But Hua Cheng, his dear, lovely husband, has never once complained about his cooking; he asks for seconds at every meal and makes a show of scraping the bowl and slurping, even going as far as to brag to others about how good Xie Lian’s cooking is. It’s a show of his love, his devotion, that he will never turn away something Xie Lian gives to him.
Xie Lian claps a hand over his mouth to muffle any other sounds and stays facing the pot, but the damage is done. Behind him, he can hear feet shuffle.
Hua Cheng touches his shoulder and Xie Lian flinches away from his touch. “Sorry!” he exclaims, blinking rapidly to try to expel the tears from his eyes before Hua Cheng can see them. “I’m sorry. Allergies,” he tacks on lamely, forcing himself to relax his shoulders.
“What’s wrong?” Hua Cheng asks. He’s so close that Xie Lian can smell the rosemary oil he uses in his hair. Gods.
“Nothing is wrong,” Xie Lian grits out, picking up the ladle. “I’ll throw it away and call Yin Yu to make something for you.”
Hua Cheng is silent for a moment. “Have I offended you?” he asks. He sounds genuinely worried.
“No,” Xie Lian says, letting the hand holding the ladle fall limply. He can’t blame Hua Cheng, he decides, even if it makes him miserable. Hua Cheng pretends to like his food out of love, and now that love is gone. “I just… made it just the way you usually like it. But it’s fine. What would you like to eat?”
Hua Cheng is quiet for a moment. “I don’t actually need to eat.”
Xie Lian sets the ladle down and waves his hand over the stove. The soup and all the kitchenware disappear with a small burst of spiritual energy. “Okay, then.” Xie Lian steps away from Hua Cheng and wipes his hands on one of the rags hanging on the wall. “I’ll be in my room, then, if you need me.”
Hua Cheng watches him leave, silently.
-
Xie Lian will never admit it to anyone, but he nearly cries himself to sleep that night.
Wooing Hua Cheng has proved to be harder than he thought. Of course, it would be. He didn’t do anything the first time besides… exist. That had been enough, back then, and this time it’s not.
He can see why. Back then, Hong-er had nothing. Xie Lian had been a shining prince, a god, an ideal. Every kid looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky, and Hua Cheng had just been the chief among them.
Now, Hua Cheng is the one with all the power. He rules a kingdom with an iron fist, he can take down any god or man, and he has more wealth than Xie Lian did when he was a prince.
What is Xie Lian? Even after defeating Jun Wu, he’s still not taken as seriously as he was when he ascended the first time. He’s a forgotten god, only powerful again because he’s worshipped alongside a Calamity.
He’s not good at seduction. Even after all these years, he still gets flustered and nervous, even if he’s an eager participant in their nightly activities once they get going. Besides, this Hua Cheng would never let him get close, and they don’t even sleep in the same room anymore. He had clammed up at just the mention of the childbearing pills.
He tried cooking. That was a disaster; he should have seen that coming. He’s not sure what else he can do; this Hua Cheng is so fierce and so guarded, that anything Xie Lian could do that could make his Hua Cheng melt into a puddle– wash his hair and brush it out for him, paint with him, spar with him and let him win and end up on top of him, garden with him… this Hua Cheng would never do these things.
He can’t win Hua Cheng over with power and wealth, or with sex, or with his skills. He’s failing at everything he tries.
Xie Lian is almost asleep when there’s a soft knock at his door. He sits up, rubbing at his eyes, and makes a noise of assent. “Yin Yu?” he asks. Yin Yu, ever the quiet but loyal friend, had seen him tearfully fleeing down the hallway after the dinner fiasco and had given him a look that said he would get around to talking to him soon.
“It’s me,” Hua Cheng’s voice says from outside the door.
“Oh,” Xie Lian says. He pulls back covers back around himself, tucking himself in tighter until only his mouth, nose and eyes are above it. “You can come in.”
