Archive of Our Own

The two of them stepped leisurely into the hall, approaching the altar that he had left untouched after last time, there were still brushes, ink and paper stocked in generous quantities, all waiting for someone to use them. Hua Cheng saw how his highness smiled softly at the sight, turning to look back at him with an indulgent gaze.

He fought the urge to smirk back as his god spoke. "Back when I taught you, I said you'd need to find the time to practice." He sighed, with not a hint of disappointment in the action. "But I suppose you haven't lately."

Hua Cheng cleared his throat, trying to change the subject. Although he wouldn't mind another calligraphy lesson from his highness, he would rather distract him from his awful attempt at writing. 

"Gege, you gave my dinner away to other people." He mentioned, recalling how his highness had given away the eggs he had brought from Puqi shrine to those foolish ghosts even when he had said he would use them to make him dinner. "What will I eat tonight?" He said, a faux pout in his voice.

Truly, he didn't need to eat. But his highness' dishes were the most exquisite thing he had ever tasted, and every chance his highness got to share them with him was one he cherished with utmost sincerity. 

Xie Lian arched his brow, trying to imitate what he often did when his god said something particularly amusing. Cute. Even if it meant to placate him he couldn't help but inwardly swoon for him. "Don't change the subject." he reprimanded. 

Hua Cheng walked over to the altar, sitting down on the ground and picking up a brush to play with it between his fingers. "I can practice the sword, but not calligraphy." he said. "If gege isn't at my side to tutor me, I'll go astray while I practice alone and get worse the more I write!" 

It was an exaggeration, a tease. One that seemed to work seeing how Xie Lian's brows arched higher.

"San Lang is so smart. How can there be anything he's not good at?" 

Hua Cheng sighed, feigning modesty and dipping his brush in a bit of ink. "It's true. Pray gege teach me." 

He heard Xie Lian sigh behind and he resisted the urge to turn around to look at him. 

"Why don't you write something first?" He suggested, settling beside him. 

He tried, he really tried. His writing was just too horrible, incorregible, even when he tried to make the brush strokes slow and steady, just as he did in painting. He had barely written two verses when Xie Lian stopped him, sounding pained.

"Stop, stop." He commanded. "You'd better stop after all."

Hua Cheng did as asked, murmuring a faint "Oh," as he put the brush away. 

Xie Lian shook his head, looking sheepishly at him. "San Lang... don't-" he sighed. "Don't tell anyone that I taught you how to write, okay?" 

His highness was taught by the best scholars of Xianle, his calligraphy was impecable, beautiful. It was right that he took great shame in having a student with a calligraphy like his while his own was majestic. Even so he couldn't help but pout, he had really tried.

"Gege, I really tried my best..." 

Xie Lian sighed again, a smile making his lips twitch. He lectured him then, on a few crucial points, like how to hold his brush correctly, how to make the strokes fast and even, confident in the craft. Hua Cheng listened attentively to his critique, soaking each word as if he were made of sponge and his highness' words liquid water that penetrated deep into his pores. 

His highness placed his hands over his again, and if his heart could still beat, it would've stopped right then and there. His god was so close that he could feel his faint warmth radiating into his side, the hand underneath his burning as if it were still live flesh.

"Let's try again." Xie Lian said, voice gentle but firm, rumbling in his ears from the proximity. "Be serious this time." 

"Okay." was all he could manage to say before his voice started to shake.

It took a moment for him to compose himself, but once he did he got immersed in the composition, letting Xie Lian guide his every move, each stroke being gently guided by his hand over his. It didn't make it all that much better, but for Hua Cheng the mere touch was enough, he would never improve if it meant his highness would hold his hand like this each time. 

He noticed his god tilting his head, not stopping in his movements as he asked. "Why is it still Ache of Separation?" 

He smiled, trying to sound casual as he replied. "I like this poem."

He did, he liked it a lot. 

His favorite one, even more so that his highness had written it with him, even under the excuse of a lesson.

