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Sauntering into Thousand Lights Temple with one hand behind his back, Hua Cheng greeted Xie Lian with a cheerful, “Gege, I finally found something interesting. Want to see?”
Xie Lian didn’t hesitate to look up from the copybook he was writing out. He set down his brush and gave Hua Cheng a smile, relieved to see him come back from the storage room in one piece. “Mm. Come sit, San Lang.”
Hua Cheng headed further into the temple, but he stopped just short of joining Xie Lian at the altar. He slowly pulled his arm around to reveal a small book, one no larger than the span of his hand. It wasn’t very thick, and the binding was a bit crude, as if it had been thrown together in a hurry. Despite its flaws, however, it seemed to have been extremely well cared for. The pages were flat, and not a single corner had been bent or torn.
From where he sat, Xie Lian couldn’t quite make out the title, yet the book looked oddly familiar somehow.
Hua Cheng tipped his hand, letting the book fall open to a random page. He scanned through it quickly until he appeared to find a passage that he liked, and he cleared his throat before he began to read.
“Granduncle’s preferences… Well, it’s certainly right about you not liking human flesh…” Hua Cheng made a distasteful face. Then his eye lit up, and he smiled. “Hm? What’s this? Suspected of not liking women… Gege, it says here that you’ve personally admitted to that fact. When did that happen? I must not have been around.”
Xie Lian was speechless, and slowly going red in the face.
That book—What was that book?!
Hua Cheng casually flipped through a few more pages. “Mm… Gege does indeed hold the honour of being the only one to best me in a bet. And… Oh? Heh. There’s even a note here about how gege was my first—”
“You—!”
Xie Lian shot up from his seat and raced around the altar. He went straight for the book, but Hua Cheng was much too fast and much too tall. While Xie Lian stood on the tips of his toes and stretched his arm up as far as he could possibly reach, Hua Cheng held the book even higher, dangling it inches from Xie Lian’s fingertips.
“San Lang!”
With his other arm, Hua Cheng wrangled Xie Lian with ease, circling his waist and pulling him in close. Holding the book open with his thumb, he looked up and continued to peruse, ignoring Xie Lian’s attempts to snatch it away. “Gege, whoever wrote this book said that you’re covered in ghost qi. Why do you think that is?”
A memory from long ago suddenly surfaced in Xie Lian’s mind. He’d definitely seen that book before.
It was that Ghost City Survival Guide that he’d come across one day—and completely forgotten to buy!
Now it was in Hua Cheng’s hands—the very last place Xie Lian thought it should be. At this point, he could only give up. He dropped his arm, and he buried his face in Hua Cheng’s shoulder. “You know why. Where did you even find that book, anyway? I thought you were looking through storage, not shopping in the market.”
“I was in the storehouse,” Hua Cheng said. “I picked this book up a long time ago. I forgot about it, is all.”
Xie Lian laughed nervously, and he wilted even more in Hua Cheng’s embrace. “You went back and bought it that very same day, didn’t you? I knew you’d caught me looking at it.”
“Mhm. I didn’t see what you were reading, though. I only saw how engrossed you were. I never would have guessed that gege would be so interested in reading a book about himself.”
Xie Lian gently pinched Hua Cheng’s waist. “When you say that, it makes me sound conceited.”
Hua Cheng snickered. “Gege is nothing of the sort.” He finally lowered his other arm, and he wrapped Xie Lian up in a proper hug, holding him tightly. “I didn’t read it after I bought it, you know. I don’t recall what we were doing that day, but it seems I never had time to flip through it. Want to read the rest of it with me now, gege?”
While Xie Lian didn’t particularly want to remember what the ghosts had observed about him, he couldn’t resist the allure of laughing about it with Hua Cheng. Surely much had changed since that book was written, after all.
“Oh, alright,” Xie Lian mumbled. He looked up and gave Hua Cheng a smile. “You win this time, San Lang.”
Together, they snuggled on the bed by the altar, just as they so often did when they read to one another. Hua Cheng lounged against the pillows, while Xie Lian curled up beside him, tucked away beneath one of his arms.
They read through the booklet from start to finish without skipping over even a single line. Hua Cheng had put himself in charge of holding it and turning the pages, just in case Xie Lian decided prematurely that he was over it and wanted to burn it instead. While Xie Lian did find that he felt a bit embarrassed, it was worth a good few laughs, and the time that he’d spent with Hua Cheng was worth so much more than anything else anyway.
By the end of it all, he was smiling wide. He’d long since forgotten about one line in particular that he’d actually liked back when he’d first leafed through it. “San Lang… You really do show up wherever I go, don’t you?”