Hua Cheng enters quietly. “I hope I didn’t wake you up,” he says, taking a few steps inside the room before he closes the door softly behind him. With no candles lit, only the moonlight streaming in from Xie Lian’s open curtains frames him, washing out his robes until they appear a deep purple instead of red.
Xie Lian can’t bring himself to lie. “I wasn’t asleep yet.”
Hua Cheng takes another step, before rocking back on his foot nervously. He’s dressed down, more casual than Xie Lian has seen him this entire time, except for that first morning. He must have been getting ready to spend his evening in the bedroom– Xie Lian can’t imagine him sleeping, because that’s something he only does because Xie Lian does it. “Can I ask you some questions?” he asks.
Xie Lian sits up. “Sure,” he says, curiously. He pulls himself out of bed, before making his way over to the sitting area and taking a seat. “Take a seat.”
He pours himself a cup of tea from the teapot on the table. It had been one of his favorite birthday gifts from Hua Cheng, a teapot charmed to never be empty or cold. He had taken it from their shared bedroom when he had moved into these guest chambers.
“Aren’t you going to offer me any?” Hua Cheng says, raising an eyebrow as he takes a seat next to Xie Lian at the low table.
Xie Lian smiles. “You don’t like tea very much,” Xie Lian says. “Besides, we don’t have any sugar here.” He disapproved of Hua Cheng’s tendency to drown out the flavor of any tea he drank with copious amounts of sugar, but he was willing to indulge his husband’s sweet tooth, especially since it made him taste so sweet.
Hua Cheng leans back, shoulders dropping. “How do you know that?”
Xie Lian sets his cup down before even taking a sip. “I’m your husband,” he says lightly. “I know everything about you.”
Hua Cheng is silent for a moment. “Why are we worshipped together?”
Xie Lian taps his chin in thought. “It’s usually not to get on your bad side. Of course, they worship you as a sort of… god of luck. But it’s well-known that your mood varies, so sometimes you give out bad luck.”
“I don’t answer prayers,” Hua Cheng says, lip curling.
“You did,” Xie Lian says. “Nowadays, the mortals say to worship me too so that you’re always in a good mood, so then you’ll make sure to give them good luck.”
“Nowadays?” Hua Cheng asks.
Xie Lian smiles. “It’s a little anecdotal,” he agrees. “Originally, our joint temples were built to celebrate our marriage. I am a martial god, after all! But I think the newer reason is sweeter. Your citizens do say that you’re always nicer when I preside over Gambler’s Den with you.”
“Our marriage…” Hua Cheng says. He places both of his hands on the lacquered table. Xie Lian’s heart skips a beat when he realizes that Hua Cheng hasn’t removed his red string, but he quickly banishes the hopefulness from his mind. It’s a useful spiritual device, he thinks, meant to know where Xie Lian is; he wouldn’t want a strange man running around his house either. “When did we decide to get married?”
Xie Lian looks down at his bare feet, curled underneath him. It’s been years since he’s seen a cursed shackle on anyone, but he can still remember what his own looked like on his ankle. “Do you remember defeating Jun Wu?”
Hua Cheng nods, then tilts his head. “It’s foggy, in my head. I can’t really explain it. I can remember it, but it’s as if big chunks of it are missing.”
Xie Lian nods. “Well, I was very involved, and since you can’t remember me…” he sighs. “Anyways, in the end, you used your spiritual power to break my cursed shackles.”
“You had cursed shackles?” Hua Cheng asks, stiffening.
“Two,” Xie Lian says, nodding. “For hundreds of years. Only you were strong enough to break them, but you lost your physical form. I… I thought I lost you, that day.” Xie Lian’s voice cracks, and he looks away, blinking rapidly so that his eyes don’t begin to water. Hua Cheng hadn’t been sympathetic when he cried earlier, so he won’t give him a reason to be unkind now. “I knew I didn’t, really, but it was so hard. You burst into a million little silver butterflies, right in front of me. I had your ashes so I knew you would come back, but I didn’t know how long it would take.”
Hua Cheng is silent for a moment, before shifting uneasily. “I don’t remember any of this.”