"I like it too," Xie Lian said, giving him an indulgent smile. "But does San Lang have any other poem he likes? Once you're familiar with transcribing this one, you can try copying the others." he suggested. 

He could guess why, this poem only had so many characters, and the two of them had written it over a dozen times already, so if he wanted to learn to properly write more than a single poem, he should change things up.

Unfortunately, he didn't want to learn all that much. While he wanted to improve, he would rather spend the time with his highness like this. Xie Lian could have the most wonderful calligraphy for the two of them, no need to learn himself.

"This one is fine." He insisted, setting the brush down with that serene smile of his and blowing gently at the drying ink. "If I like something, then my heart will have no room for anything else. I will always treasure it." He admired their work as he spoke, glancing then at Xie Lian who looked at him attentively. "A thousand times, a million times, my feelings won't change no matter how many years pass." He vowed, for more reasons than he was willing to admit. "So I won't tire of this poem." he finished, cowardly, afraid his highness might catch into the meaning of his words. He had always been so smart.

Xie Lian was silent for a moment, then gave him a small smile. "Is that right?" 

"Mhm." 

"..." Xie Lian released his hand, trying to quietly clear his throat. Hua Cheng pretended not to notice the faint dusting on his cheeks. "That's a good thing. It's nice that San Lan is such a sentimental man... why don't you practice some more by yourself?" He said a little too quickly as he scratched his cheek, Hua Cheng couldn't help but smile at him. "Ah! That's right, Qi Rong said he was feeling unwell lately..." 

That made him pause, even if he didn't particularly liked to speak about that trash of his highness' cousin, this couldn't be ignored if it was what he thought it was. He tried to rack his mind, exploring his own body with his spiritual energy, that restless feeling that he had experienced lately, even back at He Xuan's shore, could this and that be related?

"Unwell how?" 

Xie Lian turned to look at the door of the temple, his back facing Hua Cheng, he couldn't see his expression as he said. "He said he felt agitated all over, but I looked him over and didn't see a problem with his mortal body. Could it be the bad weather...?" 

Agitated? His mind ran wild, he had experienced things like this before, how many years had it been since Mount Tonglu's last opening? He racked his brain for the answer, suddenly unable to search for the information in his mind. 

"When did this start?" He asked, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

Surely not. 

Xie Lian was standing now, trying to peek through the door to the outside of ghost city. 

He hummed, seemingly in thought. "Within the past few days, I think..." he said pausing a moment to think further on that. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck! It really was Mount Tonglu, he had ignored the sensation of warmth building up in his meridians for far too long, too entranced with his highness and the time he had gotten to spend with him, that fucking situation with He Xuan and the former Wind Master that had had his god worried and throwing himself up at danger every chance he got, he had been too busy to notice, to care. 

He felt his insides begin to burn, as if his veins were iron held over a blazing fire, heating up more for each second that passed. 

"Today was especially bad-" 

He couldn't help but drop the brush he held in his hand as his body, his eye specially, spiked in pain. Uncaringly letting the brush fall into the snow white paper that splashed a long, erratic trail of ink in it. 

His highness whirled around, his robes flapping on the air as he approached him again. 

"San Lang?!" 

He couldn't school his expression no longer, frowning in pain.

His right eye hurt, hurt so much even if the damn thing wasn't even there. It burned as if it was the first time, when he had ripped the cursed thing out of its socket with his bare hands. He tried to stand up, assure his highness that everything was alright, excuse himself before the pain got worse. But he swayed on his feet, gripping tightly to the edge of the altar to not let himself fall, shaking with the strain.

FUCK.

It hurt. It hurt so fucking much, fuck, his highness was not supposed to see him like this, never like this, so uselessly pathetic and writhing in pain so bad he couldn't even stand up properly. 

"Are you alright?!" Xie Lian asked, rushing forward to hold his arms. Even above the fabric of his robes the touch felt heavenly cool for his increasingly heating skin. "Is your eye bothering you?!" 

