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The first time Xie Lian, The Prince Who Pleased the Gods, ascended, all of the heavens clambered to win his favor. The second time Xie Lian, scapegoat of a fallen kingdom, ascended, the heavens wanted nothing to do with him. This shunning was not unexpected, for obvious reasons, but it was also not helped by the way that Xie Lian had appointed a wrath ghost as a middle court official and had threatened to give up his godly position if that ghost was barred from the heavens.
It would have been an audacious move even for a god in good standing, but as it was, the only reason XIe Lian hadn't been called on his ultimatum was that the Heavenly Emperor himself was determined to keep his former—current?—favorite close by. And so Wu Ming was allowed to stay, with much grumbling from the other heavenly officials. Few of them were brave enough to confront Xie Lian directly, considering the circumstances, but eventually a civil god, Ling Wen, approached him with a request.
"A number of officials have expressed an unease with your attendant wearing a mask," she told him. "If there is a possibility that he could remove it without displaying... ah, ghostly features, it may help the reaction to his presence in the heavens die down."
Xie Lian made no promises, but he thanked Ling Wen for her advice and passed it on to Wu Ming later, when they were alone in the recently rebuilt Heavenly Palace of Xianle.
"I know you prefer to wear the mask," XIe Lian told him. "And if you feel strongly about it, then I'll just tell them no. You shouldn't have to make yourself uncomfortable for the sake of those who think badly of you."
"But it would make things easier for Your Highness," Wu Ming said, like that was infinitely more important than his own comfort.
Xie Lian hesitated. "It might. But it's just as likely that they'll find something new to complain about and expect us to bow to their wishes about that as well."
Wu Ming thought about that for a moment and then reached up, slowly removing his mask. For the first time, Xie Lian could see his ghost deputy's face, and he had several realizations in a row.
First, Wu Ming was just as young as he'd seemed to be. If he had come of age before he'd died, Xie Lian would be surprised.
Second, Wu Ming had very handsome features, even half hidden behind bandages.
Third, and most importantly, Xie Lian recognized him. He'd met Wu Ming when he'd still been alive, and suddenly the ghost's stubborn, precious devotion made more sense to the god.
Xie Lian felt tears welling up in his eyes, and he blinked them away as he smiled at Wu Ming. "There was a young soldier I met several times during the war," he said. "That soldier was determined to be of service to me; to keep me safe. He was a great help to me on Beizi Hill, the day my cousin was kidnapped. I told him he'd be well suited to a saber."
As Xie Lian spoke, Wu Ming's one visible eye grew larger in shock. And Xie Lian had been almost certain he was right, but it was good to have the confirmation.
"That day," he continued. "before we parted, I had intended to appoint him as one of my lower court officials. I was later told he'd been dismissed from the army, but after that the Human Face Disease ravaged the land, and I was banished. I'm ashamed to say I didn't know what became of him in the end."
"Your Highness..." Wu Ming breathed, almost reflexively. Xie Lian wasn't sure the ghost realized he'd spoken aloud.
"That was you, wasn't it?" Xie Lian asked. "Wu Ming, you found your way back to me! You proved yourself to me a second time! So I don't want to hear you call yourself unworthy ever again." Caught up in emotion, XIe Lian pulled Wu Ming—should he still call him Wu Ming?—into a tight hug, burying his face into the ghost's neck. "I'm just so glad you're here with me."
Tentatively, Wu Ming returned the hug, wrapping his arms around his god's back. "I'm glad too, Your Highness. I never want to be parted from you again."
Xie Lian laughed wetly, having lost the battle against his tears. "If I have anything to do with it, you won't ever have to."
And it was a long time before either one of them was willing to remove himself from that embrace.