“When you could take physical form again, it had been a year,” Xie Lian continues. “I was waiting for you at our cottage on Mount Taicang. When you came back, I was… I was overcome. We promised to never leave each other again.” Xie Lian really does shed a tear now. He turns his face, looking at the fireplace so that Hua Cheng can’t see him. “We stayed there for a while. When we came back, we decided to get married, so we would truly never be separated again.”
Hua Cheng is silent.
“We wore red.” Xie Lian laughs a little. “Well, you always wear red. The city threw a huge celebration for us, but it was just a private little ceremony. We took our bows in Qiandeng Temple, with Yin Yu as our witness. My, uh… the Heavenly Court was a little angry that we didn’t have a bigger wedding, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”
“What are you going to do if I don’t get my memories back?” Hua Cheng asks. His voice is soft, and sympathetic now. It holds no malice, no mirth– only sorrow, and what sounds like guilt.
Xie Lian bites his lip. “I don’t know,” he says.
It’s the truth. He really doesn’t know what he'll do. He doesn't even know if he’ll be able to handle Hua Cheng leaving him again.
So many people in his life have left him. His parents. His entire kingdom, all his believers. Feng Xin and Mu Qing. All through it, he’s had one constant, even when he didn’t know it– Hong’er, Wu Ming, San Lang, Hua Cheng. His most devoted believer, his beloved. If Hua Cheng truly never loved him again, what meaning did his life have?
Hua Cheng called him the reason for his existence. Nowadays, Xie Lian believes the opposite is true. After suffering for so long, he had finally tasted the happiness of simply living and breathing in the light of another person. Hua Cheng is half of his soul, the soul he had once no longer believed himself to own.
He doesn’t really know how he can die but– in the end, he’ll find a way to make it happen. Now that Hua Cheng no longer believes in him, it won’t be as hard to make himself disappear from the minds of mortals and truly, finally, disappear.
“I’m not sure,” he says, with finality.
He really isn’t.
Maybe Hua Cheng can sense that he is going to a dark place in his own mind because he changes the conversation.
“What did we do together?” Hua Cheng looks around the room. “Since we’re married, we must do things every day.”
Xie Lian hesitates. “We…” he remembers how Hua Cheng had frozen up at the mention of childbearing pills and decides to keep it appropriate. “We travel a lot. We get a lot of prayers about spirits and demons affecting different areas, so we take care of those.”
Hua Cheng sits back against the divan. “And when we’re in Ghost City?”
Xie Lian takes a sip of his tea. “Lots of things. We garden. Sparring is my favorite. I’m not in the Heavens so much anymore, so we preside over the Gambling Den together often now. We cook together, paint, and have calligraphy practice.”
Hua Cheng’s eyebrows fly up. “Calligraphy practice?”
Xie Lian smiles. “I wish I could say you were improving. Most of the time it’s a battle to not let you distract me by– ah, we also enjoy reading together.” Xie Lian wills his face not to turn red. “At night, we usually brush each other’s hair out.”
Hua Cheng looks strangely lost in thought. “I see,” he murmurs. “Can I– can we do that?”
“Calligraphy practice?” Xie Lian asks, confused. “Right now?”
Hua Cheng shakes his head. “Brush each other’s hair.”
Xie Lian’s heart leaps in his chest. “If you would like.”
They sit on the divan, after Xie Lian fetches the brush and combs, along with the hair oils, from his vanity.
Hua Cheng brushes out his hair very slowly. Xie Lian hasn’t brushed his hair in a few days; he hasn’t had the motivation for it. Hua Cheng is gentle, much gentler than Xie Lian would have expected him to be, and he starts with only his fingers to work out some of the larger knots.
“In the beginning, when I first woke up,” Hua Cheng says into the silence of the room. “Yin Yu said I searched for you for centuries. What did he mean?”
“We were separated for a long time, after the fall of Xianle,” Xie Lian says. “And… well, it’s a long story, but eventually we met again. You had been searching for me for a long time, but I was cursed with misfortune. Even your good luck couldn’t overpower mine, so you always missed me.”