His mouth twitched with the need to respond to his god, to reassure him that he was alright, but the pain just increased ten fold, and he bit his tongue to keep himself from making a sound. E-ming's eye in the hilt of his weapon snapped open, seemingly as affected as himself, spinning wildly as the blade shook under the power that thrummed in his veins. 

His hand clutched tighter into the altar, knuckles white in restraint, any more strength and he'd sacriligiously break the jade of it. He felt Mount Tonglu's call singing underneath his veins, burning as if molten lava had replaced the very essence in his body. 

Hua Cheng could feel his mind slipping away, thoughts becoming each time less coherent and each frequent as they were replaced with a single thing. Hurts, it hurts.

Xie Lian looked at him with worried eyes, frantically searching for anything wrong with him. His god needed to get away from him before he became feral with the foreign energy surging through his body, even if his cool touch was relief in his heated skin, he needed to get away from him. Let he do something as sacrilegious as hurting him. 

"San Lang, let me see-" 

His highness reached out, wanting to touch his face but he could only growl in warning. "Stay back!" 

Xie Lian froze, eyes wide reflecting something akin to pain, his heart ached at the sight, adding to his troubulation. He bit back a whine, pleading through gritted teeth. "... your highness, please." he gasped. "Get away from me, hurry. I might-" 

"How can you ask me to leave when you're like this?!" He asked, voice as frantic as his gaze. His god merciful as ever, trying to help him. 

There was nothing he could do in this situation but wait it out, flee, flee and wait until Hua Cheng had regained his senses enough to apologize properly over this, and hope that he hadn't used his powers to hurt his god, that one time in the armory had been enough. His god's blood should never be spilled, and let alone by him. 

He groaned. "If you stay here any longer, I-" don't think I can restrain myself.

He could hear the howls and cries from the ghost outside Qiandeng temple, he couldn't see but he could feel the spiritual energy running madly through his body, likely affecting everyone else just as much, the beckoning call of Mount Tonglu. Cries and screams echoed in the temple walls, noise that just proved to further agitate him, to amplify the splitting headache he was getting. If it wasn't for his highness worried expression and his need to not sully his mood any further he would've cried out as well, howling in pain as if he were a wounded animal.

He could hear in the distance how that madman Qi Rong screamed, his annoying voice revibrating through his very soul, lighting the fires of his fury, he could hear that mortal boy crying, everything was too loud and then his highness left his side, his only relief leaving him, his body no longer soothed by the chilling aura Xie Lian exuded. 

"Qi Rong!" He heard him scream, far far away. 

He was leaving.

He was leaving, leaving him behind.

He would lose him, he wouldn't be able to find him again. Eight centuries had been tortuous enough, any longer than that and he would go insane. He couldn't lose him, not so soon after he found him.

He had just found him!

The heat inside him suddenly felt too hot, a raging inferno that couldn't be soothed, the temperature too high, suddenly he wasn't in the temple, he was in the armory, his god was hurt and he had gotten away, and then it wasn't just that but in his mind he was back in Xianle, in a decapitated temple, nothing like the one he had made for his god, there was the faint echo of screams as souls burned to ashes... he was standing in the middle of the seething fire, and his highness was...

His highness was-

In a sudden fit of madness he ended up sweeping all of the things from the small table at the side, throwing small pastries and the cups of tea that clattered on the ground, flinging the table to the ground. 

His highness rushed back to his side after hearing the clamor.

"San Lang...?" 

At the sound of his voice he felt forward, chasing out that gentle coolness his highness gave off, holding him tight and with a trembling voice he spoke. "I lied..." he murmured, weak as he was, afraid as he had always been to lose him again. "Don't leave me." he pleaded. 

Xie Lian stiffened, standing there locked between his arms.

He spoke cautiously. "San Lang? Do you recognize me?" 