Hua Cheng grinned. The very last entry in the book had indeed said that whenever Xie Lian was around, Hua Cheng was sure to appear, too. “What do you think, gege? Is the rabble more interested in seeing me, or you?”
“You, surely,” Xie Lian said, waving his hand dismissively. “San Lang is much more mysterious.”
“They wrote a book about you, gege,” Hua Cheng pointed out. “I don’t see any books like this about me.”
Xie Lian hummed. “They’re probably just afraid of what you’ll do if they get anything wrong about you.”
“Shouldn’t they be more afraid of what I’ll do if they get anything wrong about you?”
Face pink, Xie Lian lightly coughed into his fist. Now that he and Hua Cheng were married, such books might not be as warmly welcomed as they were before. He didn’t doubt that with the right ammunition, the ghosts’ imaginations could run absolutely wild. “Ah… Maybe nowadays, sure. But this was written before we were…”
He trailed off as he began to wonder—What if an updated Ghost City Survival Guide had been published?
If such a thing existed, he would definitely get rid of it long before Hua Cheng had a chance to see it.
Hua Cheng tossed the booklet aside on the bed, and he pecked Xie Lian’s forehead. “I’ll give whoever wrote that some credit—it was very accurate. To the point where I’m not sure I like how closely they observe you…”
Xie Lian laughed. “They’re harmless, San Lang. Don’t lie—you got a kick out of that book.”
“I did. I really did, gege,” Hua Cheng admitted. “Though, if I had written it, it would’ve been quite different…”
Xie Lian raised a brow. He was just as curious as he was amused. He was very interested in hearing what Hua Cheng might’ve had to say, had he been enough of an aspiring author to pen a silly little book like that. But in the end, Xie Lian’s amusement won by a landslide. “If you had written it, I wouldn’t have been able to read it.”
Hua Cheng gave Xie Lian a flat look, feigning hurt. “Very funny, gege.”
“Isn’t it?” Xie Lian couldn’t help but laugh some more. “But really, San Lang—What if you had written it?”
That seemed to pique Hua Cheng’s interest. “Hm?”
“What would you write? What’s missing from that book that you feel those ghosts should know about me?”
Hua Cheng looked over at the altar, then back at Xie Lian. Silently, he made up his mind about something. He carefully slipped out from beneath Xie Lian, and he moved to sit on the edge of the bed by the table, leaving Xie Lian puzzled behind him. When a clean brush found its way into Hua Cheng’s hand, Xie Lian understood.
“You’re going to write it all out? Why not just tell me?”
“I don’t want to forget anything,” Hua Cheng explained. “Don’t worry, gege. I’ll read it to you once I’m done.”
Xie Lian laughed through his nose. “I was only kidding when I said I couldn’t read your handwriting.”
Hua Cheng threw a smirk over his shoulder, before he threw himself into his writing.
He scribbled wildly on the paper for a while, making what looked like nonsense strokes from where Xie Lian sat. Xie Lian thought, as he sat cross-legged with his head propped in his hand, that it was probably a good thing Hua Cheng hadn’t been the one to write that book. With how fast Hua Cheng’s pen was moving, Xie Lian was starting to fear what Hua Cheng had to say about him more than he’d feared what the ghosts had to say.
After all, Hua Cheng knew everything about him—even things that weren’t fit to be immortalized in writing.
“What are you doing over there? You’re going to fill the page at this point.”
“There’s a lot that I can say about you, gege. More than any one page can hold.” Hua Cheng suddenly paused, his brush hovering over the last word he wrote. “Hm. Maybe I should write a proper book sometime.”
Xie Lian shuddered. “If you’re thinking of writing one about me, please never publish it.”
“Rest assured, gege. If I were to put all of my thoughts on paper, it wouldn’t be appropriate for the public.”
“…”
Before long, Hua Cheng declared himself finished. He fanned the paper, giving the ink a bit of time to dry, before he joined Xie Lian by the pillows. He waited to read until after Xie Lian had gotten comfortable again.
One glance at Hua Cheng’s creation revealed that he’d truly filled it from top to bottom, corner to corner. It was a mess of the highest degree, and quite honestly a miracle that the ink hadn’t bled through to the other side.
“Oh, that’s…”
“Ready, gege?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”
Hua Cheng smiled, and he wrapped an arm around Xie Lian’s shoulders, drawing him closer. “What would I write in a Ghost City guidebook about you? I’d start with what everyone should know—that you’re married to their chengzhu, and entirely off-limits.”
Xie Lian laughed. “San Lang…”
Though he’d spoken with mirth at first, Hua Cheng’s tone softened greatly as he carried on. “Aside from that? I would want them to know your kindness, and how you extend it to everyone, whether they deserve it or not.”