“How did I find you, then?” Hua Cheng braces Xie Lian’s head as he works through a tough tangle so that he doesn’t pull Xie Lian’s scalp.
Xie Lian smiles. “That’s… also kind of a long story. I had just ascended as a god again, and He Xuan was serving as a spy in the Heavenly Court. He must have told you where I was going to be when I descended. I went to work on a mission, one where a ghost was capturing brides on their way to their weddings, and you showed up.”
“Showed up?” Hua Cheng’s voice is curious but doubtful. “What does that mean?”
“I… I was dressed as a bride,” Xie Lian says, laughing a little. “It sounds silly now. I was trying to lure the ghost out to capture me, so I dressed as a bride. You brought me out of the bridal sedan and crushed the ghost’s array to lead me right to her. I didn’t even know who you were at the time. All I knew was that you helped me with the mission.
“A few days later, you disguised yourself as a youth and we met on the back of an ox cart. You told me you were just going wherever and didn’t have a place to stay, so I invited you to stay with me in my shrine. It was very run down at the time, but you helped fix it up and even made me a portrait of the Crown Prince of Xianle to hang up there.”
Hua Cheng has moved from his fingers to the wider comb to the brush by now.
“It was so obvious by then that you weren’t a youth,” Xie Lian says. His husband rarely took the form of the original San Lang anymore, but Xie Lian can still picture the youth clearly. “No one normal that age would have remembered what I looked like in such vivid detail. But I let you keep pretending. It was only when we went to Banyue Pass and truly got into a battle that I knew for sure who you were.”
“Oh?” Hua Cheng asks, mirth in his voice. “And were you scared?”
“Why would I be?” Xie Lian asks, perfectly truthful.
Hua Cheng stiffens. The brush in his hair falters just for a second before resuming its usual pace. “Surely everyone in Heaven must have told you about me. The Crimson Rain Sought Flower, Scourge of the Heavens.”
“Yes, everyone else warned me about you,” Xie Lian says softly. “But why would I care? If you were really so dangerous, you would have hurt me the minute you saw me. Instead, you only helped me, and protected me.” Xie Lian smiles. “Of course, San Lang had his reasons, but I didn’t know that. What did it cost to be kind to him? You had never wronged me in the past.”
Hua Cheng brushes through the last of his hair, and he sets the brush down on the table with a clunk. “I think you’re too trusting.”
“Am I?” Xie Lian smiles. “Perhaps you are, too. You invited me into Paradise Manor not even a few weeks later, and I ended up burning almost all of it to the ground. You didn’t even care.”
“I don’t remember doing that,” Hua Cheng says defensively. Xie Lian can hear the sound of oil being rubbed between his palms before Hua Cheng’s fingers start massaging it into his scalp.
Xie Lian laughs. “There are a million times when you’ve been too trusting with me, Hua Cheng. The least I could do was return it in full. Besides, it costs nothing to be kind to a youth on an ox cart, or a bridegroom offering me his hand and an umbrella to shield me from the rain.”
Hua Cheng is quiet. It seems he has no argument for Xie Lian’s insistence.
“Is it my turn?” Xie Lian asks.
“Yes,” Hua Cheng says. His voice is strangely light. Xie Lian hasn’t heard this soft of a tone from him in weeks.
They switch places on the divan. Xie Lian’s hair feels so nice, and his heart stings a little knowing this might be the last time Hua Cheng ever brushes his hair.
Hua Cheng shivers when Xie Lian’s fingers run through his hair. Xie Lian bites his lip lightly, willing himself to not make a noise.
“We used to do this almost every night.” Xie Lian finds himself speaking without meaning to, but he doesn’t stop himself. “I missed doing it. You have such pretty hair.”
His fingers don’t catch on any large tangles, so he picks up the comb and begins to work through it carefully. When he catches on a small tangle, he balances the comb between his fingers and works it out gently, before going back to combing through.
“You don’t have to be so gentle,” Hua Cheng says brusquely, fidgeting in his seat a little.