Of course, how could he not? He would recognize his only god anywhere, his voice, his gentle touch, his highness would always be his highness to him, no matter the state he was in. His highness shifted only for a moment, and he clutched him tighter in his arms, crumpling his robes like a petulant child begging for forgiveness as he murmured over and over, God "...I lied, I lied don't leave me..." 

Xie Lian let out a shaky sigh, placing his hands on his shoulder. "San Lang..." Hua Cheng pressed the curve of his nose to his neck, blasphemously pressing himself closer.

"BAH HA HA!! Hua Cheng, you fucker!" Qi Rong cackled. "That'll teach you not to look down on me all the time! Look at you! So cocky all day, down for the count aren't you?! That's karma!" 

A growl build up in is throat, the sound feeling every bit as feral as he was becoming, the ghost in the streets cursed him back on his stead, but the ruckus only seemed to further alterate the energy inside him, splitting his soul, making another growl vibrate trough his and highness' body. He raised his hand, trying to blast the damned fools to pieces, make them quiet down, but his god hastily returned his embrace, his arms holding his own down. 

"Okay, okay." He murmured, patting his back as if he were a child, the soothing motion doing wonders to his body. "I won't leave. I won't leave you." he placated him. 

He could hear how Qiandeng Temple's grand doors shut themselves closed, Xie Lian's hand that he had used to close them returning to him before he could worry about it.

"If you're gonna go, then go already!" Xie Lian yelled, patting his hair back as if petting a wild beast that he had managed to tame. "I don't have time for you!" The words stung, somewhere deep in his mind he registered the words weren't for him, but his body refused to listen, his dead heart panged and he let out a whine as he fell forward in his highness' arms, refusing to let go, to be pushed away. "Careful- if you don't get lost, I just might- ah!" 

The shallow embrace his highness had on him wasn't enough anymore, his cooled hands seemingly having been warmed by the energy running through him. He pushed his god down into the jade altar, scattering ink, paper and brushes across the floor. In the struggle Xie Lian's hand accidentally skimmed past the cinnabar dish on the altar, smearing crimson red marks across the paper underneath him. On the Ache of Separation, the line "No cloud is beautiful but that which crowns the peak​​​​​​​." had the character of "the peak" now stained with alluring streaks of vivid red. 

The sight was bewitching, his highness was sprawled on the altar, his hair cascading off the jade and adorning the sight, the lines of poems behind him and the messy ink that clung to his skin adding allure to the sight. It was better than some of the sacrilegious images his mind had conjured. Half his mind was scared out of his wits, what was he doing? Offending his highness like this, thinking he was someone to be grabbing his highness like that? There was something actually wrong with him. 

Yet even as the thoughts tried to come back to the surface of his mind, the heat was persistent, pulling him back under and drowning him, flooding through his veins like water quickly leaking into a sinking ship. It crawled underneath his skin, heating his insides, trying to seep through his pores, begging for release. 

He needed to get rid of it, needed to give it off to something, someone, he- 

"San La-" 

Before he could think better of it he rushed forward, grabbing his shoulders and colliding his lips with his god's, blasphemously cutting him off before he could speak more. He felt the body underneath him tense, an exasperation shrill piercing the air, making his highness freeze. 

He was going mad, his god hadn't pushed him away yet and so he pressed closer, held him tighter, his head tilting so their lips slid together, almost melding, the heat in his body started to spread but at the same time it escaped him through his lips, waves and waves of power leaving him, being forced into the one below him. The hands at his shoulders shook, the coolness delicious even against his robes, then they clenched at the fabric, almost pulling it.

Then that mouth, his release, was being pulled away, the distant minimal, but he couldn't allow it to go further, he pressed closer, his mouth chasing the one escaping as he heard a gasped "San Lang-!"

He continued to press, the energy escaping through his veins, connecting with his nerves, his muscles burning inside out as it fell away. 