Hua Cheng’s own kindness quickly rendered Xie Lian speechless. He curled his fingers into Hua Cheng’s robe, and he listened intently to both the sound of Hua Cheng’s voice as well as the sound of his own restless heart.
“You’re even willing to befriend anyone, whether they’re a sarcastic backstabber or a brain-dead doormat,” Hua Cheng continued. “Gege, I find that admirable, and I think that everyone else here in Ghost City would, too.”
This time, Xie Lian didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Does he mean… Mu Qing and Feng Xin? he thought.
Ignorant of Xie Lian’s woes, Hua Cheng rambled on. “They should also know that your strength of character is as unrivalled as your martial strength. And your talents—gege, your talents. You’re exceptional at everything you do, whether it’s song and dance, or art, or calligraphy. Your swordplay is an intricate dance in itself—”
“Slow down, that’s… I-I wouldn’t go that far.” Having been thoroughly flattered, Xie Lian struggled to speak coherently. “I can’t… San Lang, I can’t cook, or… sew, or… keep house at all, really, haha…”
“Nonsense,” Hua Cheng huffed. “According to that book, everyone here wants to taste your cooking.”
From the sounds of things, the only palate that could handle Xie Lian’s cooking was a ghost’s palate. He figured that was likely for the best. Ghosts were already dead, anyway, so at least his food wouldn’t kill them.
“I think… for now, at least… San Lang should be the only one to eat what I cook. At least I know you like it.”
Hua Cheng turned his head, and he placed another kiss on Xie Lian’s forehead. “I completely agree, gege.” Then he adjusted his page, searching through the sea of ink for where he’d last left off. “Hm. I’m sure they all know this by now, but… I think I would have to remind everyone of just how good you are with children.”
“Oh?”
Hua Cheng hummed. He ran his fingers through Xie Lian’s hair a few times as he spoke. “I’ve seen it more than once. You’re a natural. You’re gentle, and patient. Compassionate, too. To them, you’re… safe, gege.”
Xie Lian smiled as his heart soared. Softly, he asked, “Are you speaking from your own experience?”
Hua Cheng was quiet at first. “I was thinking more about that child that Qi Rong stole, but… you’re right.” He smiled warmly, and rubbed Xie Lian’s back. “My own experience is a much better example.”
They were referring, of course, to the way Xie Lian had cared for Hua Cheng when he was young, as well as how he’d heavily doted on him during the opening of Mount Tonglu, when he’d assumed the form of a child. Hua Cheng had more firsthand experience than anyone else when it came to Xie Lian’s soft spot for children. Very few people knew that about their rich history with one another, however.
Another kiss landed on Xie Lian’s forehead, but this time, Hua Cheng didn’t pull away as he murmured, “Gege would make an excellent parent. I’d definitely want them to know that, too. Mm. I wouldn’t even have to write about it. They could see for themselves after we have—”
“Alright, alright.” Still smiling, Xie Lian used his hand to gently shoo Hua Cheng away. “I know for a fact that you didn’t write any of that last bit down. You’re getting carried away, San Lang.”
Hua Cheng wore a proud smile as he glanced at his paper. Then he tossed it aside, and he hugged Xie Lian tight with one arm as he began to recite the last line that he’d been able to fit on the page. “More than anything else, gege… I feel that everyone should know just how much you mean to me. How you saved me. I don’t talk about myself to that lot out there, but… I’m not against the idea of letting them know how much I worship you.”
Xie Lian felt his ears burn. That last line was really too much.
He was so warm that steam may as well have been rising off of his skin. “San Lang, you can’t… Honestly, that’s… Don’t ever write a book, alright? Or at least, if you do… let me proofread it, okay? I mean it. This is…”
Hua Cheng laughed, and he rolled right over until he was on top of Xie Lian. He smothered him with kisses, leaving them on his cheek, his neck, and finally his lips, leaving him dazed and pleasantly lightheaded.
“You’re laughing, but I’m serious,” Xie Lian said. “I think we should leave such books to the other ghosts…”
Hua Cheng rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his arm. “Why? I thought I made some good points.”
“You did,” Xie Lian assured. “In fact, they were too good. I think if anyone else had overheard any of that, there would be no end to the songs and plays written about us. And that… really would be too much, San Lang.”
“Hm. I suppose you’re right,” Hua Cheng mused. “We’ll just have to wait for the revised edition of that survival guide, then, won’t we? Surely it’s in the works. Gege has done a lot of interesting things since it was written.”
Xie Lian shuddered. He didn’t doubt the truth of that statement for even one second.