“I don’t have to,” Xie Lian agrees, his voice no louder than a murmur. “I want to. San Lang should be treated with care.”
They finish in silence; the crackling of the fire is the only sound in the room. Xie Lian oils Hua Cheng's hair with his preferred rosemary oil and braids it into a simple three-strand braid, tying it off at the end and giving his back a little pat.
Hua Cheng is stiff, sitting as rigidly as he has been the entire time, and he turns and looks at Xie Lian with wide eyes.
“You’re all done,” Xie Lian says softly. He reaches out and tucks a loose strand of Hua Cheng’s bangs, too short to fit in the braid, behind his pointed ear. “Looks nice.”
Hua Cheng reaches out, pulls Xie Lian towards him by the front of his robes, and kisses him.
It’s soft, nothing like Xie Lian would expect from this Hua Cheng, but still intense. He lets the feeling of Hua Cheng’s lips against his, his cool lips, slide over him before he realizes what’s happening.
Xie Lian pulls back, wiping his lips quickly with one hand and forcing his eyes downward. “Don’t force yourself to–”
He’s cut off by Hua Cheng gasping. He feels Hua Cheng’s muscles shift under the hand on his bicep, and he knows this feeling– it’s Hua Cheng shifting forms.
When he looks up, he nearly cries out in relief. Hua Cheng’s form is his usual form, not the one he’s been wearing for weeks.
“Gege,” he says, and his voice is insisting, desperate, as he falls forward and presses his forehead into Xie Lian’s neck. “Gege, gege, I’m so sorry…”
“San Lang,” Xie Lian says, and he can’t stop his own tears. He cradles Hua Cheng’s head to him, pulling his whole body closer until the larger man is nearly in his lap. “San Lang, what?”
Hua Cheng doesn’t speak, but he keeps making horrible keening noises into Xie Lian’s neck.
Xie Lian strokes his back slowly, his hand gliding over the soft silk of Hua Cheng’s night robes. “San Lang,” he says softly, sniffling as quietly as he can before he presses a smattering of kisses to the side of Hua Cheng’s head. “My San Lang, my love. Would you tell me why you’re so upset?”
Hua Cheng pulls back, always one to obey his god. There are tear tracks down his cheeks. “I… I could feel myself, in the back of my head. It’s hard to describe. My memories were there, my consciousness was there, but I couldn’t… I don’t know how to explain it.”
“It’s okay,” Xie Lian says, taking Hua Cheng’s face in his hands. “I understand. I’m so… I’m so happy you’re back.”
Hua Cheng nods. “I don’t… I don’t know how…”
“The curse,” Xie Lian starts, before looking away. “It took away your memories of your most beloved. He Xuan and I figured out that I would have to make you fall in love with me again to break it.”
Hua Cheng frowns as if he can’t believe someone would be able to take away the very core of his existence.
“What did I do?” Xie Lian asks through the wobble in his voice; he blinks, trying to get rid of the tears in his eyes. “To make you fall in love with me again?”
Hua Cheng runs his thumbs under Xie Lian’s eyes gently. “You didn’t have to do anything,” he says, voice so soft and full of adoration that a fresh wave of tears brims in Xie Lian’s eyes. “Gege, all you have to do is exist, and I will love you in any lifetime, with my memories or without them.”
Xie Lian throws his arms around Hua Cheng’s neck and sobs.
Hua Cheng lets him cry, holding him for a few minutes until his sobs fade into little puffs of air. He stays like that, breathing heavily into Hua Cheng’s neck.
“My San Lang,” he murmurs, his hands roaming up and down Hua Cheng’s back. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
He pulls back and smiles at Hua Cheng. He’s sure their faces match; Hua Cheng’s eye is puffy and rimmed with red, and his nose and cheeks are blushy from crying.
“Dianxia will have to punish me for insulting his cooking,” Hua Cheng bemoans, before shoving his face into the crook of Xie Lian’s shoulder. “And for not letting him sleep in our bedroom.”