Hua Cheng felt a tap on his shoulder, the motion meant to pull him back but holding no real strength behind him, he seized the wrist of that hold hand, pressing the pulse point there, feeling a hummingbird heart beat under his fingertips, the steady thump-thump-thump that seemed to be picking up in speed soothing something deep down inside his bones. 

The moment he allowed for that distraction he felt the hands on his shoulders pull him back, their lips separating as a gasp immediately followed. "No more! No more!" His god pleaded, even as he chased down those lips, seeking the coolness and the relief of them. "Don't give me any more! I'm getting filled up!" he called, his voice cracking at the end of what seemed to close to a sob. 

The feral animal in him didn't listen though, pulling closer even as those arms struggled to keep the distance. He opened his eye, having no idea when he had ever closed it, and he stared at the man beneath him, following him. The moment his highness pulled back, attempting to flee, something snapped inside him, the desperate feeling surging up back inside him, the heat plaguing his body a thought in the back of his head, the most important thing was- his highness was leaving, leaving him!.

He couldn't protect him if he left!

"Don't go..." he pleaded, his voice raspy and breathless. 

They struggled, the sound of the rustle of fabric along with both of their panting filling the room.

"San Lang, calm- calm down!" 

He didn't understand, his voice sounding muffled, as if they had stuffed his head with cotton. Words blurred, no more than noise, important noise; his highness speaking was always important, yet the wild beast in him was insatiable, the heat in him unbearable, he needed his highness more than ever right now, the countless night alone in Mount Tonglu, the ones where he was aching and begging for a fragment of his god's attention amounting to nothing against the desperate pain and longing in his heart. The way his body needed him close, pressed together until they were one so he could know he would stay, that after all the heat went away, his highness would still be by his side, no more endless search, no more aching nights, no more of the void in his soul. 

Yet the arms fought, to keep him away, to separate them, why would they-

Cursed monster, savage beast, unworthy thing-

"San Lang!"  His god's voice finally broke through. 

And Hua Cheng froze.

A gasp escaping through his lips as he blinked, hard. A semblance of reality snapping back into place. He panted, his dead lungs expanding as if they needed the air, his highness was beneath him, panting as well, his chest going up and down so fast the ghost king worried the motion would somehow be painful to him. His arms trembled as Xie Lian, his god, looked at him concerned and confused.

He didn't leave. 

He told him to, begged him to, but he was still here. 

Something of that thought must've escaped him in murmurs, because his highness responded with a soft. "I'm here, I'm here." A shiver ran through his spine and he couldn't help but wrap his god into a crushing hug, his arms clutching at his robes as if he was ten again, falling of a building and holding on for dear life to the one that caught him. 

"You're still here..." he whispered, his voice holding no reprimand, only awe. Of course his god wouldn't leave, he was far too kind for that. 

"Yes," he said, breathless. "Let me get up first..." He patted his shoulder, and he fought the urge to flinch, not because it hurt, not because he didn't yearn for his touch. But the sudden coolness of his highness body was to tempting to resist. 

Xie Lian was a god, essentially human, he was alive, his heart beat in his chest and his blood flowed through his veins, usually he would emanate that warm breeze around him, his mortal body keeping the heat that his dead body couldn't. But right now it was cold, colder than his, colder than the inferno spreading through his body. 

He groaned in pain as his highness pulled him away, clutching his head as it throbbed, his vision blurring.

"San Lang, let me take a look." 

He couldn't reply, his throat was closed in an attempt to keep the pitiful whines that begged to come out.

"Your spiritual energy became so chaotic all of a sudden... San Lang are you in pain?" His highness voice echoed in his head, the worried and pained sound making him pant harshly, he would attempt to calm him down, to assure him that he was alright, that there was no need for him to worry about someone like him, but he feared another plea would fall out of his lips instead.

He stood there, trying and failing to suppress pained moans as his highness ran his hands through his arms, his chest, examining the damage, the heat in his body was increasing once more, the wave of power running through his limbs exploding on its way. 