“San Lang has done a lot of interesting things, too,” he said. “Maybe I should write a chapter about you…”
Hua Cheng suddenly sat up. “Would you really do that?”
Xie Lian gave Hua Cheng a cheeky smile. “Why not? It’s only fair. Ghost City really should have a guide to Hua-chengzhu. He’s much more interesting than I am.”
Hua Cheng raised a brow, and he smirked. “Spoil me a little, gege. What would you write about me?”
There was no need for Xie Lian to write any of his thoughts out onto paper. They were already floating around in his head like mad. Besides, if he wrote them all out, Hua Cheng would likely frame it and hang it on the wall.
He couldn’t have that.
“Well, let’s see…” he began, tapping his lips with his fingertip. “I think the first thing they would need to know is that you’re actually very kind and generous, even though you often try to pretend that you aren’t.”
Amused, Hua Cheng raised his brow even higher in doubt.
“When necessary, you’re even willing to help those in need—but you never give anyone more than what they need. You aren’t blindly altruistic, but… you’re not nearly as hard to approach as everyone thinks you are.”
Hua Cheng laughed softly. “Gege, this sounds like fortune-telling.”
Xie Lian noticed the subtle flush in Hua Cheng’s cheeks as he laughed and smiled, which brought another thought to mind. “That, too,” he said, gesturing to Hua Cheng’s face. “You’re so expressive, San Lang. I feel like most people only ever see you with a straight face or a fake smile, but… you wear a lot of your emotions quite openly, if I’m being honest.”
“Come now, gege. That’s only because you know me so well.”
Xie Lian shook his head and said earnestly, “No, it’s true. I bet if any of those ghosts spent half as much time observing you as they did me, they would see it, too. You never used to show your face around them before, that’s all. Now you’re out and about all the time, and they’re getting to know you. That’s another point, actually. You’re… sociable, sort of. In small amounts. You hang around the market and the Gambler’s Den a lot now.”
Hua Cheng made a soft sound as though he intended to refute, but in the end, he said nothing.
“They’ve all seen your writing on the establishment plaques around the city, so they know that it… needs a bit of polish. But I don’t think they’ve ever seen your paintings or sculptures, have they? I know that many of them saw that divine statue, but they didn’t know it was you who sculpted it. Not that I want them to see the same paintings and sculptures that I’ve seen, but you’re so talented, San Lang. You deserve some recognition for it.”
Hua Cheng fiddled with his sleeves and adjusted his vambraces. “Gege… You’re flattering me too much.”
“Hm? Hardly,” Xie Lian said softly. “Compared to what you said about me, this is nothing.”
The tiniest pout hung on Hua Cheng’s lower lip, and he seemed to be having a hard time keeping his gaze in one place. To Xie Lian, he looked infinitely shy. Such a precious face only made him want to say even more.
He hid behind his hand, snickering quietly to himself. “San Lang… You look so cute right now. I almost want to squish your cheeks. Would it be wrong to put that in a book about you? That you’re very… squishable?”
“…”
“Can you imagine if everyone knew how cute and affectionate you were? And needy. Oh, San Lang—you’re so needy sometimes. In a good way, though. You love being held, and spoiled. And I love spoiling you. Especially at night, when you get tired. I know you don’t need to sleep, but you definitely get tired, San Lang. I’ve seen it.”
“Gege… I think you’ve forgotten who your audience is supposed to be…”
By now, it was too late for Hua Cheng to protest. Xie Lian had clearly lost the plot.
“You know, I often think it’s a shame that no one knows how gentle you look when you sleep. I bet a lot of people think that you never sleep at all, but you do. You sleep a lot at night, and usually with your arms and sometimes legs wrapped around me. Or when you’re napping, you put your head in my lap. I really like that.”
“Gege, please—”
“Sometimes, you even talk in your sleep. Did you know that, San Lang? Now that I think about it, I’m not sure I’ve ever mentioned it to you. Usually, it’s nonsense, but once in a while, you… say some really sweet things.”
“… Gege.”
“Speaking of sweet—You have a sweet tooth. And a beautiful singing voice. I wish you would sing to me more often. Oh, and you have a really good eye for aesthetics, San Lang. The sound that your boots make when you walk is very soothing. Those chains were one of the first things I noticed about you. Hm… You have the softest hair I’ve ever felt, too, and you give the warmest hugs. And you’re jealous of your scimitar, haha… Plus, you…”
…
By the time Xie Lian finally stopped talking, a decree had been sent throughout the entirety of Ghost City:
Personal guidebooks are henceforth banned unless inspected for authenticity by Hua-chengzhu or his wife.