“Ah, San Lang…” he smiles. “I understand that you needed space. It’s not your fault.”
Hua Cheng looks doubtful, but he nods. His hands come up to grip Xie Lian’s waist tighter.
“But… I do want my ring back,” Xie Lian says pointedly, clearing his throat. Hua Cheng pulls back, looking guilty. “And you should apologize for the cooking, yes.”
“Dianxia can cook me every meal for the next five years,” Hua Cheng says slyly. “This one will eat it without complaint.”
Xie Lian makes an affronted noise, and Hua Cheng laughs. “Not that long, San Lang!”
“As for my ashes…” Hua Cheng pulls back and holds out his hand. In an instant, a familiar diamond ring with a chain materializes in his palm. “I put them behind the maze in the manor, just as they were before I met you, but they're not as safe there as they are with you. I’m sorry for taking them from you.”
“San Lang!” Xie Lian tuts. He takes the necklace and loops it around his neck, carefully placing the ring against his heart under his robes before pulling Hua Cheng close to him again. “I understand why you did it. Please, don’t apologize anymore.”
“I have to,” Hua Cheng says. He sounds miserable, and Xie Lian decides he absolutely can’t have that.
He pulls Hua Cheng back just as suddenly as he had pulled him close, and the man looks at him with one wide eye. “San Lang, I’m serious. What if it had been me whose memories had been taken?” Xie Lian asks. “I would have reacted much more… violently.”
“Gege would have been in the right,” Hua Cheng says, before laughing a little. “Waking up in a strange room, with a strange man in your bed, full of ghost qi.”
Xie Lian smacks his arm. “San Lang!”
Hua Cheng laughs and falls back against the divan, taking Xie Lian with him. Cuddled up like this, he can feel that Hua Cheng has made his skin warm again– something he did only for Xie Lian, and something that Xie Lian had missed when Hua Cheng had changed. Even with the little touch they had shared, Hua Cheng was always ice cold.
“San Lang, I’m serious,” Xie Lian says. “No more apologizing. I’m just happy you’re back to normal.”
“Mm,” Hua Cheng says. “Gege should feel his ego soar now that he made me fall in love again.”
Xie Lian elects to ignore the teasing. “Now that we’ve brushed each other’s hair, should we retire for the night?”
Hua Cheng nods. “Of course. We’re both already dressed in sleeping robes anyway.”
Xie Lian smiles. “I was wondering why San Lang is dressed in sleeping robes if he doesn’t really sleep without me?”
Hua Cheng has the decency to look embarrassed. “Well, that imposter was planning to wheedle his way into gege’s bed one way or another. Why do you think he was letting you brush his hair?”
Xie Lian laughs, pressing a kiss to Hua Cheng’s kiss and reveling at his smile. “San Lang, that imposter was you! And either way, it looks like he succeeded.”
“Should we sleep in here, or go back to our real chambers?” Hua Cheng looks nervous at the question.
“As long as it's with you, I don’t mind either,” Xie Lian says, delighted when a pleasant blush spreads across Hua Cheng’s cheeks. “But… perhaps our real bedroom? I’ve grown quite tired of this one.”
Hua Cheng smiles. “Then allow this one to carry you.”
“Ah– San Lang, you don’t need to do that!”
Xie Lian protests for exactly five seconds as Hua Cheng scoops him up into his arms in a bridal carry and takes off out of the bedroom and down the hall.
It only takes a minute or two to arrive at their chambers, but Xie Lian makes himself useful by kissing along Hua Cheng’s jaw, giggling as his husband shifts away ticklishly.
He is placed on the bed gently, and Hua Cheng climbs in after him before taking him in his arms again and pulling him close. He uses his other arm to pull up the blankets around them, and suddenly Xie Lian is surrounded by warmth.
The Xie Lian of two hours ago never thought he would have this again. Now, exhausted by the sheer emotion of having his own Hua Cheng back in his arms, he’s content to curl up in his husband’s arms and hold on tight. He’ll never let go.