His highness cool hand grazed his cheek, and he couldn't help but lean in, searching the coolness and the touch like a cat basking the warmth of a patch of sunlight. It trembled slightly even as it was pressed to his skin, he couldn't comprehend why. 

Before he could ponder on that thought he heard him murmur. "San Lang... forgive me." 

His god kept cupping his cheek, his other hand coming behind his head to pull him closer, close enough until he could feel his breath against his heated skin. Then, he closed the distance, pressing their lips together. 

He gasped, stilling for a moment as his highness pressed his lips even tighter, pulling the energy out of him throughout them, taking it in his own trembling body.

The last bit of his rationality shattered, the cord that he had around his selfish instincts snapped and he pressed even closer to Xie Lian, looping his arms around his waist to pull him tighter against him, making his god's spine shiver beneath his palms. 

He didn't know what he was doing, but from one moment to the other they were tumbling down again, his god sprawled once more beneath him over the altar he had made to worship him. And worship him he would. 

His hand moved from the small of his back to his waist, then back to his chest, at the same time he licked over his highness bottom lip, making him gasp from both the touch and the sudden action. Hua Cheng didn't waste anytime pulling closer, his tongue making way inside of his highness' wet heat, exploring as if he would never get the chance again. 

His god gasped and shuddered underneath him, his body torn between pressing closer or pulling away, a shaking hand alternating between clutching into his robes and pushing him back. He didn't let him get away, not ever again, he pressed closer, their tongues entangling together as surprised but pleased hum escaped his highness' throat. He wanted more, needed more, more of his touch, more contact, more of those sweet sounds. 

His mouth finally left his god's but he didn't pull back, pressing open mouthed kissed to the sacred skin in his jaw, hand slipping from his back to caress his hips and thighs.

"Ah- ha Sa-san Lang, don't..." Xie Lian panted. "D-don't move your hands..."

Hua Cheng usually wouldn't dare to be this bold, but his mind was gone, thoughts far in a place where he couldn't reach them, he was turned into a beast, one reigned by instincts. His highness hand left his shoulder, searching for purchase anywhere else as his hand tightened his grip on his hip bone, enough so it would probably leave bruises there.

"D-don't pinch... my waist-"

Before he could speak anymore he captured his lips once more, one of his hands coming up to intertwine their hands, his god's fingers immediately clutching his hand as if he were a lifeline. 

The hand in his waist traveled lower, caressing his thigh over his robes before going back up and behind, Xie Lian letting out a sharp gasp against his mouth as his hand cupped his highness' ass cheek, fondling with the hefty part of his body.

His highness turned his face away with a high pitch whine, panting heavily as his body trembled.

"N-no... not there-" he hiccupped. "D-don't go any further..." he whined.

His pleads fell on deaf ears.

He couldn't get enough, taste enough. He touched and kissed his god as if he was an starved beast who had finally been given food, water, reprieve. His consciousness, guilty, was in a distant place behind his mind, he would have time later to mop around, to make up for this sinful acts, to kneel and beg for forgiveness, hopefully his highness didn't hate him too much, he would never forgive himself if he earned his hatred after this, if after how he behaved tonight he lost the privilege to stand by his god's side. 

But he couldn't stop. 

Not as the heat still plagued his insides, making them churn and boil, his only salvation his highness' lips. He kept touching, trying and failing to part his highness' robes, a hand always redirecting his wandering hand elsewhere, to his god's arms, his thighs, his chest. 

He didn't know for how long it went on like that, lost in the sensation of his highness' sweet lips, his warm tongue, those delicious sounds he kept making and his heating body underneath his hands.

Hua Cheng felt his consciousness slipping from his grasp, his arms started to tremble and his hold on his highness slackened. Yet his god didn't immediately flee given the opportunity, instead he felt him carefully flip them over, cupping his head so it didn't hit on the marble of the altar as his body succumbed to exhaustion. 

A gentle hand brushed the hair of his face as he rested on the ground, the last of his consciousness fading as he heard his highness sigh.

"Rest, San Lang..." 

Hua Cheng snapped his eye open, his body shooting upright from the floor he found himself sleeping it at. His eye scanned around him, feeling himself breathless at the sight of his highness awake, sitting on the floor and patting that wretched thing, E-ming. 

"...Your highness?!" 

His god turned to look at him with a serene smile, continuing to pet his weapon down as he said. "You're awake? Everything is fine now." 

That did little to soothe him, quickly he scanned the room. Qiandeng Temple was a complete mess, the small table from before was turned upside down, thrown away near one of the walls, there were paper and ink scattered and splattered all across the floor. He didn't remember much, only bits and pieces, small flashes of consciousness that were all too blasphemous for him to even begin to consider them truthful.  He tried to school his expression, but something about it must've given his distraught away because his god jumped at the chance to explain. 

"What happened last night? All your subordinates were suddenly struck with terrible headaches, everyone was restless." He sounded calm, easily speaking. And yet Hua Cheng could hear the almost imperceptible tremble to his voice, he could see the cinnabar in his highness's fingers as he quickly pet E-ming down, as if the repetitive motion was more to soothe himself than the blade. "You were too... you had quite the temper!" 

"Besides that?" He asked, voice more tight and harsh that he would've liked, demanding answers of him. He had no right.

Xie Lian blinked, looking down into his lap where E-ming was. "Besides what? ...Nothing else happened." 

He stared at him, hard. He didn't want to accuse his highness of lying, he didn't want to be mistrustful of him, but he needed to know, if anything he needed the reassurance that he hadn't broken any unspoken boundaries in his state of unwell. 

"Was there really nothing?" he asked, then without looking away he tried- "Then... how did I calm down?" 

Xie Lian cleared his throat, looking away.

"San Lang, please don't be mad at me." he pleaded, his cheeks dusting of a red color. "To tell you the truth, other than this..." he briefly raised the hand that was petting E-ming to scratch at his cheek, his shoulders tense. "I also- ahem, f-fought with you." 

He was speechless for a moment. 

They fought?

That couldn't be. 

He knew his god's strength and he knew his own, if they had fought, even without weapons and no spiritual energy at all, Qiandeng Temple would've taken a way greater hit than it did, the walls and pillars looked intact, even the curtains that hanged from the ceiling were still in place, the mess was concentrated only around the altar, and even if his highness had managed to pin him down, he highly doubted that he would've been able to keep him in a single place for apparently the whole night.  

"We... had a fight?" he asked again, perhaps he had heard wrong. 

Xie Lian met his gaze, face carefully neutral. "We did. Look, our fight made quite a mess of the hall!" he said, biting his lip.

"..." 

He hadn't noticed it before, but his highness' hair was in disrray, like he had only quickly and carelessly done his half up-do again, his robes were rumpled and his lips looked swollen, they had always been plump, a fact that delighted and tormented Hua Cheng in equal measure, but now-

The small fragments of memory his mind offered didn't seemed so far fetched.

But if Xie Lian was trying so hard to let him think otherwise he must have his reasons, maybe he didn't want him to feel guilty about it ... perhaps he found his actions too disgusting to even speak about them, much preferring to pretend they had never happen than to acknowledge them. Whatever the reasons he would respect them, and he would play along, if only to ease his highness' mind.

He let out a breath that could be interpreted as relief, he didn't feel it as he rested his head on his hand, but as he saw from the corner of his eye Xie Lian releasing a breath he must not have realized he was holding, his shoulder's easing back ... he knew it had been the right choice. 

He choose to redirect the conversation.

"It opened." He had meant to speak it louder, yet the entire situation still clung heavy in his heart.

Xie Lian remained ignorant to his inner struggles as he looked back at him, those perfect golden eyes looking confused. 

"What did?" 

Hua Cheng turned to look fully at him, choosing to disregard what had happened for the moment. 

"Mount Tounglu reopened."